Should the sun be tasked to search for the moon, it would have to chase the skies. Traces of the night, left behind by he who had come before the other, would have to be gathered and pieced together despite the gaps.

Sheer numbers could not make up for the distance that Jing believed to exist between her and the world, let alone the people that walked the earth. She could not see beyond the forest, dense and dark amidst the fog. Navigating the Box without Sol was inviting every element of hardship and trouble, seeking out the deepest parts of the night.

She stopped every now and then, glancing over her shoulder to see if she had, by some miracle, become alone. Cai returned her gaze with a stare that was blank, prompting her to continue with her lead.

Behind, Vaughn and several Nocturnes searched the skies although amongst them, only few could see the light that Iolani was. Grey clouds masked the light of the moon, shrouding the Eye and thickening the inky darkness.

One of the owls were quick to point this out. No sign of Reux. It's dark and cloudy—I don't think he's got a chance around here unless he's a Nocturne either. Vaughn recognized him from a while back, when he used to drop by Cameron's evening classes just to catch his eye and give a small wave. He was one of Cameron's classmates.

That is precisely why he has been able to take advantage of every predator's time of weakness. Cai spoke on behalf of his phoenix friend. We suspect that Reux might be possessing more than one Avian, one of them being a Nocturne. Keep an eye out for others as well—he's not alone.

The moment of silence, masked by a cloak of darkness, was short-lived. There was an eagle's call in the distance, north-east from where they were heading and all at once, they turned in response. Jing put forth that shifting would prove faster than weaving through the forest at night on foot.

Vaughn, you're in charge. The phoenix turned to him without a second to waste. The latter remained stunned, hesitant mid-shift.

But that's Sullivan, he could not help but point her attention towards the source of notice, who he had recognized almost at once.

Jing was surprised by how close she was to laughing as she watched the face that wore a bitter expression at every council meeting pause in confusion and doubt. It was new. I'll give you a start.

She produced a gauntlet of her own from her satchel, used on rare occasions since Sol could never really fit on her arm, and prompted the vulture to shift. He stared at her, conflict in his eyes before giving in to her demands. She who had seared a white-hot burn across his back—although intended for another—in indifference, was about to give him a boosted take-off.

You never got around to telling your mother what you had always seen in Io, did you? The phoenix said in his Link, having known since the very beginning. You were one of the few who could see his Avian.

Vaughn hated the idea—that she knew from the start and was waiting for him to act, keeping a tab on his every action and thought. I never really liked you.

He heard her laugh for the very first time, ringing at the back of his mind as he perched on her arm and felt the force of being propelled, the wind in his face. I never really liked me too.

*

Vaughn was set on circling the skies after sending a couple of members ahead when the trees behind him lit up with a flash, almost as though a bolt of lightning had descended from the skies and struck the earth below. He had been right—something had distorted the source of the call; either that or it had been a distraction from elsewhere, away from the center of the conflict.

The vulture dived towards the heated light that was beginning to fade into a glow, soft and lunar. He was glad that his instincts had not been blunted by the straw of emotion, no longer keen from time and rust.

Something about the night was the brightest it would ever be.

"He's one. What are we waiting for?"

Vaughn landed beyond the clearing, shrouded by darkness and leaves. There, his eyes were assaulted—or so he deemed them to be—by the sight of the moon, deconstructed from the sky and pieced together on the back of Iolani Tori, spread wide like a shield that spanned the entire clearing from end to end; indeed, the most frightening scene of beauty.

"But those wings...he really is the moon phoenix—"

There were so many of them. Some, faces that he would have never noticed.

"You're forgetting that the Pyramid doesn't matter, sweetheart." Reux. At once, the vulture called through his Link for the rest of his team. "He who refuses to be taught does not belong."

He could hear the echo of Iolani's voice in his head, light and heavy all at once. I'm afraid I cannot disagree. I do not belong anywhere at all. His response was characteristic of everything he so foolishly encompassed—taking the road less travelled, alone.

Behind him was a shadow, collapsed on the forest floor. Sullivan, struggling to keep his eyes opened and focused. Reux, unsheathing his weapon, a blade. Ready.

They closed in on command and Vaughn shifted on instinct, pulling out and cocking the thief. It had been a while since he took aim or felt its trigger, cool, against the surface of his skin. No longer familiar in his palm, it trembled.

Alekseyev!

