Pipa was quite alone in the woods at night.
Or so she thought she was; because there was someone watching her from afar—though she did not know.
And so the canary thought herself to be alone in the woods at night. A wandering, lost prey in the darkness of a large, hungry world.
It was of her nature to think about her friends at a time like this.
How, at first, she had been together with a couple of other Marks before they got scattered and separated during a chase.
The rule that forbid them to speak proved to be more than just a simple obstruction to victory. Because of the lack of communication, Pipa was often left in the dark—confused as to what others wanted to do next and whether a plan could be devised.
Though she had thought—in the initial stages—of grouping together and moving towards a common goal as a pack, it appeared to be a useless plan under such circumstances.
A pack without communication was as good as a school of fish swimming into a readied net.
Pipa pushed the ache in her legs to the back of her mind, ignoring everything completely as she pushed on with Sylvey hovering ahead.
The bag over her shoulder—though light with limited supplies—seemed as if it contained the crushed bits of what was left of herself; broken hopes and tattered smiles that hid underneath the canvas.
The canary knew that she had to be doing the most foolish thing in the world.
A prey wandering alone in the woods at night with nothing left but an empty smile and an empty heart—
Oh there was no easier prey in this world than one that seemed too weak to carry on.
For it was only a matter of time before predators flocked to such a clean scent of fear and despair—
Searching for a delicious heart to feed and tear.
_________________________________
Rules;
What purpose did they serve?
Iolani Tori was not a boy that watched his mundane life sweep past in the form of a peaceful village. Perhaps it could be said that he was curious—
Of what lay beyond the edge of the forest that his mother never told him about;
Of the things that he had yet to touch and taste and smell and see;
Of the things that he had yet to feel;
To think—
And to thirst,
Or quench
A hunger
That had ceased to
Prey on
Narrow Knowledge.
For rules;
Why were they there?
What did they do but raise the walls that contained his hunger and keep him from the delight of knowing any longer—
Why narrow when he could be boundless?
Why cease when he could continue?
Why thirst when he could drink—
From where?
If only he could dare.
.
He woke.
The sparrow's eyes had opened; not with a start—but a slow revelation, as if they had come to see the world.
He had noticed the stillness of a shadow beside him, rising; falling in a peaceful motion that lulled the heart so into a patient beat, sleeping in the chambers of its safe prison. His eyes, a mix of chocolate and orange, had trained on the eagle before him—a sleeping figure that, despite its still peace, remained guarded against the rest of the world.
Io had caught the glimmer of a charm; its cool surface resting on a part of Luka's collarbone.
It had glinted under the dim light of the kerosene lamp inside their tent, laying quite bare, with its numbers there.
The King of Hearts—it had reflected, a frosted print on a simple, rectangular piece of glass.
And above all;
It called.
A soft whispering that often carried the secrets of a question to the cage of Io's heart. It called to him—the rush of a dare, the spark before a flare; it waited.
There was no rule, was there?
No rule about taking a predator's charm.
If he thought about it carefully—their charms didn't even have a name.
No, he was sure they weren't called 'Mark of Prey'.
There was a reason; a purpose for them to be. Himself, the weak.
The prey.
What would happen if he took it?
The eagle's charm—what would happen? If he took it?
There had been no such rule; as Io recalled.
For ambiguous things were meant to be left out, and this was where—if, perhaps—Io were to dare;
To let curiosity roam, a tireless bane
To turn the tables and change the game.
________________________________
"Why does Io have a different starting point?" She had asked fearfully, peering over Miss Tenner's shoulder in attempt to catch a glimpse of her friend's receding back. "Is something wrong? Will he be alone?"
"Tori has a special role, my dear. He will be starting on point further from the predators, so I assure you he will be alright."
Pipa wanted to believe her—she really did.
But she wasn't naive enough to ignore the laid out facts that bared their fangs at her fluttering heart;
And so she let them sink their teeth into her flesh.
.
Was Io the Joker?
The question she posed was quiet, and she had meant it for no one but herself.
Unfortunately, Pipa must have spoken her mind out loud—as clumsy as she was—for the blue jay beside her snorted with a laugh.
"Of course he is. Tenner's face when she saw his Mark of Prey...wow. Wish I caught that on tape."
