I could hear the sound of fear—the beat of its wings.
The vulture was near—
Darkness was here.
_________________________
Io pulled his friend by her arm, helping her to her feet—but she was not in any condition to run.
Pipa's head shook. In fear or in denial, no one knew.
Not even her.
Dark wings engulfed their field of vision, blinding with fear.
And if birds could smile;
The vulture did.
There was darkness that snuffed out their light; as easily did the wind at night.
The boy willed his frozen feet to move, to run to hide to do anything that would suffice—but he realized that there would be less of a purpose had he left his friend behind.
And so the boy stayed.
Fear rose from the pit of his stomach;
Or was it his heart?
At his mouth, ready to part?
"What...what do you want?"
The Predator seemed to relish in the abundant fear that leaked from Io's words. The fear that it fed on.
But to Pipa, his friend, there was nothing but a certain courage that—despite the fear that the Avian heard—rose above the rest.
The vulture landed on the branch of a tree beside the girl's fall. She had tripped over the roots that creeped across the grass; hidden. There was something in her eyes, but she passed her hand over them—and they disappeared. Her chin was scraped and would have earned a look of disapproval from the peacock from earlier.
But still, she stood to face their pursuer.
Of course, the vulture did not speak.
It merely folded its wings, talons digging into the branch as if to claw out every ounce of life.
There was a small bag—relative to the size of the vulture—that was slung across its bearded neck.
The thing eyed Pipa and Io, cocking its head to get a better view.
It fixed its uncanny gaze to a stare.
It stayed still; almost unmoving.
Eyes on them.
The world seemed to be void of sound; not a breeze, and not a breath.
The pair did not dare to make a single movement—afraid that the Predator might deem it unnecessary without warning.
It was a long note of silence, and Io could not hold his breath any longer.
The sparrow took a cautious step back—
The vulture screeched;
A horrendous sound that pierced courage and hope alive.
Its wings spread wide—
Huge; almost a cloak of darkness as a sign of intimidation.
The pair jumped in shock, recoiling instinctively as their Avians scattered.
The bearded vulture's jaw-dropping wingspan folded once again—hiding its weapons of fear.
It shifted on the branch of the tree, showing the small letter bag that was slung across its neck. One eye stayed on the pair, watching their movements.
Pipa glanced sideways at her friend, eyes brimming, slightly confused. She didn't dare make another move.
Io swallowed his fear—taking a step forward without a tear.
He approached the small letter bag, arms reaching above his head to unbuckle the strap. Io looked time and again at the bearded vulture, wary of any sign of aggression.
But the vulture only watched; eyes now on the boy instead of the girl.
The sparrow couldn't see what was inside the bag—it was way above his height. But despite the trembling fingers, or the fact that anything could be inside the compartment, he reached in gingerly.
He had no choice, really.
Cautious fingers felt the edges of smooth paper.
The identification of the material gave the small frame a certain relief that coursed through his veins, propelling will into action.
He pushed fear to the back of his mind.
Io took out the first thing he touched—
It was an envelope; sealed with the school stamp in blood-red wax.
Exchanging glances was no longer an uncommon thing between the two. For confusion and uncertainty of the unknown filled the majority of Preys' emotions, and that itself was gradually taken for granted—
Fear.
Till the point that they could ignore it.
"Um," Io started with a gulp. He didn't know what to say. The envelope felt like skin underneath his touch-alive but horrendously disgusting. The sparrow didn't want to open it.
He wasn't even sure if it was for him.
The vulture shifted its weight, a restrained call rising from the back of its throat—almost resembling an irritated groan.
Its magnificent beard shook, rattling its prey. As if to say; hurry up.
Pipa took the envelope from Io's fearful hands, relieving his burden for a moment of careful rest. "Here, let me."
She forced a smile that was all-too sad. Her fingers were shaking, too; perhaps still affected by her fall from before.
The wings of her heart fluttered fast.
There was no letter-opener. So the two made do with their fingers, tearing carefully at the seal to reveal a slip of folded parchment paper.
It was, of course-a letter.
But a letter-for what?
For who?
Io's mind simply couldn't process the possibility that out of the many envelops he had felt in the bag, the one he picked was specifically addressed to him, or Pipa.
"Should we open it?" Came the whisper.
His friend gulped, wary.
She shook her head-
Then, changing her mind, nodded. "Let's see what it is. I-I mean it's just a letter after all. That's harmless, right?"
For some reason, however, the pair couldn't seem to decipher the line between harm and favour.
Was there ever one in the first place?
Pipa slipped the parchment paper out of its cage, unfolding it to read the following:
___________________________
WELCOME, ACE OF SPADES, to the Season games.
Your Predator will be the Ace of Hearts.
