FACT: Gnomes can detect the slightest variations in even the most commonplace meal

                With a flick of his wrist, the curved blade made short work of the dandelion stalk. With his free hand Aubrey held the blossom upright. Quickly, he sheathed the blade and lowered the stalk to the ground. Immediately he began stripping the dandelion of the leaves which would be later used for teas and a variety of medicinal uses. His calloused hands had long since lost their sensitivity to the plant’s irritating outer skin. When he finished, he laid the prepared stalk beside all the others waiting for the runners.

                Aubrey stood up, arching his back and stretching the weary, day-sore muscles. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and looked out over the field filled with twenty to thirty fellow laborers. He watched them perform the near mechanical motions of the harvest. He saw the inexperienced routines of the young and the practiced patterns of the old. Looking deeper, he saw the boundless enthusiasm of youth. He smiled remembering the energy and escapades of his own childhood. He lingered in the mist of memory and saw the promise and potential in his young life. Looking too, he saw the cynical resignation of the older gnomes whose backs and bones were broken long ago by the rigors of life. He felt pity but he also could not shake the sympathy which grew from his own struggles.

FACT: Gnomes have twice as many taste buds as humans

                As the weeks became months, Aubrey found he gave little conscious thought to Adrianna but hovering always in the background was a tiny, feathered shadow that lingered like a phantom. He found some consolation in his work where he relished in the monotonous, repetitive tasks which seemed to infuriate many others. He also reconnected with Anselm after their spat, though he never broached the subject of Adrianna again. Anselm, for his part, was content to pretend that the entire situation never happened. He was a simple gnome whose mind usually went no deeper than the plants in front of him, the sun above him, and the dinner in his belly. Aubrey knew all this and let his friend forget the past. In fact, Aubrey took some comfort in his friends’ contentment. Try as he might though, he was unable to live off of the simple pleasures which occupied Anselm. Something deep down stirred within Aubrey. Something that went deeper than the mysterious and beautiful owl which had graced his life. His heart harbored a flickering spark; something with the potential to spring to life given the right conditions.

FACT: The darkest part of night is the waiting

                Time passed slowly for Aubrey. The image of Adrianna disappearing into the darkness refused to fade from his mind. He tried his best to go back to his daily routine, which in the past, had brought him so much comfort. He returned home at the same time every day. He prepared the same meals he had always eaten (usually with a few dandelion stalks on the side). He drank the same tea. He even went to bed at the same time after reading his favorite novels. Yet, in the darkness of his room, deep underground, sleep evaded him. Despite his warm comfy bed and his feather-stuffed pillow, he always felt the very un-gnomelike urge to climb out of hole and stare out at the darkened sky. More than once he found himself unconsciously climbing the long passageway to the surface. Each time he had to force himself back to bed and will his eyes shut. And more than once he awoke in the morning with fleeting dreams of a midnight sky and heard the flutter of wings amid the night chorus.

                Slowly the days turned into weeks; the weeks into months…

FACT: It is folly to fear the night

“Don’t say that. He was a jerk.”

“No he’s right, at least partly,” she said raising her head to face Aubrey. “Regardless of how we view ourselves, we owls have a responsibility to all the other races. You understand. You gnomes view us as gods. What if one day you found out that your god wasn’t special, wasn’t any better than you? It would tear apart your society. I don’t regret meeting you Aubrey, I truly don’t. But my reasons in doing it were selfish and indulgent.”

“You’re saying what he’d like you to say.”

“No. I have a responsibility to my own people. Just as you have a responsibility to your own people.”

“I have a responsibility to what? To lie and pretend like none of this ever happened?”

“It might be best.”

“I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that.”

She remained silent and instead turned to face the blackness of the night. Aubrey once again found his questions unanswered. After everything that had happened over the last month, how could he ever go back to normal? He couldn’t simply ignore all that had seen and heard--- and felt. The stories in his library would no longer suffice. There was something deeper burning in him now that had been absent all of his life. He could no more turn his back on that inkling--- whatever it was, than to tear off his own arm or leg. Now to see the impetus of that change abandoning the joyful defiance that had first drawn him out of his isolation was too much to bear. He could not stand to see the fire of independence put out in Adrianna, not for his own sake, but for hers.

“I can’t forget you. I can’t forget what you’ve shown me.”

“Goodbye, Aubrey.”

He remained in the clearing long after Adrianna had gone. He listened to the wind rushing through the oak trees. He watched the night animals on their nocturnal parades and heard their mournful songs. One by one, even they disappeared into their nests and hollows; the whip-poor-wills and foxes and the opossums. He stayed long after the moon had fled leaving him surrounded only by the crushing weight of darkness.

FACT: Owl colleges are some of the most prestigious in the animal kingdom.

He drifted in and out of conversation, dwelling instead upon his own thoughts of Adrianna and her interest in him of all gnomes. Ozimander’s heated words drew Aubrey back in.

“If you had shown half as much interest in your studies as you do your insignificant fancies you might have made something of yourself. Now you’ve gone and revealed yourself to one of the other races; to a commoner at that. Good grief, I do not envy your father. His disappointment must be palpable.”

