The Assassin's Avian Tale

Chapter 3

A few days had passed since Luna awoke as a barn owl, a transformation she could barely reconcile with her human mind. Yet, despite her struggles, she had quickly adapted to her new form, learning to hunt and survive with the keen instincts of a predator. Perched on a tree branch now, she gazed at the remains of a freshly caught rabbit—a sparse collection of bones and fur, deliberately left behind.

“Ugh! I still can’t get used to eating like this,” she sighed, feeling a wave of nausea. The thought of her first meal as an owl—a crude attempt that ended with her retching up a pellet—still haunted her. Each meal was a brutal reminder of her unfamiliar reality, one she wanted nothing more than to escape.

Luna’s eyes scanned the sky above, the sun’s rays filtering through the dense canopy. It was still noon, and the desire to break free from her life as a wild creature burned more fiercely than ever.

"I didn’t sign up for this. Who wants to live scavenging, battling to survive, and eating raw meat every day? Well not me," she sighed.

She narrowed her eyes, determination hardening her resolve.

"I need to get back to that catacomb,” she murmured, a slight shiver running through her as she recalled her final moments in Rome before waking up here.

“There’s got to be a reason I ended up in this forest as an owl.”

The desire to reclaim her life drove her to plan, knowing that flying back to Rome from this wilderness would be no easy feat. She would travel only at night and rest by day, to conserve energy and avoid potential predators. With the plan set, she leapt from her perch, her wings stretching wide as she took flight, gliding through the afternoon sky with a sense of purpose that felt almost like her old self again.

The thrill of flight was exhilarating; she could see everything from above, her sharp vision piercing through the shadows. “This part isn’t so bad,” she whispered, feeling a fleeting sense of freedom as she scanned the forest floor. Despite her troubles, there was a strange, eerie beauty in the ability to see in near darkness.

As she soared onward, Luna studied the terrain, searching for anything that resembled civilization—clearings, fields, a road that could guide her. Hours passed, and by dawn, fatigue finally tugged at her wings, forcing her to find a secluded spot high in the branches to rest.

The next few days fell into a rhythm of night travel, hunting prey in the early hours, and sleeping during the day. Though she moved with the silent precision of an owl, she never let her guard down, her senses sharp as she scoured her surroundings for threats.

On the fourth night, with hunger momentarily satisfied, Luna’s flight brought her over a wide river. A gleam of water sparkled below, and her beak tingled at the thought of a drink.

"Perfect—now to clean myself up too," she thought, cringing as she noticed the red-brown stains matted into her feathers from her last meal.

She swooped down, landing on the riverbank before plunging her beak into the flowing water. The cool sensation was refreshing, washing away the grit of her recent kills. Luna spent some time meticulously cleaning her feathers, working until her pure white plumage gleamed again under the moonlight, giving her an ethereal glow.

At least I don’t have to smell like a butcher’s shop.

Though blood and gore were part of her past as an assassin, she had always maintained a level of fastidiousness. Even now, despite everything, she would not tolerate the lingering scent of blood on her feathers. Once her grooming was complete, she flew to a high branch to dry, the cool night breeze easing her into a light doze.