Night—

Flight.

_______________________

Luka was used to the darkness of the night; he feels it all in the heart of flight.

Luka was awake in the darkness of the night; searching for something under—the dead moonlight.

But Luka was curious in the darkness of the night;

For he had seen a strange flame ignite.

The fire danced—its glow weak from afar. A small flame it was. Perhaps produced by a matchstick or a lighter.

Victoria caught the slithering smoke that rose above the trees and warned her Winged of the things that it might bring.

The golden eagle advanced, a mere instinct that followed the draw of the flame. The smell of dead leaves burnt and charred choked his lungs as he neared the light, stepping and putting it—out of sight.

He understood from the scene, a certain scuffle had occurred. Someone on a trail, trapping and cornering. There were prints before the entrance of the tent, his sharp eyes recognizing the marks of an owl's talons and his master, a human's footprints not far away.

Broken branches lay strewn across the forest floor, cracked under the pressure of a fleeing prey; or so he had assumed.

Luka parted the flaps of the tent and a familiar scent hit his heart—sharpening his senses as if he had never felt that thrill of being alive.

The sparrow.

He was here?

Did he run...?

The golden eagle straightened up, keen eyes searching beyond the trees.

Nothing.

There was no sign of movement.

He closed his eyes—mind focused on his hearing.

Luka didn't like to rely on his ears. They weren't his greatest asset, per se.

His eyes had always been the better of the two.

But when it came down to this time of the day, or night—rather, he figured that he might have to rely on both as much as possible. But it wasn't as simple as it sounded.

Humans often get distracted by what they see, which tampers with their perception unconsciously and prevents them from using the rest of their senses to the best of their abilities. Luka thought that it didn't just apply to their five senses; but their sense of judgment as well.

The floating island was quiet;

Or perhaps it was simply the world inside the Box that was.

As if the rest of it should be abandoned at this point of time.

Victoria scouted above the trees, keeping watch for any sign of movement whilst her Winged stood his ground—

His eyes snapped open.

There had been a sound that caught his attention; rousing it from caged slumber to raise a curious head.

He had heard a voice and it was speaking in hushed tones as if it was the wind carrying a secret in its whisper—

And Luka couldn't disagree.

For it was a secret indeed—

But he heard it.

He had heard someone's thoughts, and they piqued his interest very much.

The speed at which he called upon Victoria's aid to take on the form of his Avian proved that an understatement, however. He soared above the trees that passed in a blur—towards the direction of the voice, seeking its precious owner.

Luka wasn't just interested—

He was...enthralled;

For he had heard a voice say:

"—doesn't know that I'm the Joker."

It was ironic; and that made the golden eagle want to smile.

For someone did know—

And that was him.

____________________________

The eagle's call sounded like it was a hallucination—as if Io was in a dream and something had come to wake him from it.

Was this a nightmare? He wondered, but didn't get to an answer. His mind was blank; blank from the lack of oxygen that couldn't seem to reach him brain.

And so the disoriented sparrow was slightly pleased, but also slightly confused when he heard a dull 'thump' coming from behind—puzzled as to why he could think once again.

This was before he realized he could breathe; and also before a shadow stepped into his field of vision.

Io couldn't see a thing.

He couldn't tell what the shadow was; whether it was human or something curious from the Box itself.

The shadow rose above his fallen frame, a dark blur as he tried to sit up. His head spun.

The boy reached for his charm, confirming that it was still there with a relieved sigh before groping around for his bag.

He swallowed, throat parched and burning as though it was the desert itself.

Io felt faint—and he couldn't help but wonder if he was suffering from the symptoms of dehydration.

Would I die if I run again? He wondered, for the sparrow was planning to make another break while there was nothing holding him back.

The dull sound of knuckles hitting flesh could be heard; the rustling of grass as one—no, two people struggled without a word.

The more Io sought to think about the scene before his eyes the more it sought to confuse him. He could make out two silhouettes in the dark, the trees looming above making it hard.

But he could.

There were two predators—one of them the grey owl that held him down earlier, and the other...

The other...?

Who was he?

Io couldn't make out his face, but the owl's screech of pain told him that the talons of the stranger's Avian could draw blood in a matter of seconds.

