I hear—

Dark, lovely cries.

I see—

It's pained beautiful eyes.

I smell—

Fear so sweet it melts

Like a person in a dream

Yes, that is—

The sound of a scream.

__________________________

Io had a dream.

But like many other dreams, he had long forgotten what it was. Naturally, he paid little attention to it; since even if he did, there was nothing he could do about a forgotten tune.

There was an inkling, however.

It told him that the dream was about something he'd see today—

Today, in the Season games.

Lyra hovered close by as the boy made his way to the east grounds before dawn; his friend Pipa in tow.

"Have you got your Mark of Prey?" The canary asked, checking her drawstring pouch for the third time since they left their dormitories.

"I even brought some gum to keep my mouth busy," Pipa laughed sheepishly as she voiced to no one in particular, "I might speak accidentally you see, and remember they said no talking? I think that's the biggest challenge for me already—"

Io poked his friend's shoulder.

"You'll be fine—and yes, I've got my charm. Let's just stick together, okay? Nothing will go wrong then. Besides two minds are/is always better than one," The sparrow piped confidently, the rustle of crisp grass beneath his feet as they started towards the entrance of the woods.

Pipa's Avian chirped.

There seemed to be a response to that sound—somewhere far away.

It sounded like hope; had hope been able to speak.

But hope, like most things;

Could be crushed.

Io and Pipa knew that they shouldn't have any expectations for this silly game; and neither should they hold any hopes too high for fear that it'd be—

There was a wall.

It was hidden behind the trees but soon came clear to the sparrow and his companion that it wasn't something that anyone could climb over that easily.

Io wondered whether there was a sort of barrier preventing anyone from flying over it.

The wall stretched across for miles—neither of them could see the end.

"Is this...the Box? The one Professor Faustes was talking about?" Pipa recalled, careful to use the predator's title for fear that they were overheard by any predator nearby. After all, they had spotted quite a couple of other participants on their way to the entrance.

Io didn't know whether he should nod or disagree. He personally had similar sentiments—but his assumptions were often wrong anyway.

He gave a light shrug and tentative smile. "I'm not the best person to ask, but looks like it!"

"It's huge, I wasn't expecting it to...really be a box," Pipa stroked the top of her Avian's head, trying her best to calm herself. She had a smile on her face, as usual—but Io could tell that it was a smile that hurt.

They soon came across a sign.

Peering closer, Io felt reassured that Predators and Prey were being separated before the game. The sparrow and canary followed the direction of the arrow labeled 'Marks', pointing them towards the left.

The air was a quiet mist that had yet to wake; as if it was not the Sun's to make.

Dawn was approaching, and so was the start of the end—but neither Io nor Pipa knew the troubles they would have to fend.

They met another prey along the way—it was the blue jay who had attended the briefing with the two of them. She recalled that she had forgotten to introduce herself, and dropped her name without asking for theirs.

"My names Catherina, but Rina's fine. Oh yeah, I heard from my senior that you should watch out for the 'Hearts'. We're spades, right? Well I heard that predators with hearts are the fastest...or strongest. Something like that."

It was a fine warning; something that Io and Pipa were glad to hear but of course not just before the start of the game.

Pipa was already picturing the worst-case scenario—but no. She erased it before it could poison her heart.

This wasn't the time to be down.

"Hello. All Marks?" It was Miss Tenner—Pipa and Io's homeroom teacher. She met them with a smile as the three nodded quickly. "Alright, I need you to show me your charms one by one so that I can identify you by your number, is that okay?"

She flashed a not-so-discreet thumbs up in the general direction of her students.

When Io presented his black choker with the glass charm attached to it, he wasn't surprised. Not when he noticed Miss Tenner's pupils constrict with an unnatural fear.

He, too—

Was afraid.

But then again, he, too—

Was curious.

___________________________

"Iolani Tori, this is Harper. She will be bringing you to your starting point," Miss Tenner introduced briefly as she ushered the sparrow towards a girl who seemed very uninterested in her surroundings.