He was so frightened, so afraid to pull the trigger that he was hearing things. The vulture felt a presence behind him and turned at once, whipping around and steadying his aim but there was a vice-like grip on his wrist that aimed the barrel of his gun towards the ground and he struggled, twisting out of—

You're not hearing voices, you idiot.

Cameron held the vulture by his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. Put that thing away. It's not like you stand a chance against them. They're Hunters! You don't want to get on the wrong side of things.

Vaughn stared.

Cam? Are you...are you talking to me? It had been ages since the Nocturne spared him a single glance, let alone speak a word to the vulture. It made the creature in his cage stagger and drop, sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

Stunned, his grip on the trigger slackened and the silencer slipped out of his hand and onto the earth.

Heads turned.

The nearest Hunter advanced, stepping beyond the clearing before peering into the darkness. Cameron's Avian dived at his face, nipping at the Hunter's cheek and blocking his view while the former bolted away from the clearing—grabbing the vulture's arm and dragging the still latter into a start.

Wait, Cam! I'm not—

Stop being a burden and actually run you shit, the Nocturne glared over his shoulder, head turned at an uncanny angle. There's two of them right behind you so stop whining and get your—

NO! Vaughn jerked his arm out of Cameron's grasp and started in the other direction, pale and afraid that he had made the worst decision in his entire life; insane. Cam, I.

I'm done running. He felt their Link stretch thin as he shifted into Nox, heading towards all that he feared. This was insane. He was insane. This was not him.

But as he turned to head back, there was a blade between his eyes to which he swerved on instinct to avoid, losing his balance mid-air and smacking against the bark of a tree. He shifted to raise an arm in guard, shielding his eyes but a distraction came in the form of a cry in the distance—anguished and in pain.

Vaughn slipped away, stealing his attacker's dagger sheathed by his hip and starting into a dead sprint towards the clearing. Someone was calling his name.

The pieces of the moon attached to Iolani's back were drenched in red. What looked to him like knives had their blades sunk deep into Io's wings, blood trickling down lunar feathers as they began to lose their glow.

Vaughn shifted as he dived, using the momentum that he had gained to knock Reux off his feet as he shifted, again, to straddle the monster and raise the blade above his heart—

"You disgust me," the vulture dropped his weapon and disarmed the shrike with a blow to his gut, twisting his arm sideways till he slackened his grip. He turned to watch his back, finding that he wasn't alone.

Cai was restraining Reux's feet with his bare hands, calling for the other Nocturnes to inform the officials. He pulled out a vial of chloroform and a store a strip of cloth from his shirt. "Stuff this in his face and knock him out."

He did.

The wind was loud, and Vaughn could hardly hear anything else other than the imminence of adversity, singing in his ears. He did double, triple, and dead knots on the rope around Reux's hands and feet for the shrike looked as deadly still as he was moving.

"Get him on the stretcher. On three," they lifted the shrike onto the foldable stretcher just as Jing arrived. At once, she tended to Luka who was severely injured and had lost consciousness. "Some of the Hunters managed to escape. We only got a couple, so. might need you to list Avians or describe faces after this."

The vulture nodded vaguely, senses dull and muted. His first thought took to Cameron and the abruptness of their parting; that, and the latter's safety. While he remained confident of the Nocturne's acute senses (he was, after all, in his element of the night), the fearful reminder of a Hunter's skill, unlike any ordinary diurnal, kept his worries alive.

All of a sudden, there were simply too many things that required Vaughn Alekseyev's attention. He could feel the night begin to gather its ends into a knot, and what was initially shrouded by fear parted to reveal the weight of the world upon his shoulders.

If Iolani Tori had been carrying this on his back for the longest time, Vaughn was surprised that his tiny shoulders didn't collapse half-way down the journey and send his tiny frame tumbling down the hill.

"Hi Vaughn," said the moon quietly, tapping on his shoulder. "Could you help me remove these metal things in my wings?"

He had expected him to crack. But looking at him now, he was, indeed, broken and cracked—pulverized by the wind and the world that was dark and had no room for light.

"Those are knives and daggers, Iolani. I'm surprised to see that they aren't mine," the vulture leaned down to start with the first. "The wounds are deep. Maybe its best if you wait until we're at the medical tent...I don't have the necessary tools to clean it."

"Okay," Io rubbed his eyes with fingers that were smeared with earth and blood. Vaughn slapped his hand aside. "It's just really painful, you know?"

"Don't rub your eyes with hands like that. It's enough that your wounds are caked with dirt! I suppose you would very much like an eye infection to go with it?"

Io laughed, tired and bruised. "No...no, I wouldn't."

