Flight School: Predator

Close Distance

"You're not trying, Tori," the frightening mirror that he was forced to stand before on his very first day stared blankly at his heart. "You have to focus."

"I am, sir." The moon turned to Faustes with a glow that wavered not. "I am trying." But since when could effort be seen by the naked eye—no. The determination of a heart could not be measured by any physical form or numerical units like mass, it was unheard of. Unseen.

The professor angled his student in a way that he faced both the mirror and him. "Then maybe you're not trying hard enough." Io found in him a raw indignance that battled against the words he heard. Who was anyone to define the sufficiency of his attempt; the extent of his efforts? Was it not his own, and his only?

Io swallowed his mind and returned to the reflection of himself. For all he knew, he could see them.

On his back, a pair of luminous white wings spread wide—spanning, incredibly, beyond what the mirror itself could contain and radiating a glow so natural, so ethereal that it tickled his hair as though by some strange occurrence a breeze had passed despite closed doors; leaving star-like dust upon his shoulders, so small. How they bore the burden of wings so large was a mystery indeed but to Io, they were light. There was no weight at all.

From what he could see, or at least perceive of his reflection and his teacher's response—the disjunction was clear. Not everyone could see Luna, or his wings. Even if they were somehow able to, like Luka for instance, Io wondered if his friend saw Luna exactly as he did.

"Sir, but..."

Faustes waited, but Io knew not how to break this to him: that it wasn't as though his wings or his Avian were absent and he was unable to conjure them, but rather a bizarre case whereby they were invisible. Unseen to...to certain eyes. How this had come to be, the boy was just as clueless as anyone else was.

"Will you believe me if I said they were there?"

The deputy headmaster frowned. "What was?"

"My wings."

Faustes looked at his student as though he had said something incredulous, and turned his gaze back towards the mirror he had already been looking at, but could not see; could not see the light that was inside.

To Io, his wings were reflected in the mirror only. Yes, it was simply a reflection—but surely, just like everyone else had on the first day, they could see the reflection he saw as his own? He looked to Faustes and searched in his dark eyes for some form of confirmation, only to be disappointed when he found there was none. "Sir I think other people can't see it. They just can't."

"Yes Tori, but this isn't about whether or not others can or cannot see what you can see, but whether or not you can make them see it." Faustes angled the mirror once more to fit his student only. "And I can't see a damn thing, whether or not it's your Avian or those wings. Look, it's excusable even if you're unable to shift. First years can't on normal basis, and you've only spent five months here so it's not as if I'm expecting you to physically manifest them, but if you can't even form them in your reflection, the council is probably going to fu—mess," he stopped himself. "Mess you up."

Io bit his lip in thought and considered telling the hawk that he could, in fact, form them in his reflection. Just why was it, then, that others could not see?

"Is there really no other way?" He stepped back, away from the mirror that was already so large. It made him feel a little empty inside, being the only one within its span and Faustes standing so far away. Luna observed quietly.