[X]
The boy did as he was told—buckling up his seatbelt and leaning back against the headboard.
He didn't know the comfort of the First Class seats, and perhaps that might be a blessing in disguise.
For hence, he wouldn't compare. He didn't know what it felt like to be respected, or feared. And hence—he preferred it down here.
At the very bottom of the food chain.
A sharp jerk woke Io out of his daydream and his eyes darted around.
Most of the preys around him seemed to be used to this—however, he did spot a couple of freshmen looking just as frightened as himself.
He was glad he wasn't alone.
He wondered whether Pipa was scared.
The very thought made him stronger, for he felt a connection between them.
Something different from human bonds and relations.
Perhaps stronger.
Perhaps weaker.
He spoke to his Avian, Lyra—and was comforted by her words.
With that, Iolani Tori took a deep breath, feeling the faint vibration of the plane under his fingertips as it gradually sped up.
The unnoticeable whirring sound began to get louder and louder, the plane shook violently, and then he felt a strange lift towards the air—as if it was magic.
Io knew they were flying,
Rising,
Ascending into nothing.
His tiny heart raced with fear. Fear and excitement.
He was in the air.
He was flying.
He was—
There was a nauseous lurch in the poor boy's gut.
His ears felt strange—as if they had been blocked out.
Io reminded himself of his fear of heights, and all of a sudden—his excitement turned into clean fear.
He forced his thoughts aside, gulping.
Realizing that his swallow cleared his ears, Io tried to concentrate on this act in order to forget (momentarily) about his phobia.
An image of extremely small houses and ant-sized people re-surfaced, and Io's hand came up to his mouth in reflex.
He forced the sour lump back into his throat, disgusted.
Water. Water.
The boy was in a desperate need for fresh air and water.
All of a sudden, he missed Pipa's smile terribly.
His hands gripped onto the arm rests on each respective side, praying that the ascend would end anytime soon.
As the belts against his stomach strapped him onto dear life,
As his mind propelled him into the mere opposite of it,
The boy could only fear desperately.
Fear.
Fear—
And listen to Lyra's words of concern.
_________________________
What's the matter dear? He heard his Avian ask.
I think I'm going to be sick.
N-Nonsense. You look perfectly fine. Besides, once we rise above the clouds, the ship—I mean, plane...the plane will...stabilize.
Io found himself thinking fairly anxiously at this point. Lyra's words had better be the truth or else he was quite sure that his stomach would be emptied at some point in the air but as soon as the very thought left his mind, the odd angle of the plane began to resume its previous appearance of it having been on the ground.
The plane had stopped rising.
Io glanced past the strange boy from before and out of the window.
Cruising among the clouds.
Had someone told Iolani Tori a month ago that he would be on a plane to some peculiar-looking place in a couple of weeks' time, he wouldn't have believed them; let alone soaring above the clouds, no. It was beyond his realm of fantasies and certainly did not fit in his world of fears.
At present however, his inability to see anything besides white fluffy material neutralized the sour lump at the back of his throat. The creature within his cage calmed itself.
Just then, the fellow prey beside him unbuckled his seat belt, even though the sign stated that we were to remain seated.
"Where are you going?" Io asked immediately, afraid for his safety to which the boy responded with a raised brow.
"Outside. Duh."
He blinked in confusion.
"Out...side? We're in the air," he felt silly stating the obvious.
"Are you coming?" His companion evaded the fact, as if it wasn't a problem.
The boy was having a hard time understanding.
"I...um, okay...?" Glancing around, he was surprised to see that several passengers were also making their way towards the back of the plane. Will Pipa be there? Io wondered if she had the fortune of making any friends so far.
Well of course she has. She's really friendly, said Lyra at the back of his mind.
As he approached the aft of the plane, Io noticed an odd winding stairwell leading upstairs. He hadn't noticed the presence of a second level before and was beginning to doubt his observational skills.
The boy turned around, beckoning Io to follow quickly and he obliged, padding along, trying to match his pace with the former.
"Hold on to the handles," he advised shortly, and Io nodded blindly—gripping on to the wooden railings as tightly as he could. The first thing he noticed was the scent in the air. The air that touched his skin was cool, fresh and...foreign. One that weaved tales of excitement and anticipation; of spring, blossoms—a new beginning.