"I'm glad you're okay, Vaughn."

His words were unexpected and sudden, lowering the wall that once stood between them both. I'm glad you stopped running away.

The boy felt the ground beneath his feet open and swallow him whole, giving way to an abyss that ushered his consciousness into a darkness that was warm.

*

Vaughn caught him as he was falling forward, short of burying his face in dirt and grime. He called for a stretcher and struggled to place Io carefully on the ground. No one else seemed to notice the sudden absence of light; or that the night sky was missing a moon. It made the vulture feel as though he had been staring into a void all this while, temporarily blind as black patches made up most of his vision. Jing was the only one who noticed.

She came over and knelt beside Io, leaning down to part his eyelids.

"Fainted," she declared, turning to Vaughn as an official came by to unfold a stretcher beside Io. "From exhaustion, most likely." She looked him in the eye and gazed at the creature hiding behind his windows.

"I heard you met a friend."

Vaughn averted his eyes. "No. It's nothing—I've forgotten about him."

"Have you?" The phoenix prompted again, hovering a hand over Io's upper arm to close an open wound. "I've managed to repair some of Luka's muscles and prevent him from losing too much blood. Io's condition doesn't look too severe either."

He knew what she was hinting at, the moment she spoke. Yet, the hesitance that brewed within— stemming from the fear of conflict and an affection he could never kill—held him against his will and created the pause in action.

"That, too, would be considered running," Jing said with a rare smile and Vaughn could not help but curse the world and Iolani Tori. More of Iolani Tori. Actually, just Iolani Tori.

_____________________________

The world beyond his windows, closed, was quiet and dark. It hissed a pitch of silence—sharp and constant—ringing in his ears before the whir of a fan soothed the pulsing of his heart in his head. He felt mildly displaced by the scene outside, having flung open his windows to feel the wind in his face.

Faded curtains of a sickly blue were drawn around his bed, providing the shade and privacy that he'd mistaken for quiet darkness just moments before, when his eyes were closed.

Io struggled to rise, leaning against multiple pillows stacked atop one another as he climbed into an upright position. The moment of thought was long and tenuous, furthered by a slither of consciousness that remained in the cage of his creature, asleep.

"Luka."

The name was a match and the match was struck; flame flickering within, soft and warm until it licked a forest for flame turned into fire.

"Luka? Luka," the boy turned to his sides and felt his muscles burn and pull. Something was broken. "Lyra? Are you there?"

She wasn't. Io could not feel her presence, nor could he hear her voice in his head. A sweeping of his gaze across the curtains drawn registered flagged stone floors, a high ceiling—dome-shaped—and a vague inability to feel his limbs. He peered under the covers and lifted his shirt.

Bandages.

There was nothing attached to his arms or hands, which he assumed to be a sign of comfort at the very least. He must be in the infirmary then. That, or part of the campus. Perhaps some other practice hall that doubled up as a temporary infirmary.

He reached out to draw the curtains, stretching a little only to find that it hurt to do so and that his bed was an inch too far (or his arm an inch too short). The time of the day remained mostly unknown to Io and although his lack of knowledge surfaced as his primary concern, the urge to act upon any wandering will stirred within.

An envelope.

Placed strategically beside his pillow, it distracted thoughts and reined in desires for movement and action. A closer look confirmed that it was a letter addressed to him.

Iolani Tori

The instance seemed to him particularly dreamy; so much so that Io even briefly convinced himself that this was all part of the afterlife. Regardless, bottled curiosity was never good—even for the dead, it wasn't—and it compelled the opening of the letter.

__________________________

Dear Io,

          Ma hasn't heard from you in a long time until now. Good that you are healthy. You must eat your vegetables and rice if not you will not grow tall and strong. Your friend Luka said you didn't grow taller, so that is why I am asking you to eat your vegetables and rice. Uncle Rick gave us more sunflower seeds and Aunt Chelsea has went to the city to work.

          Pa only comes home at night, when dinner is ready. He and Chief Maun spend their time in the woods together with other groups but don't worry, Ma is taking care of the fields and the garden. We always have potatoes. This season, they are sweet. You must call your friend over when you are back. Don't waste the potatoes.

          You said you and Luka are going to do dangerous things? What did I tell you about dangerous things Iolani? You must not do them. When is the danger over? You must come home.

Love,

Ma

Luka: I am happy Io has grown 0.3. Please make him eat his vegetables and rice and grow taller. He is so skinny, I am scared that the wind will blow him away. Thank you for being a good friend to Io. He's always alone.