Pipa looked to her right, startled by the response. "But...but didn't Professor Faustes say that first timers were unlikely to be Jokers?"
"Unlikely," The blue jay shrugged as she pointed out the perfect word with a flaw. "Guess the sparrow was just unlucky."
________________________________
It stilled—the forest did; as if in quiet waiting for first light.
The second day of Season games and Io was beginning to consider himself the very opposite of unlucky indeed.
No one—not he; not Lyra; and definitely not the golden eagle by his side—had thought the possibility of his survival promising.
For it seemed rather bleak indeed.
Had curiosity not killed him by this point of time, Luka wondered whether it—for some clever reason—had grown a heart of mercy for this harmless sparrow.
The eagle slipped a hand into his back pocket, checking for the presence of the Joker's Mark.
The chilled touch of glass pressed firm against his fingertips, and it was enough to lull the short, but strange instinct in his chest.
As if he had thought something was wrong.
But indeed it was known that instincts were never always right; and so Luka pushed it out of his mind with a strong insistence, telling himself that things were where they belonged.
That nothing was missing;
Nothing absent;
And nothing different—
Except the quiet.
The still quietness of the air that was
Free
Of curious thoughts and
Questions, burning like a
Fire without its crackle;
Wind without a whisper;
Word without a voice—
Silence.
Luka never knew it could be so unbearable.
.
Still, they set off in a north-west direction with Victoria scouting ahead once again. The night might have been over; but surely that didn't suggest the absence of dangerous predators.
In fact, Luka knew very well of someone that would soon be on their trail.
But was he to be afraid?
Perhaps not; for the eagle knew little of Vaughn. Was everyone over-estimating that vulture?
Victoria warned her Winged at that thought.
It was a mistake that was often made by others and she reminded him that he knew better than that.
How? Luka thought, a flame in his eyes. Average vision, smell—even his wingspan is shorter than yours.
He almost smiled to himself, but something else flitted across his mind: surely that meant the vulture had something up his sleeve?
The golden eagle left his thoughts to glance at the sparrow that was trailing behind tentatively, eyes darting around from time to time before he noticed that the predator was looking at him.
He positively jumped.
Luka found this strange—very disconcerting indeed for there must be something causing the change in his behaviour.
But what of it?
It had nothing to do with him. If the sparrow proved himself to be a burden, so be it—he'd leave him behind.
Victoria said nothing at that, her silence speaking for herself.
It was the brief moment however, where predator and prey met eyes; exchanged gazes, when Luka saw a strange spark of recognition in the sparrow's eyes.
Fear ignited such a spark, and all of a sudden—Io could not look at the eagle any longer.
He never lifted his head again.
____________________________
He hadn't expected the darkness to come crawling into his cage; its skinny legs making a skittering sound that tapped disturbingly at the lock on his door.
Then, it turned legless—seeping through the gaps of his house mostly by the windows to his soul, his eyes—passing defences with such ease that made him frown and turn away in discomfort for he could only see a void outside.
With the light of dawn came the absence of shadows that flickered across the eagle's face at night; and it seemed to clear the fog in Io's mind.
When Luka had turned to face him, his heart held its sound—falling for a moment as if it had stopped beating in flight—and he knew.
He knew that he had seen this person before; somewhere, but where?
His heart stilled, and he looked away to breathe.
Lyra remarked that it might just be his silly imagination, and she told him to focus on the task at hand.
They were sure that with someone else, he might be able to get out of this safely at least.
The sparrow nodded to himself, trying his best to put his trust in the eagle's words from the night before—that they would be the first to find that exit, because they had to be.
But what was this silence?
Io had not heard a thing coming from the eagle since they exchanged names—was he mad at him?
If so, why?
And;
Was Luka keeping his thoughts silent?
Or was it Io himself who could not hear?
___________________________
As it appears, Luka was thinking the exact same thing. He had passed the stage of being wary about the sparrow—for the small thing suddenly seemed less daring as he thought he was. His mind gratefully jumped to the conclusion that as long as the curious one remained quiet and not-so-curious, there would be less trouble for the both of them.
Indeed, he had thought so;
But the Box had a mind of its own.
Not that the eagle was well aware, of course—he was as new to this as Io was.
