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Description
Bravewing: a Silverwing Fanfiction
By Kristen Silver
Chapter 3 The Echo Chamber
Only yesterday Shade and I had traveled to Tree Havens very peak, now Frieda was leading us down to the very depths. I marveled at the mere size of the tree as we spiraled deeper and deeper into the trunk. Down, down, down until we reached the mossy bottom. I was aware of how much cooler it was, and the strong cent of wood and soil. There was a small archway of gnarled wood, which Frieda was scuttling towards on all fours.
“Here we are.” Frieda announced up ahead.
The floor of the tunnel fell away, and I was more than happy to spread my wings open and swoop down into a large cave. But I tensed and faltered in the air. I heard voices. So many voices. They were barely above a whisper, but loud enough I could hear them. I could tell Shade heard it too, he faltered in mid air and his ears were twitching wildly like mine. We shared a nervous glance.
“Who’s down there?” he asked the elder.
“Nobody. I’ll show you.”
“But I hear voices.” I protested.
“You’ll see,” Frieda grinned, “This way.”
Frieda led us deeper still, down to the bottom of the cave, then roosted on a narrow ledge. In a small niche in the hard stone, I saw a panel of mud and mulched up leaves. And the voices were coming from right behind it.
“Quickly.” Frieda instructed, and pushed though the soft center of the panel with her nose.
We found ourselves in a surprisingly small, round room. All around me, the voices crept upon us, like the very air its self.
“Fold your wings tight,” Frieda carefully closed the panel, “And stay still.”
Shade and I barely breathed. Still, the voices sounded far away, but I could hear them better as they swirled about.
“…in the winter of that year…”
“…owls took revenge…”
“…15 newborns died…”
“…rebellion was crushed after the battle…”
It was then that I realized the voices were mere echoes, bouncing of the walls.
“See how smooth the walls are?” Frieda whispered, “It took generations to hollow them out, polish them. But it had to be smooth or else the echoes would never bounce back and be lost to us.”
“What’s it for?” Shade asked.
“This is the history of the Silverwing colony,” explained Frieda, “Every year, one of the elders sings the years story to the walls, and there they stay.”
“How do you listen to one at a time?” Shade whispered.
“It takes a certain talent,” Frieda continued, “Not everyone can do it, but I have a feeling about you two…here, let me help.” We watch as she swiveled her ears around, “Yes, here it is, the oldest story of our colony…catch it now…concentrate…”
Shade and I moved to where Frieda was, a voice so clear, so consuming, we jerked our heads back in shock.
“It’s an odd feeling, isn’t it? It’s all right, try again.”
We tensed as the sound flowed though us, but this time, held on.
“Long ago,” a female voice sang, “Thousands and thousands of years ago, the world was a dark and empty place. There was nothing except the Great Creator. He spoke into the darkness and created the light. And He separated the light from the darkness. He called the light Day, and the darkness He called Night.”
The words faded away, and without warning my mind was filled with pictures. At the same time, Shade and I gasped and pressed our ears tight.
“What happened?” I asked Frieda.
“Echo pictures,” the elder told us patiently, “With practice its possible to sing pictures into bats’ heads.”
I closed my eyes as Shade did the same. I let the picture fill my head.
The beginning of the world, I was watching it. I couldn’t see the Great Creator, but I could hear Him, calling the world into existence. His voice was nothing like I had ever heard, filled with power, patience, love, mercy and might. It took him only six days to create everything. A perfect world. But before the seventh day, I saw him form something out of dust. It was an odd sight, really. But then the dust began to transform, and in no time at all, a man was formed. It was amazing, I’ve never seen a human in my life, I’ve only heard stories about them. Next the pictures changed, I was watching two humans watching a tree. One of them was the man I saw earlier and the other was a female. It wasn’t until I looked closer did I realize they weren’t staring at the tree, but a creature next to the tree. I had no idea what it was, but it seemed to be talking to the humans. The humans began to eat a fruit from the tree, then the pictures changed again.
I saw the world again, but it had changed. It wasn’t as beautiful as it was before.
The female bat voice that spoke earlier came back, “After humans let sin into the world, nothing was the same again. Many arguments and disputes rose among the animal kingdom. Eventually, the Battle of the birds and the beasts began. For years the war went on, but we bats refused to take sides. So when war finally ended, a treaty was forged. The beasts blamed their defeat on us, and the birds labeled us as cowards. As punishment, the birds and the beasts banished us to the darkness of the night. For thousands of years we flew in the night, never to glimpse the sun again. But the Great Creator was angry his creation turned on one another. And so He gave us a gift. The Promise.”