You will find enclosed your mark of prey, please where it at all times in the course of the game.
A successful hunt will result in your name being registered under the list officially as their Prey and added into their count.
Wishing you a pleasant flight,
Headmistress V.
P.S Friday, North Grounds, noon. Punctuality is a basic courtesy.
_____________________________
Enclosed, was a black choker that had a glass charm attached to it. The card-Ace of Spades-was carved onto the charm.
It seemed to be the mark of prey that the invitation was referring to.
Realization heightened; but then confusion settled in, taking the vacant seat in the heart.
"This-"
The vulture shrieked once; impatient.
It barred its wings, much like how an animal would bare its fangs to intimidate another.
Their heads snapped up, attention caught and caged with sweet fear.
The headmistress' Avian held out its right wing-the one that was closer to the bag. It swiveled, unfastened.
It looked at the cowering pair with scornful eyes, as if to say: Hurry up.
"He...He wants us to take another," Pipa breathed, legs trembling slightly from the urge to bolt from the scene.
"The season games?" Io paused. "The one Miss Tenner was talking about."
"That's us then."
"Is this for one person?" The boy asked-to no one in particular.
The vulture made a gruff sound of acknowledgement, catching their attention with a strange movement of its head.
"Um...is that a yes?" Pipa asked tentatively, laughing in a reserved manner.
"If birds could nod, yes."
"Er-but. There's two of us. Who is it addressed to?"
It didn't reply. Merely cocked its head to rest its gaze elsewhere.
To put it simply; the vulture looked very much bored indeed.
Had it been human, Io was sure it'd be hiding a mocking laugh behind those wings. Perhaps amused by the pair's helpless and confused expressions.
"Um, excuse me...?" Pipa repeated her question politely afterwards-only to receive the same return of silence. Her friend however, had an inkling of the Avian's boredom.
He figured-partly because it had come to deliver the invitation to one of the many Seasons that must have occurred multiple times before, and partly because they were taking their time.
Io laughed inside; thinking about how frustrating it must be to see the clueless faces of Season first-timers.
"I think it means that we don't have to bother who it's addressed to. Um-perhaps it's not addressed to anyone in particular, you know? Like...a random pick!" Io turned to glance at the vulture.
It didn't bother.
"See?" The sparrow turned to his friend, pointing out hopefully with a sheepish smile. "It's not correcting me or anything, s-so."
"Let's just take another and go!"
"Huh? Wait. So...this one's for you?" Pipa held out the invitation, returning it to his hands. "I'll draw another one-"
"No, wait."
Io held on to the canary's arm, preventing her from approaching the vulture. There were hints of perplexed thinking evident on the former's face-but he brushed them aside.
"Isn't the Ace of Spades the best card in the deck?"
Logic was getting the better of him-
To place the pieces together; form a better picture.
It was a mild guess. But mild guesses were already far better than having a completely useless mind that did not bother to think in fear.
"I don't know. I've never played Poker before," Pipa admitted, glancing down at the glass charm. "But if it's the best card, perhaps there's a sort of advantage?"
"...then you should keep that."
"What?"
Io pushed the envelope back to his friend. "I'm saying you should have the advantage."
The girl frowned; smile disappearing entirely.
It was a strange sight to see, as if something was eating at her heart of joy.
"Io, that's a joke, right? You drew that envelope."
"Yes but there's no rule saying that we can't swap our cards," The sparrow lowered his voice, back facing the vulture-in a naïve attempt to prevent it from eavesdropping. "If...if what the invitation says is true, that you will become someone else's prey if you've been caught, then I think you're at risk."
"I-I mean, it's the truth. You're pretty. And you have nice wings,"
You'd be something to be proud of.
"Surely, you're at a much greater risk of getting caught as compared to...me."
You'd be...a good catch.
The boy was sorry.
Guilt was eating at his heart-he knew that he was making the same mistake Nash did.
He was hiding behind a veil of dull appearances.
He did not stand out.
For that-he was thankful. But unlike Nash, Io believed that beauty had its fair share of hardships in this world.
Because the world was equally unfair towards everyone, it was, in all intents and purposes-fair, after all.
The dull sparrow took a step forward, approaching the vulture for his second draw.
His friend, of all times, chose not to speak. Words that had always come so naturally to a butterfly like herself had, for once, failed.
Io felt for a second envelope in the letter bag. He noticed-albeit regrettably-that all of the invitations felt exactly the same.
Was there a choice at this point of time? He wondered.
Indeed, Io could not choose his circumstances at the given time; but, however, he knew that he could choose what he thought of it.
.
The bearded vulture spread its wings with a piercing call, preparing for flight.
"What is it? What did you get?" Pipa asked urgently-voice cracking despite her smile that had resurfaced. "The King? Queen?"
