In the time before time, when the stars were still being named and shadows had not yet learned to lie, there lived a sacred owl named Nokoma, meaning She Who Sees All.
Nokoma was not an ordinary owl. Her feathers shimmered with the colors of earth and fire, of sky and memory. It was said the Creator carved wisdom into every one of her feathers, and her eyes reflected not only the present but the past and the future as well.
She lived atop the Tree of Echoes, the tallest tree in the sacred forest, whose roots touched the bones of the earth and whose branches scratched the underbelly of the moon. From this perch, Nokoma watched over the world, keeping the balance between what was known and what was hidden.
Each night, she spread her brilliant wings and flew silently across the land. With her came visions—dreams sent to the elders, songs whispered into the ears of those who would listen. To the foolish, her call was a warning. But to the wise, it was a gift.
When the people grew arrogant and began to silence the old stories, Nokoma vanished. The night became restless. The stars dimmed. Dreams stopped speaking.
One day, a child named Tama, born under the sign of the half-moon, heard an ancient song while walking through the forest. Guided by instinct, she followed the melody to the base of the Tree of Echoes. There, beneath the roots, she found a single feather—painted with patterns of memory and truth.
Tama placed the feather upon her heart and looked up.
Nokoma descended.
Her wings created wind without sound. Her eyes pierced not just into Tama’s soul, but into the hearts of her ancestors. Nokoma spoke:
"When the world forgets, the children must remember."
From that day, Tama became a keeper of stories, and Nokoma, the Night Feather, returned to her nightly flight—watching, guiding, protecting.
And to this day, when the wind rustles the trees at midnight, the people listen closely.