The sparrow found his bag somewhere among the undergrowth and he grabbed it, taking off in the opposite direction with no clue where he was going.

It was strange how he'd been so many opportunities to run.

Perhaps Nocturnes were well known for getting distracted among themselves?

Io wondered whether it was something funny he should laugh at.

Lyra did her best to guide him, sometimes leaving it up to her Winged for she herself was at a disadvantage in the night.

But there was absolutely no way Io could find his way back to the rest point he was at before—and the chances of him finding another point was so slim he could barely see it anywhere in his pool of bad luck.

The boy realized that all he could do, really, was to run.

Io turned to glance behind in attempt to confirm the distance he had created and whether either of them had bothered to give chase.

Yes! No one—

He ran into something.

It was hard and Io staggered backwards having ran at full speed without noticing something in his path.

He tried to recover fast, for fear that one of the Nocturnes had heard the cry he couldn't stop from slipping past his lips.

When Io looked ahead, he saw a pair of eyes staring right back at him.

Large, glowing eyes.

It took him this to realize that it was a human he had run into; and it wasn't just any human, they were the eyes of a Nocturne he'd seen before.

The barn owl he had met in the morning.

Io didn't have the time to think how such a petite body could pack such a resistant force—whether he was really a human or a small rock;

He made a break for the left while Lyra deliberately flew into Mauri's face, holding him back for a precious second before she was hit hard by the back of his hand.

The strangled cry of pain at the back of Io's mind made him feel sick. It was as if he was hurt from the blow too.

Overhanging branches clung to his blazer; undergrowth scratching and tearing at the ankles of his pants as the boy sprinted as fast as his heavy legs could go. The Mark felt a stinging pain across the side of his cheek, bringing his hand up to touch it briefly—only to see red on his fingers.

He thought about the two—no, three predators he'd encountered in the last five minutes, and a whole new shiver tickled the nape of his neck.

He couldn't stop now.

Funny;

Is it me? Or is the ground sloping downwards?

Io was trembling; his fingers shaking as though they had forgotten the chill of the night; mind racing incredibly fast as though there was never a time it bothered to do so; heart—flying, its wings beating an exhilaration.

It is. The ground's sloping downwards.

The sparrow found it strange that he could see what was up ahead—he quickly inferred that it must be a clearing for there shouldn't be any other place that the moon could see, casting a veil of its light upon what it did.

He didn't know whether it was good news; what he did know, however, was that the barn owl was somewhere behind.

Io could hear it screeching, calling—and an inevitable panic began to eat at his heart.

What was it calling for?

Claiming its territory? A warning for others to back off? Or—

Or was it calling for others to come?

The last thought made Io shut his mind in a violent manner, stuffing them back into their cage and locking them in a safe place. He didn't want to think about something worse when he was already in a situation bad enough.

Without chancing another look back—he had enough of that—the sparrow neared the end of the dense trees, only to find that it wasn't a clearing up ahead.

To Io, it seemed like the edge of the forest; trees stopping at a bow to make way for the only majesty above who reigned the skies with its light. It showed the sparrow his path ahead.

The ground underneath his feet had turned into stone, leaving grass and soil behind as if it detested the undergrowth that weeded itself upon them; the path extended itself across a wide area, sloping downwards into a flowing river that reflected the light of the moon.

Beyond that—yet another forest loomed ahead with a barring condescendence.

This took Io a second to scan and he realized that the surrounding area was a steep drop where the rock had decided to end. Right ahead, however, he could make it to the river...

He braced himself for the uneven footing, but—

Just when the sparrow thought that he was alone under the guidance of the moon, he heard a call.

An eagle's call;

The same one from before.

Io began to wonder if this one, too, was a hallucination of some sort—surfacing only when desperation seeped into his heart. But he soon realized that it was not, for the swiftness of the wind picked up from behind as a shadowed bird caught up with the boy in a matter of seconds.

The golden eagle was silent, wingspan blocking the majority of his vision.

It hovered before his eyes as the beat of its wings produced gust after gust of strong wind—

Then it made a grab at Io's bag.

The sparrow expected this in the least; for it was loosely slung over his shoulder and clutched in his arms, held close to his chest during escapes.