The boy's gaze scanned the contents of the invitation, hurriedly stowing it away in the pocket of his blazer before the canary could steal a glance.
The predator took off towards the sky.
"Nothing. Just a normal card," Io laughed. "Not too high, not too low-just like me."
His trusting friend sighed in relief. But after all, 'trusting' was the beautiful version of 'gullible'. And Pipa was a beautiful one indeed.
"I really don't know what I'd do without you, Io."
The sparrow smiled small as they took their first step in the direction of the Prey's dorms. "Haha, really? I think you make friends very easily, Pipa."
She shook her head. "There's a difference between friends and acquaintances."
Io tried his best to listen.
He really did.
But for some reason, he could not seem to hear.
For the thing blocking out all sound was none other than;
Fear-
_____________________________
WELCOME, JOKER, to the Season games.
Good luck.
Headmistress V.
P.S Friday, North Grounds, noon. Punctuality is a basic courtesy.
_______________________________
Good luck?
What could that possibly mean?
For Io...was definitely not a joker.
_______________________________
The Predator's dormitory was nestled in an uncanny silence as usual. There was nothing different about the cold-void of sound and laughter.
Marble floors and glass chandeliers lit up the palace-like building; producing a shine that never seemed to be dulled by the dark atmosphere.
Beautiful as it was, the place felt like an empty heart abandoned.
There was not a hint of home or welcome.
Not in the spacious lobby that was greeted by the grandest staircase; not in the carpeted corridors; and definitely not in the eyes of those who lived in the dormitory.
There was, only-the sound of hollow footsteps as they echoed throughout the building. The click of heels; the tap of boots; the ghost-like shuffle as they crossed rooms and halls towards their destination.
Today, these footsteps led towards a particular destination-and that was the common room. It was large and redundantly spacious, filled by unnecessary décor.
A blinding white grand piano sat at the corner of the room; yet it was silent, just as the entire building was supposed to be. The instrument was never heard.
Velvet sofas and matching love seats centered the intricate room, colors reflecting extravagant wallpaper of royal purple.
But as attention-grabbing as it was, the room would serve little purpose of beauty had it not been for the people who were in it.
For they were the center of attention.
.
Twelve Predators were waiting.
These Predators were well-known for being at the top of the chain, and that they knew very well indeed. The acknowledgement of their power wasn't something that should be akin to that of arrogance.
In fact, the acceptance of being the best thirteen-the highest ranking Predators-could be said to be a great responsibility of a great power. And of course; 'responsibility' simply being a beautiful word for 'burden'.
"Sullivan," The falcon smirked at the entrance of another. "You're late."
Luka's gaze came to rest upon his acquaintance in an indifferent manner. It then resumed to its original direction-straight ahead.
"It's not here yet."
The harpy eagle rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. "Punctuality is a basic courtesy, newbie."
Luka wanted to laugh, but he was too tired for that. Instead, he settled with a vague shrug of his shoulders.
"Just because you've been accepted into the games doesn't mean you can get all cocky, Sullivan," The falcon continued, wagging his finger in front of the other in a mocking manner. "We're your seniors, after all."
The subject of the conversation did not bother with an answer. He knew none of them would listen anyway.
"V's late, don't you think?"
"Awkward," The Harpy hummed, "He's always on time. I bet some of those idiots held him up with the pick."
"C'mon Harpy. You gotta understand. I mean-they're Marks," The eagle owl yawned, shielding his eyes from the light. "Can't be helped. Let's be patient, it is a virtue, after all."
The remaining numbers in the room remained in still silence, keeping thoughts to themselves. After all, there was little they wanted to share.
Predators had never been one to be generous, either way.
"What's taking him so long?"
"Honestly," The snowy owl confessed as he lounged on one of the velvet sofas, "I'm not interested in this Season's game...I don't need more Marks."
The falcon snorted. "Spare us the bragging about your nightingale. We know he's your favorite."
"What? He's everyone's favorite."
"Headmistress V should just let us drop out once we're satisfied with our Prey," A bespectacled girl folded her arms as she stared out of the window.
The eagle owl tilted his head backwards, opening his sensitive eyes briefly to correct her. "It's Mark, Jane, not Prey. Let's be nice."
Jane squared her shoulder apathetically. "I was merely being realistic."
The response? A moment void of sound-a soulless room.
"Speaking of realistic, where is he?"
"Him?"
"Probably spending time with the Joker he caught last season. Until he throws them away, that is."
The Harpy smirked. "Well, he's going to have the last pick then. Since we're all here and he's choosing to skip, again."
Luka was quiet.
He knew this all too well.