It was not until Io realized that there was not supposed to be a breeze. In fact, he was certain that the interior of an aircraft should not be exposed in any manner to the increasing pressure at high altitudes.
Was there supposed to be a breeze?
As they arrived at what Io assumed was the second floor of the airplane, the difficulty to breathe hit him hard and he understood what it really felt like to be freezing.
It was disconcerting—and as absurd as it sounded, he was no longer on a plane (or as far as he knew).
He was on a deck. A ship's deck. Cruising in the air, almost like a tale; a dream.
"Io!"
Balancing himself as he turned around, Io heard the sound of Pipa's flats on the wooden planks of the deck. There was an immense relief that filled him as he called out to her, waving for her to come over. She lit up with a smile, rushing to their side.
"Wow. This...this looks amazing. I've never—oh," Pipa's excitement stopped short as her eyes widened curiously at the dark-haired boy beside Io. "This is...?"
The sparrow blinked.
"Oh, this is, um..." Turning to the fellow prey beside him with a rather sheepish smile, Io referred Pipa's question awkwardly, "yes—um, you...you are...?"
He appeared ill-tempered, clicking his tongue and turning the other way after glaring daggers at the pair.
"Nash."
Pipa smiled brightly, presenting her hand. "Hello Nash! My name's Pipa. Are you a freshman too?"
Nash didn't take her hand, merely looking at it in disdain before clicking his tongue once more.
"Hi. And no, I'm not fresh out of the oven—ready to be eaten like you guys," He laughed bitterly, scanning the two of them in a languid manner.
The sparrow and canary exchanged uneasy glances. Surely, the boy was joking.
Nash let out a long sigh that caught their attention, holding out his right hand—fingers curled in slightly, apart from his index finger.
We heard her first; a resounding chirp with a common tune, a tune that was often heard back in Io's village. A black, winged creature's silhouette slipped past their sight, circled above for a couple of seconds—and landed on Nash's outstretched finger. It was a typical mynah. Yellow beak, dark feathers.
It cocked its head to the side, gazing with blank eyes.
"O-oh! A mynah. How beautiful!" Pipa exclaimed nervously, smiling to hide her unease as Nash raised a brow. Io nodded in blind agreement—afraid to say anything.
Seconds ticked away, and the raven-haired boy finally responded. "Hmph..." He considered, "thanks."
Pipa's smile widened at his reply.
There you are.
Lyra's voice echoed like magical bells, and Io found himself searching the skies. The feather-light weight on his shoulder signed her arrival, and so did a couple of chirps that caught his attention.
He caressed the top of her head with his finger, feeling an odd sense of relief course through this veins. "What are you doing here, Lyra?"
Nash seemed to have overheard my question, and he snorted. "Well, most of us come up here to meet our Avians," he shrugged sarcastically, "Not sure why you are here then."
"O-oh. I...I didn't know that."
Peculiar boy, Lyra commented lightly. Peculiar Avian. She seems to be glaring at me, that mynah.
A high-pitched chirp made Io jump, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Sylvey—your feather's are all fluffed! Bother...just when I groomed you this morning too," Pipa sighed, shaking her head as she kissed the sunshine-yellow bird singing happily on her finger.
She turned to her friend, eyes alight.
"This is Sylvester, but I call him Sylvey. Sylvey, this is Io—and his Avian, Lyra."
The boy waved tentatively while his Avian chirped in acknowledgement.
Adorable girl, Lyra mused. What perfect feathers she has on top of her head. Oh, but the canary bothers me. He sings too well.
Before Io could register that the feathers Lyra were referring to was actually Pipa's hair and express disapproval towards the concerns of his Avian, their newfound companion snorted with a click of his tongue, appearing particularly disturbed by Pipa's smile.
There was a distant frown on his face, as if he were quite annoyed by their presence.
With the intention of easing the mood, Io suggested they went to the edge to admire the view of the clouds while they were in the sky, although technically, he wouldn't be enjoying much of it.
"Sorry—but there's no view. We aren't even at the bow. The back of the ship isn't gonna impress you much."
"How 'bout we move to the front?" Pipa piped, unfazed by Nash's retort.
The boy continued to sulk, dark eyes meeting Io's for a second. "We can't. Predators."