He walked ahead; leading the way with an occasional glance over his shoulder to check whether his newfound prey was close behind. The action was involuntary—perhaps resembling his unconscious hand that slipped into his back pocket to confirm the touch of the Joker's charm.
Cold.
The sun was; emotionlessly so.
Weak rays felt no strength to push past the canopies of trees that Luka and Io tread under in silence. Victoria sought warmth; the insulation provided by her feathers barely sufficient in the sudden cold that were the skies.
Keen eyes narrowed in on a clearing up ahead, and—upon further assessment—a girl that she and Luka had seen before.
She dropped her altitude quickly and efficiently, informing her Winged of the girl in a careful tone.
She seems familiar...ah, yes. The blonde one who smiles very much.
Quite the lot don't you think?
Luka stopped in his tracks, turning behind once more.
The sparrow and his friends? He was amused by how his Avian chose to refer them as.
Friends? Not really, no. That's a bold claim you have there.
Sparrow, Luka wasn't quite sure whether the prey was able to hear him—or entirely sure whether he cared about that—but he turned to face him wholly, trying to catch his eye. Wait here.
Io did not stop.
He walked straight into Luka with his head bowed, barely watching where he was going.
With a small surprised yelp, he looked up—then, away; bowing his head twice in apology.
The eagle found this a tad bit amusing, so he let slip a rare smile.
So, Luka? Avoid the clearing?
No, he said unexpectedly, glancing down at the sparrow. I'm feeling good today, so I know you won't lose in a fight.
Oh bother. Just because you're in a good mood doesn't mean I'd like to pick a fight with another predator.
Io trailed behind the eagle in tentative steps.
It was only a matter of time before he saw the clearing ahead, but Luka didn't think much of it.
During the day;
He had no disadvantage at all.
______________________________
Io—
I need to help him.
Pipa's mind had been nowhere near the severity of her own situation. It had seemed rather trivial as compared to what she thought her friend must be facing.
Io had not asked to be the Joker. In fact, Pipa could have very well blamed herself for taking his charm when the vulture allowed them to draw an invitation at random.
Had she drawn a charm by herself, Io would have had her charm right now—the Ace of Spades.
Pipa had had this on her mind for the entirety of the first day.
It had toyed with her mind during her time with a couple of newfound friends as they moved in a pack;
It had clung to her legs when she was picked out and hunted down by a predator;
It had grasped her heart in a fierce snatch when she was separated from the others;
Yet now, it was slipping on ice—
As she felt herself cornered by a huge, black vulture.
.
He didn't make a sound, at first;
Merely eyed her closely like how a woman would eye a diamond as if inspecting whether it was real or simply a fake.
His features were sharp and he was ridiculously tall for someone as small as Pipa; but it was his eyes—enchantingly dark—his eyes, that left scars on her heart that began to understand what true fear felt.
Her eyes removed themselves from the tall figure, darting around in search for an escape.
There was no smile on her face.
The crunch of dead leaves felt like the crush of her own heart as she noticed that the vulture was advancing towards her.
She gripped the charm on her delicate neck, heart pounding against its cage. She wished she could speak—at least use words to defend herself even if it seemed that all was lost—
Vaughn smiled.
Pipa was a child who liked the world she saw very much so. That is, the world she saw—in the eyes of others—was one that belonged to a fairy tale indeed.
They were terribly mistaken, however...for Pipa did not see the world as a fairy tale at all.
Had she given it a color, perhaps a name for the world that she saw and loved the way it was—
It would have been disease.
A murky green specked with the red of flesh as it rose in a stench of poisonous fumes spreading across the land like a putrid wind.
And so Pipa thought she had found a cure for it.
A perfect cure for a beautiful disease—and that was a
Smile.
Smiles, she thought, were meant to heal.
So; what was this?
What kind of smile was this—
One that shook the very core of her tiny frame, rattling bones that were covered in flesh and coated with a pale skin but beneath it all would be reduced to rotting meat—
Yes.
That was it.
Reduced;
The vulture's smile reduced.
It reduced one to nothing but an unrecognizable pile of dead flesh and that—
Was what it fed on.
____________________________
Vaughn lowered his head, a stray lock of hair slipping over his shoulder to rest in mid-air. His Avian landed on a low branch of the tree behind Pipa—the absence of an escape route made clear to the girl.