____________________________

Io set the letter aside and peered over the side of his bed in search for a pair of indoor slippers. There were none.

"Mrs. Goldfinch?"

His voice was not loud enough to echo in the space above, unable to reach, even, beyond the curtains that were drawn. The sparrow sighed, gathering all his strength to lift himself out of bed and onto the floor. Barefoot, he tested the waters by taking tentative steps about his bed, holding on to the portable table for support as he did so.

"Mrs. Goldfinch?" He repeated, projecting his voice more than before. He held aside several curtain folds and surveyed what lay beyond.

A single bed, unkept and unmade was placed beside his and separated by the curtain that he'd drawn aside. To its left, stuck to the wall behind the headboard, was the patient's name and medical details, which upon Io's reading stirred panic in his cage.

"Luka? Luka, are you there?" He drew aside every curtain and saw that the other beds were empty as well; the only difference being that they were all neat and made.

At once, the worst of thoughts filled his mind like a flood and because a dam was never present, Io felt the brunt of its force hit him like a truck. He called for help; made as much noise as he could whilst limping towards the head nurse's office at the back of the infirmary, brushing aside the sharp pain in his feet and the dull ache in his back.

To his relief, Mrs. Goldfinch emerged from her office with a disgruntled expression, a tray of sterile instruments in one hand and a jug of water in another. "You're the worst patient I've ever had! Always making so much noise whenever you wake—oh it happened the previous time as well, didn't it?"

"Mrs. Goldfinch, Mrs. Goldfinch! Luka. Where is he? He's not in his bed," the sparrow tossed the head nurse's comments out of the window and rattled on, breathless. "You think something happened? Do you know where he is?"

"I would most certainly tell you if I knew where that silly eagle boy ran off to!" Goldfinch snapped, setting the jug of water down before ushering Io back to his bed. "Probably gone out for a walk, I'd say. They're always going out for walks with thirty stitches up their leg, huh? Obsessed with walking, these—"

Io turned on his heel, heading for the double doors of the infirmary and then he was outside in a moment, leaving behind indignant protests of the head nurse as she chased after a limping sparrow, whose legs were miraculously faster than hers.

What he left behind stilled to a silence—its essence blanching the colour of a dream, unseen.

He couldn't seem to hear the whisper of the world that existed beyond the realm of his cage, his being. All that encompassed his field of vision was a sight that soothed the creature within and would at once rebuild what was ruined and lost.

He was looking at Luka.

The open corridor housed him and his Avians, perched on a ledge that looked over the west grounds. Below them, the field scorched a heated gold in the setting sun, blinding eyes that were, once, blind already. They opened.

He cried as he ran into the arms of his eagle friend—one in a cast and the other, limp against his side—unable to say his name for the weight of it all crushed his shoulders small. Victoria and Papercrane flew to the opposite ledge in response, providing the pair the space they needed to breathe.

They did; breathing, taking in the presence of one another, warm and slow. There came a moment where the beat of the creature's wings within

Io picked and gathered the fruits of his knowledge that were now ripe and ready, raising his gaze to meet his friend's. Strange fruits. Oddly-shaped. "I have so much to tell you."

Luka stilled.

He had been so afraid. Afraid that he would lose the one he so missed; lose the light that never left his side, the one he so adored and admired. Speaking to him—to speak, to converse and exchange beyond that of thoughts and words as every exchange with Iolani Tori was to him—never crossed a mind that was set in brick and stone, affixed on his fall.

Luka had assumed the privilege lost upon his very choice to leave behind his humanity, but now that Io had proven his conjectures (yet, again) wrong, he felt the joy of a bird held captive by something it had long been captivated by.

"I missed you."

The bars of his cage were taken apart with those words; softening as it caved and releasing the very creature that Io had tried so hard to restrain. He let it peer into the darkness beyond.

"I missed you too. I didn't see you at all, back then. Nothing went the way it did, not even the dream, it didn't—now that you're here, even the dream was not what I thought it to be so what is it, then? Are you, really, here? I was so scared, Luka. I was so afraid that I couldn't change what I'd seen, in the end. I didn't want to lose you—I was so scared of losing you but are you really, really—" He felt as though the world was narrow for once; the boy was flying low and his heights were not as great, vision not as elevated from before and yet

"I'm here."

The whisper of the wind did well to amplify those words, weighted and heavy with meaning.

"I'm here."

Saying it twice made it seem all the more surreal and otherworldly than before but Io held on the sleeves of Luka's shirt, afraid that he would wake from this—a dream—if he were to let go.