His heart sank. "The ship's separated into two?"
"Yeah...the front's for them. The back's for us," Nash rolled his eyes, "We'll be arriving in an hour anyway."
There was a fleeting scent of food in the air—causing Io and his Avian to fidget happily til his companion had to burst his bubble.
"Don't get all worked up...'s not for you," Nash reminded.
"For them?" Pipa asked quietly.
"Yeah."
"How about dinner?"
"Just supper. You'll see when we reach the campus."
Upon the sight of their downcast eyes and drooped shoulders, Nash flashed a rare smile in their direction.
"You have to be grateful for the small things."
_____________________
The deck was blockaded soon after, indicating that it was almost time to land. A strange buzz filled the sparrow's ears and the back of his mind—speaking of excitement and thrill, but inciting a shiver as dead as the gaze of a fish.
The airship lurched forward, and Io felt as if his heart was dangerously close to his mouth.
"We will be arriving at Flight School in five minutes. We urge you to stay in your seats..."
"Just buckle up. The landing sucks," Nash sighed, sitting up while adjusting his seatbelt.
Io gulped, staring at the flimsy material strapped across his tummy. The airship banked right and he felt the shift in gravity from the pit of his gut. Holding onto the hand rests at both sides, Io clung on to dear life as the airship lurched once more, dropping to a new low.
The sharp ringing in his ears made it hard for him to remind himself to swallow.
He shifted in his seat, closing his eyes to concentrate on the abnormal speed of his erratic heart—wondering, perhaps, whether it was fear or excitement that drove it mad.
"Shut up," Nash hissed, glaring at him sideways, "your heart's freaking me out. If I can hear it, predators can too."
"I...Okay."
*
The landing was surprisingly much better than he had expected it to be and judging by the look on Nash's face, it wasn't as bad as it was last year.
In fact, there was barely any impact at all—merely a sharp jerk and an announcement that it was alright for them to unbuckle their seat belts. The sparrow's fingers fumbled with the metal clasp, and he realized that his fingers were trembling.
"Idiot," Nash took one glance at his shaking hands before helping Io with his straps. "Don't think. Just don't think about it. The stronger your fear, the better you taste."
The boy nodded quickly, standing up and almost losing his balance in the process. Slipping his bag out of the compartment above, Io followed the line inching towards the back of the plane, wondering if they were all headed towards the deck he had visited moments before.
He tried to think positively.
Pipa was here; there was nothing to be afraid of. He had Lyra to guide him. Surely, nothing could go wro—
"Walk properly," Nash nudged him in the back and Io realized that he was jamming up the line. Apologizing profusely, he walked briskly ahead—climbing the stairs to the deck. With the sails of the airship lowered and docked at a port in mid-air, it was no doubt Io's knees were giving in.
He followed the line, staggering behind in tentative steps that couldn't seem to hold his weight.
There wasn't a proper exit for the back of the ship. Instead, they placed a wooden plank leading to the dock which certainly did not help the sparrow's situation at all.
"Look straight. Don't look down—"
Io looked down.
And couldn't see people. Only houses and buildings were visible, apart from the occasional green of the trees, Io was hanging in mid-air.
So this was it—
the Floating Island.
This was it—
this was where he wanted to be.
This was it—
this was his dream
and dear heavens, he wasn't sure whether it was anymore.
_____________________
Io couldn't pick out Pipa in the entire crowd and he was far too afraid to walk alone.
"Um, Nash," he tapped on his shoulder warily, "where are you going?"
"Dorms." He had forgotten that the boy was a sophomore.
"Oh...where...where do I go?" The sparrow posed tentatively, praying that the myna wasn't annoyed of him already.
"How am I supposed to know?" He snapped, looking away.
"Oh, right. I'm sorry..." Io glanced around, lost among the high ceilings and flagged stone floors.
Nash clicked his tongue, murmuring something under his breath. "The ceremony. You're supposed to prepare for it. Should be an announcement..."
"Io!" His attention snapped towards the source of the sound. Pipa came running towards him and Nash, waving with mirth written on her face.
She grabbed his arm. "Where were you? Didn't you hear the announcement?" She chided, tugging the sparrow in the opposite direction. "Hurry up."
Nash waved lazily, not bothering to look disappointed at the lack of company. "Bye."