She was quite pretty, however.

But Io hadn't the time to notice the pin-straight ebony hair that framed her heart-shaped face or the jade-like eyes that stared into space; he realized that she was bringing him to his starting point.

"W-Wait," He paused with a stammer, turning around to see that Miss Tenner hadn't the time to pay any attention to his queries. "You'll be taking me to my starting point?"

The sparrow glanced behind, meeting eyes with Pipa's anxious gaze. She appeared to be asking Miss Tenner where her friend was going.

And why she wasn't allowed to follow.

"Problem?" Harper raised a brow, tone flat.

"Why are we separated? Don't we all have the same starting point? What's the purpose of—"

"Joker right?" The dark-haired girl cut bluntly, signaling the sparrow to follow her. "Your number's the Joker, right?"

Io blinked, thrown off by her interruption. "Um, yes."

"Then you know your role," Harper said, making it sound more like a statement than a question with her boring tone.

"Um, yes...?"

"Then I don't need to explain, do I?" She snapped next.

Io doubled back with a freeze. "Uh. Yes...?"

"But—"

Harper turned around with a glare.

"But, I mean...does everyone have a different starting point...?" He asked in a tentative manner, curiosity craving as he smiled apologetically. He couldn't resist. "So sorry."

The girl snapped her fingers between Io's eyes to stop him from looking back time and again, checking to see whether Pipa was behind.

She was not.

"There are three starting points—6 Marks assigned to A, 6 Marks assigned to B; and then there's you, the Joker—to C. A similar system is applied to the Predators, but you don't need to know any more than that," Harper commented stiffly.

Io didn't want to offend anyone unnecessarily even before the start of the game; but he was so, so curious. Why did they not need to know more than that?

Would it be an advantage?

Or a disadvantage?

"Why—"

"Shut up, gosh. Just because I'm not an enemy doesn't mean I don't feel like your throat could do with a slit."

The sparrow swallowed his questions, voice faltering. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, sure. Just to be clear—even though we're both prey, I'm a third tier so you're not allowed to disrespect me," Harper glanced at Lyra that perched on Io's shoulder. "You're just a sparrow."

Io didn't dare to say anything to that. He didn't think that the stratification crossed lines—delving even among the Marks themselves.

Lyra sniffed irritably, glaring at the girl as she told her Winged not to pay heed to such unsociable humans.

The pair approached a portion of the wall that seemed almost cut-out and replaced with a stone gate that rose—at least fifty feet above the ground, leveling itself with the wall that stretched far.

The boy assumed that this was going to be his starting point.

He was correct.

"This is your starting point," Harper mumbled as she gestured to the stone slab. "The gate will unlock itself when first light shines upon it. Since we're facing the east, it should open at the same time. If it doesn't, the predators might...have an early start—but you don't really need to care. Your starting point is the furthest from theirs."

In all honestly, Io didn't see why he wasn't required to care.

After all, that would mean that his friends would be in danger—and he didn't want that at all.

The girl's lips were drawn into a thin line as she handed a canvas bag to the anxious-looking participant. "These are your amenities. Biscuits enough to last you for...about a week, and a filled water canteen. Once you're out, search for a river or lake—that's all that I can tell you."

"We'll wait for dawn," And with that, Harper acted like a robot that had done her job—and feeling no need to waste an ounce of energy, retreated to sleep mode.

The sparrow and his Avian waited quietly in front of the gate that stretched high above their heads, blocking the sky.

Io felt a little disheartened at that; after all, the limitless sky was the only thing that connected his heart to home.

But the color of the sky behind was beginning to change.

A creeping light absorbed the cloak of darkness—washing away the remains of night.

First light was approaching; clearing the mist that swirled amongst the east grounds with a vengeance and igniting the hearts of hopeful prey and hungry predators.

With light from the rising sun, Io noticed something carved on the stone gate that marked his starting point.

"Symbols...?" He wondered out loud, curious what they could mean. Io assumed it was something written in another language.

