A flight of noccish soldiers flew silently above the dark canopy of trees below, their wings making each movement a study in stealth air formations. The crisp night air lifted their wings like a helpful friend, and their swooping and gliding paths were lit by the starry blanket above.

    The noc owls were the last defense between the kobalin army and the many villages and forest homes of the fairy folk of Noominia. These airborne soldiers wore light armour and wing weapons to help them defend the Noominian forests from the kobalins at night. Like owls, they hunted at night, their vision adapting well to the low light. These warriors were natural defenders of the deep forests through the long moon season of Noominia, when the sun only shines for a short time before setting again.

    Ruby was the commander of this flight, and as she led the formation, she scanned the night forest. She signalled the fliers to land in the tallest tree she could see for miles. Tonight the forest had been quiet. They had not seen a single kobalin, not a blade of grass out of place. The calmness bothered Ruby—it had been weeks since they had a night without incident. Kobalins were not great soldiers, but relied on their vast numbers to overwhelm their enemies. Ruby knew that when things were too quiet, something was amiss.

    The job of scanning the forest at night became grueling as the days grew shorter in Noominia. With only a few hours of rest, the noc owls would awaken and head out on their daily tour. The light of the stars in the sky was plenty for their sensitive eyes, and they would fly a great distance each night, looking for a fight. When successful, they would drive the kobalins back toward the north, into the fog of the mountains where they came from. When unsuccessful, the skirmishes would end in injuries, and sometimes a loss of life. Ruby’s flight hadn’t lost any soldiers in a long time, and she was determined to keep it that way.

    In fact, a new recruit had joined her flight recently. What Ruby did not know was this noc was no owl—he was a human. He was Sadie’s brother, George.

    As a flier and a warrior he was inexperienced, yet his determination was admirable. And so Ruby assigned Otis—one of the most skilled and experienced nocs in the flight—to mentor George. Ruby hoped that George would quickly improve.

    A high branch reached up from the forest below. Ruby landed gracefully, signalling the others to gather to discuss their strategy for the evening.

    “We’re having a bit of a dry spell tonight, nocs,” Ruby said.

    “You could say that again!” said Otis. “I was hoping to try out my new wing blade.” He opened one wing showing off the razor sharp strip of metal that was strapped to the top of his wing. The blade tip arched gracefully along his wing feathers and looked like a natural part of his wing.

    George flew in beside Otis, panting. His landing was awkward and he nearly fell off the branch.

    Otis laughed, “Looks like this one could use some more basic flight training!”

    He laughed again, slapping George on the back and nearly knocking him off the limb.

    “Whoah—wah!” George exclaimed as he caught his balance.

The other nocs joined in with hoots of laughter.

    “And a little landing practice, too!” Ibis called from the next branch. “Hey George, flying’s the easy part—and crashing is even easier!”

    More tittering came from the ranks of the flight.

    “Where I come from we don’t fly. Not like this,” George said, panting from exhaution.

    “A noc that doesn’t fly is like a mermaid that doesn’t swim,” Otis said.

    “Shh,” instructed Ruby with a raised wing. “Listen. . . the forest is quiet.”

    “A little too quiet,” said Otis, turning his head and focussing his nightvision out into the distance.

    George forced his breathing to slow, and held his breath when he could. He wiped his brow and looked up. The stars were still quite visible, and the crowns of the trees, like lumpy pillows, were bathed in the starlight.

    “Exactly,” said Ruby. “Too quiet. Dawn is coming in an hour or so. There should be some morning activity already. Something’s not right.”

    “Should we head back to rest in the parliament?” George asked.

    “Little noc, our job is to fly toward the danger, not away,” said Pollo, a handsome noc with blue and white feathers. “We’re one of the last defenses standing between the kobalins and the one to come, the Evening Star.”

    George had heard that phrase—‘the one to come, the Evening Star’—repeated several times since he found himself in this strange world, half-transformed into an owl and unable to remove his mask. He could tell this ‘evening star’ was really important to the noc owls by how serious they got whenever it was mentioned.

    “But where is the danger hiding . . . ?” Ruby asked herself.

“The forest is thick,” said Otis, thinking aloud, “and stretches south and west from here. And we just patrolled the eastern border with no luck.”

    “Not even a skirmish!” called a noc from the back of the ranks.

“Yes, not a-one,” continued Otis. “The bogs are north, and the kobalins won’t march through there. They prefer to come down through the pass and into the forest a half-hour’s flight west of here.”

Ruby was quiet for a moment. She closed her eyes and slowly turned her head, looking north.

    “We must go into Mudren Bogs,” said Ruby.

    “Mudren Bogs? I don’t like the sound of that,” said George.

    “Don’t worry, George. You can fly now, remember?” said Otis.

    “This has been a strange day,” said Ruby to the attentive soldiers, “and flying north into the swamplands is the most unlikely decision. I have a feeling in my feathers we’ll meet the fight we’re looking for, but we must go north.”

    “We go north!” Otis echoed Ruby’s command to the flight without question or hesitation. To George he added, “At least in the bogs we won’t run into any hill giants.”

    George didn’t know what a hill giant was, but he was sure he didn’t want to meet one.

    The silent fliers launched off the branches and caught the air in their wings before swooping up and aiming high above the trees.

    Liisa noc, another new recruit, hung back on her branch to watch George. She smirked at his preflight ritual of talking to himself, convincing himself to fly, reminding himself that he has wings and he won’t fall to his death if he jumps off the branch.

    “You got this George,” Liisa called over with a smile.

    George looked over to her and gave a shy smile as he waved. Liisa took off in a graceful arc of soft feathers and sharp steel before jetting off toward the squadron.

    After checking that he still had wings, George launched himself from the branch. He flapped furiously to try to maintain his place in the formation, but as usual, he lagged behind at the back. Sometimes, when George flew several minutes behind the squadron, Otis would fly back to check on him—to give him a nudge, an encouraging word, or chide him if he thought it would get George to move faster.

    The lush trees of the Noominian forest soon became sparse, and gave way to the swamplands which had fewer trees and grew stranger plants. Long, sharp thorns adorned giant bushes, and George could tell that they would not be a good place to land.

    The landscape really started to give George the creeps. The whole place was nightmarish, unlike the beautiful green forests, and the mist rolling across the ground beneath him made it harder for him to gauge his bearings. It took all his willpower to not panic, but he took courage from Ruby and Otis, and he knew they truly wanted to help him. The noc owls worked as a team, they were ‘many wings, one goal,’ as George was taught, and they had each other's back. They teased him like a little brother, but the flight had accepted him. Back home he was used to Sadie’s comments, and her words could be cruel—not the friendly teasing he got from Otis and the other nocs.

    George worried about Sadie and Vesper, and remembered the masquerade—how he watched in slow motion, unable to speak, as Vesper went into the tunnel, followed by Sadie. And when they didn’t return, George knew he had to follow them to make sure they were okay. He didn’t understand how he got to Noominia, nor how he looked the way he did, but he felt lucky that he had appeared just outside the noc owl’s parliament where he was quickly found by Ibis. George hoped that the nocs would help him find his sister and friend, and maybe help him find his way home, too.

    If he was to survive this world, he knew that flying lessons would be crucial, so he held his silence until the right moment presented itself.