"O-oh, good...goodbye," Io blinked—before giving in to the amazing force that came out of Pipa's slender fingers. Ah, someone hated him already.
*
They were escorted into a large empty room with marble floors and ceilings—a stark contrast to the stone-flagged walls earlier. The room seemed to be built for royalty, and yet, there was something so foreign, silent; almost cold about it.
The mahogany double doors clicked shut behind the pair as they shifted closer to the crowd and they noticed a young, bespectacled professor standing in front of the nervous peering crowd, facing them with a beautiful smile on his face.
His features were small, elegant—almost feminine; his figure, slight. He cleared his throat.
"Well, hello everyone. Welcome to Flight School—I suppose," He laughed lightly, a slender finger adjusted the thin metal frames on the bridge of his nose. "I am Wint Callaghan, your Counselor, as well as...the school's administrative assistant."
There was a short pause as Mr. Callaghan swept the room with dreamy eyes. Sapphire-like.
"Well then, I will...start by telling you today's schedule."
Pipa giggled softly into her hand, startling Io for a fraction of a second.
He tilted his head to the side, confused.
"He's adorable!"
Io nodded with an awkward smile, unsure as to how he should respond.
"I will bring all of you for a tour around the campus—not individually, of course, that will take up too much time, and well, I'm sorry that we cancelled the buddy system for freshmen this year...the...the headmistress wasn't particularly fond of that idea, well. Then next we will..." the counselor checked the beige file in his arms.
"Then we will be back in this hall to prepare for the ceremony. Oh yes, the um, the ceremony...it is performed on you and your Avian, of course—it will begin at supper, and then we will let them eat first, then it will be our turn to have supper."
"Supper, then...then bed, supposedly. I will show you the dorms soon. Well now, actually, if there are no questions..." he glanced around for any sign of a raised hand.
"Um excuse me sir," came a little voice from the corner of the crowd. "Is it...is it rude to ask for someone else's Avian?"
Callaghan smiled politely. "No, no it isn't."
The girl beamed, proceeding to ask what the professor's Avian was.
"A...A widowbird," he replied, lowering his gaze.
"Oh," the girl faltered, "so you're prey?"
"Yes...yes I am...just like..." All of you.
He said, voice cracking a little. The way he had said it was as though he had rather not say it at all. His smile, forced, told the story of his cruel mile; and the broken eyes behind those glasses looked— as though they had zero chances.
____________________
Pipa didn't speak much as they exited the grand room, and every prey was unusually silent—not because of the new knowledge that being prey was no happy news, but because it had already begun and that perhaps, the predators were somewhere, enjoying a certain privilege of comfort and ease while they swept up their dust.
"This is the main building. We have the administrative center, which you have just visited, and um, the great hall, which is located on the second floor, where you have your meals. Do note that you must not simply sit anywhere."
"Lecture theaters. Ah, at least you will not get lost here, there are only two. Five for them, um, of course—"
"Library, yes. Four floors. Ah but do note, there is a slight possibility of getting lost—"
"Gardens. Woods, accurately speaking. To me, that is. Um, I would discourage small ones to go there...well, predators; lurking. You know—" he laughed sheepishly.
*
Naturally, Io remembered nothing—except that there was a slight possibility to lose your way. Everywhere.
And perhaps that was the most important thing to remember, because then—he wouldn't step out of his dormitory, into any unnecessary places, and get himself into trouble.
Then again, troubled always seemed to find him.
It was not long until the group of freshmen—or rather, fresh preys—ran into another group of students touring the school campus.
Each and every one of them felt it first: a visible darkness.
A visible darkness that impended, stalking—towards their prey.
They knew not to look, they knew
Not to breathe.
And with lowered heads, they passed a looming darkness that stared, licked their lips in a sort of primal hunger—a looming darkness that smiled.
The sparrow could feel eyes; eyes on his back.
Perhaps waiting—
For a tasty snack.
He hopes they are not baiting—
For him to look back.
Lest fear would crack
The resolve in which he lack.
_____________________
A/N: I'm so sorry for the late update ;__; hehe I hope you like it! I can't wait to write more of this actually :3 But school isn't letting me...ah. I'm sorry if it's going a little slowly :/ description takes up a lot of words >_<
Widowbird to the side!
-Cuppiecake