There was a brief silence, and then:
“Long ago, thousands and thousands of years ago, the world was a dark and empty place…”
The message had come to a full circle, and I shifted my head out of the echo stream as Shade did the same.
I turned to Frieda, my mind a tangle of questions. Shade spoke up first.
“We didn’t do anything!” his eyes wide in disbelief, “That’s how we got stuck with the law? That is so unfair.”
“What’s the Promise?” I asked Frieda. Every newborn had been told about the Great Creator, who made everything.
“He promised that there will come a time, when bats can fly in broad daylight without worrying about the claws of the owls or the jaws of the beast.”
“When will that happen?”
“No one knows,” Frieda sighed, “Maybe not even in my lifetime.” She paused, “But I think it will be sooner than that.”
“How come?” Shade asked.
“Because of this,” Frieda pulled back her wings and her band shimmered silver. Shade and I sucked in our breaths.
“How did you get it?” I softly asked.
“The humans gave it to me when I was young. Not much older than you really. There were a couple of us in the forest one night, when they took hold of us. They fastened the bands on us then let us go. I think it’s a sign. A sign of the promise to come.”
“May I?” I humbly asked.
“Yes, of course,” Frieda replied extending her forearm.
I placed a claw on the delicate tiny makings that covered the band.
“Did the humans give bands to anyone else?” Shade asked.
“Not for a long time,” Frieda answered thoughtfully, “But two winters ago, they came back, and banded some males.”
“My father?” Shade barely asked above a whisper.
“Ariel told you, did she?”
“No,” he looked down, “She doesn’t talk about him much.”
“I know that she never agreed with his views. And she wants to protect you Shade. She might not have told the whole truth, but try not to be angry with her.”
There was a slight pause before I asked something that’s been on my mind.
“Why did you show us all this?”
Frieda warmly smiled at us, “You two are not like the others. You both have a kind of brightness I don’t want smothered. Shade, you are curious. You want to know things. Pandora, you have a good heart. You’re loyal to your friends and family. The both of you are good listeners too. You’ll hear far more than anyone else can.”
I flushed at the compliment. There was so many more things I wanted to asked her, but there was a fluttering of wings outside the echo chamber and I heard Mercury’s voice.
“Frieda,” the messenger urgently called out, “The owls are coming. And they have fire.”

Description
Bravewing: a Silverwing Fanfiction
By Kristen Silver
Chapter 3 The Echo Chamber
Only yesterday Shade and I had traveled to Tree Havens very peak, now Frieda was leading us down to the very depths. I marveled at the mere size of the tree as we spiraled deeper and deeper into the trunk. Down, down, down until we reached the mossy bottom. I was aware of how much cooler it was, and the strong cent of wood and soil. There was a small archway of gnarled wood, which Frieda was scuttling towards on all fours.
“Here we are.” Frieda announced up ahead.
The floor of the tunnel fell away, and I was more than happy to spread my wings open and swoop down into a large cave. But I tensed and faltered in the air. I heard voices. So many voices. They were barely above a whisper, but loud enough I could hear them. I could tell Shade heard it too, he faltered in mid air and his ears were twitching wildly like mine. We shared a nervous glance.
“Who’s down there?” he asked the elder.
“Nobody. I’ll show you.”
“But I hear voices.” I protested.
“You’ll see,” Frieda grinned, “This way.”
Frieda led us deeper still, down to the bottom of the cave, then roosted on a narrow ledge. In a small niche in the hard stone, I saw a panel of mud and mulched up leaves. And the voices were coming from right behind it.
“Quickly.” Frieda instructed, and pushed though the soft center of the panel with her nose.
We found ourselves in a surprisingly small, round room. All around me, the voices crept upon us, like the very air its self.
“Fold your wings tight,” Frieda carefully closed the panel, “And stay still.”
Shade and I barely breathed. Still, the voices sounded far away, but I could hear them better as they swirled about.
“…in the winter of that year…”
“…owls took revenge…”
“…15 newborns died…”
“…rebellion was crushed after the battle…”
It was then that I realized the voices were mere echoes, bouncing of the walls.
“See how smooth the walls are?” Frieda whispered, “It took generations to hollow them out, polish them. But it had to be smooth or else the echoes would never bounce back and be lost to us.”
“What’s it for?” Shade asked.
“This is the history of the Silverwing colony,” explained Frieda, “Every year, one of the elders sings the years story to the walls, and there they stay.”
“How do you listen to one at a time?” Shade whispered.