Because he was not expecting it, the eagle stole it easily—talons digging into the canvas and yanking it away from Io.

He panicked, crying out as the Avian glided down towards the river at an unbelievable speed.

Io had to give chase.

Though he could hear something coming from behind; though he almost knew it was impossible to chase after an eagle—

Had he given up here, he'd just...

He'd die in here.

He'd die here, without food.

Here—

Alone.

There was no time to hesitate for Io sprinted down the rock with an almost forty-five degree decline, praying to whatever was above, there or not, there his balance would last.

He had come to a stop at the edge of it before he realized that the distance between the sharp end of the rock and the ground below where the river flowed was not as short as he expected it to be.

In fact, it was quite a jump.

But, strange—

The eagle was there, across the river; resting on an overhanging branch with Io's bag in its claws as if it was waiting for him.

What...?

Was it...lightening his load?

So that he could run faster—

No.

Why would it?

Io shook all questions out of his head as he jumped, Lyra following close behind, and landed on the grass below.

The impact hurt his ankles slightly, and the boy knew that if he'd break into a dead sprint once again, he would not last long—

That was all he could register before Io felt something on his right shoulder.

His eyes moved, registering a hand in his peripheral vision and Io almost screamed with a start.

It was a scare; that hand, but another came round to clamp his mouth shut before dragging him backwards.

What?

Oh God.

It's like being kidnapped in the movies.

I wonder if they actually plan it that way.

As the sparrow struggled in the hands of his captor, he saw the golden eagle drop his bag from its talons, leaving it at the edge of the next forest.

What is it doing?

Io was tired.

His throat burned from a raging thirst; legs ached from the number of sprints they broke into; mind exhausted from the mental pain and torture; his heart—its wings tired from beating furiously.

Is this where I give up?

It didn't take long for the sparrow's field of vision to change when the stranger behind spun him around to face the darkness of a small cave.

Without sight; Io could only focus on the rest of his senses.

All he could hear was his own heavy breathing, and the deafening beat of his heart.

He heard nothing from his captor; and felt nothing but the warmth of his or her hands over his mouth and shoulder.

Io also assumed that he must be pressed up against his body, for although it seemed hard as rock, was warm.

The corner of his eye caught some movement from outside.

He could barely see the river, but the spot he had been standing on after jumping from the edge of the rock was well in his peripheral vision, if he focused hard.

The sound of footsteps over grass could be heard before there was a screech of a barn owl.

Io's eyes widened, and he willed his heart to soften its beat, as if afraid that it would give out their position.

I wonder if either of them can hear how loud it is.

He tried hard to reduce his pants to a controlled breathing, minimizing any possible sound that might make the barn owl notice where he was.

.

But then; it appeared that something else had caught the Nocturne's attention.

It was the bag placed at the edge of the forest.

Mauri laughed at the sparrow's stupidity.

He had thought that the sparrow was clever enough to not leave his bag of survival needs behind just to lighten his load.

True, it posed as a difficulty when it came to running fast.

But to abandon it at such an obvious placement?

Mauri had to laugh.

And so he followed the sparrow into the next forest;

Determined to catch his first Joker.

__________________________________

He took the bait, was what Luka thought mockingly when Victoria told him that Mauri had gone into the forest. He made sure that she had scouted the rest of the area and confirmed that no one else was following them, then turned to the sparrow in his arms.

Io was breathing hard; he could hear and feel the flutter of his heart on his hand and felt strangely surprised that he had made it this far without losing his Mark of Prey.

Knowing that they didn't have much time before the great grey owl would come round after hearing Mauri's call, Luka knew that he had to make things quick.

The night wasn't in his favor.

After all, like Io—he was not a Nocturne.

The golden eagle slipped a water canteen out of his bag, showing it carefully to the smaller frame with his hand still clamped over the latter's lips.

Victoria had told him that the sparrow's bag was damp at the bottom, making a deduction that his bottle had cracked at some point—and Luka was left to infer that the Joker was dehydrated.

It was a trade-off; something that he had to make in order to ensure the outcome with least trouble.

An uncooperative Prey would do less benefit for him either way.