The canary swallowed, clutching her canvas bag tightly in her arms before she forced herself to return his smile.
Vaughn appeared mildly surprised, laughing softly before taking her wrist.
Pipa panicked, jumping with a start before jerking her hand away—
The vulture arched a perfect brow, as if in amusement, when his eyes rested on the canary's neck.
Her charm flickered under the light of the sun—the Ace of Spades.
Perhaps it had never occurred to Vaughn before; or perhaps it was because he rarely saw any other Mark of Prey apart from the one he was so familiar with—but the vulture was careful with his next step, as if he found himself treading on thin ice.
He had watched as she separated herself from the rest of her friends;
Watched as she turned behind pretending someone was after her;
As she clutched her charm while she ran
As if she was the Joker.
.
Surely, Vaughn had seen many Jokers pretend to be what they were not, leading to the most predictable behaviour that made it so simple for a reader like himself—but ordinary prey diving into trouble itself seemed to be an impossible prospect to the vulture.
And yet, here she was.
The impossible prospect standing before him, a weak smile upon her face.
A sort of smile that reminded Vaughn of himself from before—but that only angered him further.
He spoke to her, projecting the voice of his mind with an unsettling tone that was soft as fur.
Little bird, you must be friends with the Joker.
There seemed to be no difference in Pipa's expression—despite the horrifying revelation of her purpose. It was as if she hadn't heard him at all.
But if she did, Vaughn admitted that he was slightly surprised by her ability to hide her emotions.
Sweet thing, aren't you?
Helping your friend by confusing other predators.
Quite a clever plan too.
Pipa stared into eyes that were so, so dark.
But I wonder why.
She saw nothing reflected in those eyes; but perhaps, her own fear. And of course, Pipa could not hear a word he was saying.
Vaughn took a step back.
Then, with the same smile from before—his arm moved as if to present her an escape route.
He was letting her get away.
Pipa and her Avian took no chance in hesitation, fleeing from the vulture with a blossom of hope in her heart that began to beat its wings once again.
Vaughn didn't take her Mark of Prey;
Neither did he try hard enough to communicate with her through his Link;
Which his Avian Nox cared little for.
They watched as Pipa and Sylvester were reduced to figures smaller than his fingers, mind clear from much less any emotion Vaughn ever felt in brittle life.
There was no disappointment; or anger; or pity, even—
For all Vaughn had to do was follow her,
And she would lead;
Very much like a moth to the flame.
Or in her case,
A pretty...little...butterfly.
______________________________
Luka's eyes went straight for the girl's neck—just to check.
He noted the surprising presence of her Mark of Prey, inferring instantly that she had yet been hunted. The eagle was slightly relieved that he need not fear the prospect of protecting the Joker's charm from another player—for it took far too much effort and he wasn't in the mood to speak.
Fight, perhaps...but letting someone else into his Link—not so.
A small gasp came from behind but Luka didn't need to turn to see who it was.
They had skirted the edges of the clearing while Victoria circled round to inspect the girl.
She was resting against a tree, eyes closed peacefully in sleep—
Io couldn't tell that his feet were moving.
His heart raced fast at the sight of a friend and it flew, swift;
But then it fell, too.
And the sparrow realized that something was terribly wrong but there was no telling what exactly was—
He felt as if he was being watched.
______________________________
The dangerous sun hung in the sky above; the island shivering with unrest and a chilled conscience—for the Box was silent as the harmless prey inside began to move;
Only to realize that the reason it was called the Box was because—
There was no way out.
_______________________________
Io knelt by his friend; Luka and Victoria a distance behind even though they were a step ahead in indifferent realization.
They saw that her chest made no movement—it didn't rise, and neither did it fall.
It stayed quite still.
Though there was a smile on her face—
Her smile that told the world that everything was going...
To be alright.
Pipa
Was very
Very
Very—
Still.
______________________________
A/N:
I'm so terribly sorry for the late update and the (relatively) short chapter >_< I'll most likely be updating again for this week so I hope you won't be too angry with me *sobs in the distance*
Huee I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
...of course you didn't, that cliffhanger probably made you so upset with this useless cupcake over here *flails arms miserably*
Welp! Better get working on the next one >:D
-Cuppiecake.