"Yes, but realistically speaking, he doesn't have to care about his draw. That's why he can afford to skip," The falcon pointed out, speaking his mind about the absent figure. "He's going to hunt for Joker anyway."
"He always does. Like, every season. Without fail."
"Shut up-you're noisy."
"For fuck's sake I barely spoke."
"You're all noisy," The snowy owl sighed with an irritated frown that expressed utmost discomfort. "When is that thing coming?"
It was a timely question that required no answer-for the Headmistress' Avian could be seen from the entrance of the balcony; wings catching the air for a relaxed glide towards the common room.
"V's here."
"Fucking finally..."
Jane unlocked the doors to the balcony, stepping out to receive the bearded vulture with a plain smile.
Several followed suit, gathering at the balcony to await its arrival.
The strong beat of its wings could be heard as the Avian descended, perching on the fancy railings with a usual call to announce its arrival.
"Hey V," Jane smoothed a hand over the vulture's ruffled feathers, coaxing it gently.
"Sup V."
"It's not like you to be late."
The vulture shrieked a laugh, acknowledging the rest of its equals whilst enjoying the attention. It lifted its wing to reveal a black pouch slung across its neck.
They advanced; moving forward.
One by one, the Predators took turns to draw their charms-the invitations to the special game of Season.
Some made a face; several smirked; and the rest remained indifferent.
But overall-they seemed used to the procedure.
The vulture left soon after, in search for the thirteenth Predator.
And everything was back to the uncanny silence, as if it had never been lifted.
The remaining dispersed, Nocturnes retreating back to their dorms and the others back to class or late lunch.
"Sullivan," The falcon caught up, resting an all-too-friendly arm on the golden eagle's shoulder. "What did you get?"
Luka reached into the pocket of his blazer, pulling out his charm.
King of Hearts.
"Fit for a king," The falcon laughed, slapping the other's back. "Well? Wanna know what I got?"
Luka didn't.
"Ace of Hearts. Nice, eh? Reminds me of the time when I hunted Kipa. Fiesty little one he is," The falcon wasn't really talking to anyone in particular at this point of time; so Luka merely assumed he was trying to show off.
He didn't exactly want to hear what the fellow Predator had to say.
"You're a quiet one, huh? What-the little fledging excited for his first hunt?" The falcon mocked playfully, holding his arm out all of a sudden.
His Avian landed on the gloved arm in a dead silence; fit for hunting prey.
"Not really," Luka responded, eyes set straight ahead.
"Seriously? Don't have to be shy. It's your first hunt as a third year-I bet Headmistress V's been dying to let you play in the games but it's only because of your age that she...refrained," The falcon laughed, stroking his beautiful Avian. "After all, golden eagles are deadly as fuck."
There was a hint of a smirk on the edge of Luka's lips.
Nothing like compliments to swell a Predator's precious pride.
But the golden eagle's eyes weren't set on the number of his card.
Not the role he was given; not the name of the charm; and surely not something as minor as pride.
The King of Hearts.
Not that he cared, really.
Because he, too-
Would be after the Joker.
____________________________
Io looked up to the empty sky, yearning to ask if there was anyone there.
Wasn't He supposed to watch over me?
Where was He at times when he needed Him the most?
But no matter how many times he'd like to ask, Io knew that there would be no answer.
He'd been searching, indeed, for quite a long time. He wasn't the only one.
It is no surprise that Faith would be doubted in times like this.
But perhaps it is because-He tests those who are truly strong.
Ah...but Io was not strong.
That was the only logical conclusion he had come to. After all, he had accepted his life here without much resistance.
Would it have mattered;
Had he kept the Ace of Hearts, and decided to let Pipa draw the next?
Precisely because it was Io himself who drew the first?
Ah, but that was the past.
And this...was the present.
And all Io could do was look back...
Look back and wonder if he had the strength to smile upon his misfortune;
Look back and wonder if he had the strength to smile upon mistakes.
But now, he could only look forward.
Towards the coming Friday, where things were bound to start.
Now, he could only try
To hold his head up high;
And look the world-
Straight in its eye.
__________________________
A/N: Is it snowing outside? I hope you're warm :) It's been raining a lot over here. No four seasons, you see.
I hope the insights on Season was interesting. But I acknowledge that its really slow >_< I'm sorry. But of course, I'll update every week ^^ GAH I'm impatient for them to meet but I also want to build it up well! I'm very worried of rushing into things. So I'll reveal stuff one by one :) Meanwhile, theories and interpretations are gladly welcome :D
By the way, have you seen a bearded vulture before?
The video above is of a man with his bearded vulture :) He loves his birds (kisses them a lot O.O) so I hope you can watch it to get a glimpse of how big and scary (and beautiful) the bearded vulture is.
-Cuppiecake.