“It takes a certain talent,” Frieda continued, “Not everyone can do it, but I have a feeling about you two…here, let me help.” We watch as she swiveled her ears around, “Yes, here it is, the oldest story of our colony…catch it now…concentrate…”
Shade and I moved to where Frieda was, a voice so clear, so consuming, we jerked our heads back in shock.
“It’s an odd feeling, isn’t it? It’s all right, try again.”
We tensed as the sound flowed though us, but this time, held on.
“Long ago,” a female voice sang, “Thousands and thousands of years ago, the world was a dark and empty place. There was nothing except the Great Creator. He spoke into the darkness and created the light. And He separated the light from the darkness. He called the light Day, and the darkness He called Night.”
The words faded away, and without warning my mind was filled with pictures. At the same time, Shade and I gasped and pressed our ears tight.
“What happened?” I asked Frieda.
“Echo pictures,” the elder told us patiently, “With practice its possible to sing pictures into bats’ heads.”
I closed my eyes as Shade did the same. I let the picture fill my head.
The beginning of the world, I was watching it. I couldn’t see the Great Creator, but I could hear Him, calling the world into existence. His voice was nothing like I had ever heard, filled with power, patience, love, mercy and might. It took him only six days to create everything. A perfect world. But before the seventh day, I saw him form something out of dust. It was an odd sight, really. But then the dust began to transform, and in no time at all, a man was formed. It was amazing, I’ve never seen a human in my life, I’ve only heard stories about them. Next the pictures changed, I was watching two humans watching a tree. One of them was the man I saw earlier and the other was a female. It wasn’t until I looked closer did I realize they weren’t staring at the tree, but a creature next to the tree. I had no idea what it was, but it seemed to be talking to the humans. The humans began to eat a fruit from the tree, then the pictures changed again.
I saw the world again, but it had changed. It wasn’t as beautiful as it was before.
The female bat voice that spoke earlier came back, “After humans let sin into the world, nothing was the same again. Many arguments and disputes rose among the animal kingdom. Eventually, the Battle of the birds and the beasts began. For years the war went on, but we bats refused to take sides. So when war finally ended, a treaty was forged. The beasts blamed their defeat on us, and the birds labeled us as cowards. As punishment, the birds and the beasts banished us to the darkness of the night. For thousands of years we flew in the night, never to glimpse the sun again. But the Great Creator was angry his creation turned on one another. And so He gave us a gift. The Promise.”
There was a brief silence, and then:
“Long ago, thousands and thousands of years ago, the world was a dark and empty place…”
The message had come to a full circle, and I shifted my head out of the echo stream as Shade did the same.
I turned to Frieda, my mind a tangle of questions. Shade spoke up first.
“We didn’t do anything!” his eyes wide in disbelief, “That’s how we got stuck with the law? That is so unfair.”
“What’s the Promise?” I asked Frieda. Every newborn had been told about the Great Creator, who made everything.
“He promised that there will come a time, when bats can fly in broad daylight without worrying about the claws of the owls or the jaws of the beast.”
“When will that happen?”
“No one knows,” Frieda sighed, “Maybe not even in my lifetime.” She paused, “But I think it will be sooner than that.”
“How come?” Shade asked.
“Because of this,” Frieda pulled back her wings and her band shimmered silver. Shade and I sucked in our breaths.
“How did you get it?” I softly asked.
“The humans gave it to me when I was young. Not much older than you really. There were a couple of us in the forest one night, when they took hold of us. They fastened the bands on us then let us go. I think it’s a sign. A sign of the promise to come.”
“May I?” I humbly asked.
“Yes, of course,” Frieda replied extending her forearm.
I placed a claw on the delicate tiny makings that covered the band.
“Did the humans give bands to anyone else?” Shade asked.
“Not for a long time,” Frieda answered thoughtfully, “But two winters ago, they came back, and banded some males.”
“My father?” Shade barely asked above a whisper.
“Ariel told you, did she?”
“No,” he looked down, “She doesn’t talk about him much.”
“I know that she never agreed with his views. And she wants to protect you Shade. She might not have told the whole truth, but try not to be angry with her.”
There was a slight pause before I asked something that’s been on my mind.
“Why did you show us all this?”
Frieda warmly smiled at us, “You two are not like the others. You both have a kind of brightness I don’t want smothered. Shade, you are curious. You want to know things. Pandora, you have a good heart. You’re loyal to your friends and family. The both of you are good listeners too. You’ll hear far more than anyone else can.”
I flushed at the compliment. There was so many more things I wanted to asked her, but there was a fluttering of wings outside the echo chamber and I heard Mercury’s voice.
“Frieda,” the messenger urgently called out, “The owls are coming. And they have fire.”