"I'm sorry for what I did," the latter raised, leaning down to pry the other's hands away from his face, tear-stained.

"What did you do?"

"Don't hate me."

Iolani Tori did not expect those words to belong in a conversation between him and his eagle friend; to be uttered without a second thought, as though it had been at the forefront of his mind for more than an eternity.

He observed the conflict between the creature and its cage; unable to come up with a reasoned response. "Hate is a strong word, Luka. I don't quite know if I can kill an emotion of mine should it come searching, but what I do know is that you will remain, as you already are...important to me."

The answer did not differ vastly from what he had expected his friend to say. It was characteristic of Io to acknowledge the power of emotion and its importance, yet understand how that was independent of his love.

"I think I've..." the eagle found that he was circling the hole of abyss embedded in his cage, tentative and fearful. "I think I've become...less human."

The sparrow fixed his gaze on the cracked lips of his companion, drawn thin and nervous. The presence of a snowy owl perched on the ledge beside Victoria was, all of a sudden, explained and accounted for.

"Please go on."

"I did it," he said in a lowered voice that lacked its usual indifference. "I followed your trail but by the time I...he was dead, already—I searched for you until the sun had set but Reux had me and I was so close. So close to breaking our promise so I..."

His words were barely audible, tumbling past his lips and falling into abyss. "I ate the thing in his cage."

The eagle's guilt and grief were reflected in the eyes of his friend, sharing that of his own as they, together, filled what was red and empty. "Luka, I'm so sorry—I'm so sorry you had to...it was because of me that you had to. It was never supposed to happen."

The pain was unlike anything they've ever felt; an amassing of arrows, blunt and wet from the flesh that they have pierced and skin that they have torn.

Each held on to the other as they wept, raw and undone by the weapons of the world.

Io raised his fist and pounded carelessly on the bars of the eagle's cage, listening to the roar of the creature within. "If only you didn't have to keep our promise! If only you weren't so loyal—so human, so BLINDLY IN LOVE WITH SOMETHING LIKE ME!"

He cried so hard that his world began to collapse, as though it had somehow arrived at its end. The sky above thundered and shook; tears from above, falling cold and fast.

"I'm sorry." Luka pulled his companion close, a mess. "I'm so sorry."

The sparrow could not contain an apology. It was too much of a tragedy for him to go on with the conversation, one that so hard for him to carry on his back; carry on.

"I couldn't leave you alone."

They held onto one another, afraid to let go.

"I couldn't leave you behind and make you more alone than you already were."

They sunk to the bottom of the ocean, having crashed in the sky and fallen into the sea.

"I couldn't have left you alone."

__________________________

The cold surface of the tag that rested against his heart read 'Kupera', laid bare without a darkness to shroud its truth. The owner was chained to a wall, feet barely touching the flagged stone floor of the dungeon, lit only by torches that flickered every now and then upon his grimy face, scarred.

"You are an utter disgrace to the Order," seethed the headmaster, spit landing on the shrike's bare chest. "To think that I supported you, a Hunter! And gave you a place, I," he breathed a flame that was quiet. "You ungrateful little f—"

"Headmaster Kirill."

The phoenix stared at the whites of his eyes, wide and streaked with a furious red. "Your anger is pointless and without purpose. There are better things to direct your attention towards."

Vaughn watched from a distance, unable to conceive the heated embers that sparked into flames at every glance of the shrike. Instead, he'd fixed his gaze upon the rest of the dungeon and the figures that stood before him.

The air was taut and sharp, desperate for answers yet blunted by the weight of hatred and emotion. It was hard to tear the two apart.

"How many did you kill—how many did you eat?" The question was posed but Reux remained in control, enjoying the power in his silence. He was prompted once more. "Answer the question."

"Sure. Only," the shrike raised his head, a sheen of sweat across his face that displayed no weakness. "After I see Iolani Tori." 

_________________________

A/N: Sorry it's a little late!! Had to re-write some parts because I just wasn't satisfied with it. Emotional chapter, yes. Oh! And we reached a 100k reads for the second book of FS! Hehe. So grateful to you Stars ;u; just so grateful. Also, looking through the comment section of the contest was incredibly amusing and simply impressive. I'm so glad that most of you voiced as much as you could, hehe. I'll be replying to every single one and collating the points soon so (if you care about my response to your interpretations) so look out for my replies to your comments!! 

See you on Sunday! ^^

-Cuppiecake