The Joker reached for the canteen and Luka caught the slight tremble in his fingers, but he reacted faster—holding it further away so that it was out of the other's reach.

The hand over the sparrow's mouth adjusted slightly, forming an index over his lips.

Io nodded silently, getting the message.

The Predator handed the canteen filled with water to the Prey, slightly relieved that he hadn't changed much since the last time they met.

Earnest eyes, Luka thought, grip over the sparrow's arm loosening.

Cool liquid soothed Io's parched throat, quenching the burning thirst that left him fatigued and drowsy.

Easy to tame...

With the canteen in his hand, the sparrow made a sudden break for the entrance, diving forward and ducking low—

Luka's response was slower than he expected it to be. He had let his guard down, after all, and was now forced to eat his own words as he grabbed the Prey by his arm and shoved him to the ground.

He's a little different from the time I met him on the train.

Perhaps he wasn't as docile as he thought he was after all.

Io winced in pain; but the eagle had not meant any harm. He was a little curious—as to why Io had dared to disobey him even though he had agreed to stay silent.

Oh.

That's right; he only agreed to stay silent.

Luka had to admit...this sparrow was quite sharp. Not really any ordinary tree sparrow he had come across time and again; but not exactly outstanding either.

The pair remained in a fairly difficult position, with the Predator leaning over a breathless Io to hold him in place while he was caught up in his own thoughts.

Better not let my guard down, Luka frowned, this one's clever, and a little too brave for my liking.

D-Did he just compliment me?

There was another voice in his thoughts—and it shook Luka out of it instantly, snapping his attention towards the sparrow underneath him.

Io was panting heavily, trying hard to catch his breath from before. The fact that the eagle had him pinned to the ground didn't help either.

Not only had this...insignificant Prey trespassed his territory (the precious treehouse that he didn't wish to share at all), he had also, coincidentally, invaded his Link with such ease.

That was it;

Luka was letting his guard down.

That had to be it.

Victoria apologized.

Ah, sorry. I let the sparrow in to ask her what was inside the bag. If it's just biscuits, then I figured we could leave it.

You let the sparrow in? Luka frowned. The Avian?

Yes. Like I said, it's not a big deal—

I'm quite sure that wasn't the Avian, the Predator warned stiffly, his eyes the shade of burning ember that drew many into their sparks.

He felt that it was his imagination, but the Joker was looking at him weirdly.

I don't make mistakes, Luka, Victoria insisted with a huff.

Her Winged didn't buy it.

Victoria came gliding through the entrance of the cave, Io's bag in her beak before she dropped it in a corner where the pair stayed hidden in the shadows.

_____________________________

Io realized he was staring.

He couldn't help it, the Predator's eyes were a rare shade of amber that reminded him of a warm fire back home. He also wondered whether amber eyes were common in some parts of the world—they were quite uncommon in his village—for Pipa also had amber eyes.

The boy was confused on many levels.

First, there was that voice he had heard; the low, pleasant one that sounded as if it was coming from the predator leaning over him but it couldn't be because they weren't supposed to speak.

It wasn't as if the predator's lips had moved either...unless he was a ventriloquist, but that was highly unlikely, so Io shoved that thought out of his mind.

The next was the fact that a Predator had bothered to hydrate him—that itself had been the last thing he'd expect, and yet Io couldn't bring himself to believe that this man meant well.

He was not wrong in that sense, for Luka was indeed doing all of this just to get the Joker's Mark of Prey.

But that didn't necessarily mean using violent or underhanded methods.

The last...was rather peculiar.

But Io thought that the eagle looked a little familiar.

Just a little.

Was it his hair?

Mm...but dark hair is common.

Or is it?

Ah, I can't make out the rest. It's dark.

But...I don't recall seeing those eyes either.

Just then, Io's thoughts were interrupted by another. This time, it was a sultry tone that belonged to a female. She apologized briefly for the holes in his bag—and that she had tried to minimize the damage by using her beak to carry it.

Oh...

It's the golden eagle from before.

That's his Avian? The sparrow glanced up at the dark-haired man. He appeared to be one or two years his senior.

Is it just my imagination or is he looking at me weirdly?