Adrianna stood mutely taking in the elder owl’s rebuke. Her face was expressionless. Her eyes seemed fixed on some indeterminate object off in the distance.

At last Aubrey’s anger flared and broke free from its constraints. He stepped forward.

“Be quiet. Now listen, I don’t know why Adrianna revealed herself to me and to be honest, I don’t care. She’s become my friend. She is considerate and friendly, which is more than I can say for you, sir. I know a bit about you owls now. A bit more than the average gnome at least, and I know that you’re not omniscient. You only think you’re wiser than everyone else, but really you’re just like the rest of us mere mortals.”

“I don’t have time for your ramblings boy. You don’t know the first thing about which you speak.” He turned to leave. “As for you, child, I suggest that you abandon your immature fancies and start living up to the standard of your race. Leave these little ‘things’ alone to go about their business. Anything else will really just confuse them and make them unhappy. See, you’ve already ruined this one. Now, I am needed at the Grove. Goodbye. I pray that you will heed my advice.”

With a rush of feathers he disappeared into the night leaving Aubrey and Adrianna standing alone in a diffused circle of moonlight. Neither spoke. Adrianna was looking down at her feet.

“Thank you for standing up for me,” she said after a moment. Her voice was a hushed whisper and was barely audible against the constant fluttering of wind through the leaves. “You didn’t have to do that. It’s my own fault.”

FACT: Gnomes do not easily forget ... but authors do

“That’s a very intriguing question indeed,” a third, ominous voice boomed. From the shadows, barely illuminated by the moonlight stared a pair of enormous eyes supported by a shadowy silhouette. Almost comically large, they would have seemed buffoonish if it were not for the malice they conveyed.

With two labored steps the owner of this imposing visage stepped out of the darkness ---an owl of gargantuan size. His hulking mass made Adrianna appear petite by comparison. Two tufts of feathers jutted out of the owl’s head like horns.

“Hello Ozimander,” Adrianna said defiantly.

“Hello indeed. What are you doing with this thing?” the great bird asked, brushing aside her greeting. He waddled closer to Aubrey and stared at him as a scientist might observe a dissected frog. “I’ve never known you to play with our food.” His voice trailed off into a low growl.

“He’s not food. His name is Aubrey and he is a friend.” She stepped forward and stood between Ozimander and Aubrey. “What brings you down from the highlands anyway? I’ve never seen you this far south.”

“My endeavors take me many places, young one. In fact, I am on my way to the Grove this very night. A meeting has been called. I have been summoned of course. You might have known as much if you hadn’t been out cavorting with Lessers.” A fire began to rise in Aubrey but he forced it back. Despite the situation he found that he did not fear this creature. For all his menace, Aubrey saw only the absurdity of his appearance. His eyes were of course prominent but so too was his vast bulk and the difficulty with which he walked. His plumage was a mottled brown and several patches were permanently ruffled as if disturbed by some imperceptible breeze. Aubrey’s attention was drawn to the owl’s beak as he spoke to Adrianna. It was weathered and scratched in several places--- and dirty. Near the corner was a piece of stray hair from some unfortunate victim. The image of this disgusting old bird choking down some unsuspecting mouse proved to be revolting and, strangely, absurd. Aubrey forced himself back into their conversation.

At last the sun dropped below the horizon. It shimmered for a moment like a great orange sea and then it was gone. For a time the glow lingered like a petulant gnomeling refusing to go to bed. It cast strange, otherworldly shadows on the landscape. Hillsides became marauding trolls. Lakes, still glittering in the dusky twilight became sets of ravenous eyes staring unblinkingly from the darkness.

Slowly they began to descend. The air, which had grown noticeably cooler, warmed a little. Carried by Adrianna’s powerful wings they spun in wide circles pulling ever closer to the familiarity of earth. The landscape regained its features. The great forest emerged from obscurity. Mill Pond lay bathed in moonlight. Several deer, grazing contentedly in the corn field, gave a passing glance at them as they landed nearby before returning to their feeding.

She released him within a few inches of the ground so that by starting with his feet already running, he was able to land with a bit of his dignity intact rather than plop to the ground like a dead shrew. She fluttered into place a yard or so away.

“Why can’t we keep going?” he asked with the giddy enthusiasm of a young gnome. “You can see in the dark can’t you?”

“I can, but it’s probably best if we weren’t gallivanting around where we might be seen.”

“We were gallivanting?”

“You know what I mean,” she chided.

“So you’re ashamed of me?” Aubrey asked.

“No. Not exactly.”

“So, I’m not the only one risking his reputation here?” he said with a wink.

“Yes,” she sighed. “Aubrey, there are things you’re going to learn about my kind. I said before that we’re not the idols you make us out to be and that is very true. We’re prideful and arrogant. The notion that we’re all wise and knowing has gotten it into our heads that we’re better than the other species. Some of us are grounded, but most owls aren’t. They wouldn’t look kindly on another owl spending time with a ‘lesser’ species.”

A pause.

“So why are you spending time with me?” Aubrey inquired.