I wonder if he knows I'm still thirsty. Well, the canteen is in my hands but I can't drink from it if he's going to continue holding me down like this.

I'd...very much like it if he would release me now.

Also, I kind of want to ask how we're communicating without talking.

Maybe he's really a ventriloquist...but his Avian too?

How does he throw his voice around like that? I really want to ask.

Also—

Luka was going crazy just from listening to this boy's thoughts. He couldn't think of anything else but severing the Link between them that wasn't even supposed to happen.

You're saying 'also' too much! He thought, irked and slightly put off.

I wonder why I'm not that scared.

The last thought positively lasted in Luka's mind for more than a second; and his gaze on the Joker beneath him turned from slightly hostile to very, very confused.

He was beginning to rethink his options—whether it was worth dealing with curious creature.

The thought of taking his Mark of Prey and leaving him behind to care for himself didn't seem any less appealing than it was before to the realist. Coupled with the fact that the sparrow wasn't likely to make the most perfect Prey, the prospect was all the more inviting.

And yet;

Yet—

There was something that they shared about the night;

For Luka knew that the sparrow's scent was the exact same one he had picked up twice in the treehouse.

Io looked at him curiously.

He didn't notice the hand that snuck behind his neck when the Predator produced a filled drawstring pouch from his bag—he was too eager to know what was inside.

Luka placed the small pouch in the former's hands, and it fit perfectly.

Io sat up, eyes wide in uncontained excitement as he opened the pouch.

The eagle took this chance to unfasten the choker from his neck, and stow the Mark of Prey in his back pocket.

It wasn't a difficult task—just the sleight of hand aided by the sparrow's distracted mind as he failed to notice the missing glass charm that chilled his neck with its cool surface.

Io was pleased to find an assortment of fresh berries in the small pouch, hand-picked by Luka. The eagle didn't like berries (of course he didn't, he detested vegetables and fruits) but he had an inkling that they'd come in handy along the way.

Perhaps a little distraction; waiting for a harmless prey to take the bait.

Io was harmless—

And he was a Prey, indeed.

He didn't take the bait, however, not just yet.

Eyeing the berries with a cautious gaze, he leaned down to sniff carefully—almost like a wary kitten suspicious of new objects, but curious at the same time.

Io's lips were parted slightly, as if waiting for his thoughts to convert themselves into spoken questions; before he remembered that he was not supposed to speak. He closed his mouth—then opened it again.

Luka found this particularly amusing, for he had looked like a fish.

He didn't make that comment, though, merely kept it inside without a slip of a smile.

After all, he didn't like smiling.

He thought it showed weakness.

And here Io was; smiling away at no one in particular, glancing between the hand-picked berries and the amused predator.

Luka could hear the questions in the sparrow's mind.

They were all a little redundant, such as asking where he had picked them from, how he knew blue berries were good, whether he had taken any for himself—except the question asking whether they were poisonous, the rest were rather unnecessary.

To prove that they were not, the eagle picked a random berry and popped it casually into his mouth.

He chewed once, with an indifferent expression.

Io was clearly impressed; his eyes wide in awe as he tried to mimic Luka—tossing a blue berry up into the air but missing his mouth terribly.

He tried again.

And again.

He missed all three times, and picked the berry up from the ground to place it contently between his lips without doing the fancy trick. He was strangely satisfied...with such a small reward.

Luka had missed out a particular thought running prevalent in Io's mind; and that was the fact that Io knew his charm was missing.

He had simply pretended that he didn't.

The eagle was unable to hear that thought, as if the sparrow had willed his heart and mind into silence in order to keep this secret locked away.

After all, the Joker wanted to win—too.

It wasn't a bad trade;

The eagle provided protection while he would, as decided, loan him his Mark of Prey.

He simply had to find a time to take it back.

The strangest thing of it all was the trembling in Io's fingers.

From his shoulders to the small of his back, Io felt a shiver. He glanced down at his shaking hands, wondering if there was something wrong with him.

For he was not trembling in fear—

But in excitement.

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A/N: Yay! Me likes.

More to come :>

Picture above is a golden eagle! ARGH SO PRETTY I love birds.

I hope this book will make you come to appreciate them as well.

-Cuppiecake.