Harper glanced disapprovingly at the sparrow who spoke. Lyra jumped.

"It means 'fly'—now put on your Mark of Prey," She snapped soon after, as if implying that Io was not paying attention to the matter at hand. "It's almost time."

"Oh. Thank you," He nodded carefully, fishing the black choker out of his back pocket and wearing it skillfully—thanks to Pipa's thoughtful guidance.

Io stared at a single spot on the stone gate, fastening the chain of the choker so that it fit perfectly.

He realized that there was another set of symbols engraved on the bottom of the circular slab in the middle—

"You're up. The light's coming," It wasn't the time for questions; no matter how much he desired answers.

The boy tightened his hold on the strap of the canvas bag containing his needs.

But perhaps what he really needed now was something called bravery—

The rays of the rising sun ate upon the top of the gate, nibbling its way downwards till it reached the center of the circle.

Something clicked, almost like a lock.

Then the circular slab in the middle started to turn—'fly' rolling out of the way and vanishing from the sparrow's mind, replaced by the other set of symbols that Io had been dying to ask about.

The gate cracked at the turn of its lock, sliding open slowly to reveal the remains of morning mist and the most ugly; frightful forest bearing over his small frame.

Io stepped in.

He turned around; Harper was nowhere in sight.

Lyra said she wasn't feeling too well.

But Io stepped in.

He stepped in—

With the ghost of his question lingering behind his wall of reason.

What did those symbols...

Little did Io know

That the answer was laid out before his very eyes.

That perhaps, he had seen it before;

And that perhaps,

It had never been too far out of his reach.

What else rhymed with fly?

Alas;

To think it was—

Die.

____________________________

Luka understood that this was never an easy win for a first-timer like himself.

Neither did he really expect himself to win from the very start—for besides it being no simple task, it would draw attention to himself.

Unnecessary attention from the vultures themselves.

Eyes were upon him—the headmistress had put him in the game so suddenly; almost like a test subject, that Luka was beginning to think there were other motives she had in mind.

Something that perhaps involved using her son to crush his hopes of winning; to put him in his place; to show them what the strongest were like—that it was them, indeed...

But Luka had to stop thinking.

The more he sought answers, the more he'd fall into their trap.

And so he shut his heart and mind altogether, locking them behind doors.

___________________________

The uncanny silence drilled a hole in Io's mind, piercing and anxious—keeping the sparrow at full attention that he jumped at the mere sound of broken branches underneath his feet.

It was draining; just a couple of minutes into the game and Io was feeling tired from the constant stimulation that kept him alert.

He had asked Lyra to scout a little ahead, in the direction of the other starting points to check whether they were still there.

She couldn't see a thing. The starting point was way too far for her to make out a single silhouette.

The boy made a quick decision to move in a general ten o'clock direction—ensuring progress towards the exit which he hoped was somewhere straight ahead whilst hoping to find and meet up with a friendly companion along the way.

He knew Pipa was probably thinking the same thing, but he wondered if she'd follow the rest in a group of six instead and try to convince them to search for him too.

That was when he remembered that Pipa didn't know he was the Joker.

Anyone would be in danger if they joined him at this point—

And he couldn't allow that.

There was no need to drag someone else into the horrible state he was in;

And so the boy decided that perhaps he was meant...

To be alone all along.

_______________________________

To Vaughn who had been playing—and winning—this game for the years he had spent so far in Flight School, singling out the Joker wasn't hard at all.

It seemed obvious to him from the very start that prey who clutched the charms attached to their chokers and refused to let go, were the Jokers.

Those who would run and hold onto their charms, not allowing the one chasing them to see their number.

Those who, despite being cornered, would shake their heads with determination.

He didn't even need to see their charm.

He already knew who they were.

And so as he perched hidden among the canopy of trees in his Avian form, spotting a girl who was running away from a falcon that was gaining on her—charm snug in the palm of her hand as though it was her heart itself—he smirked.

Then he took off to corner her.

______________________________

The mist was beginning to fade, and Io noted quickly that this would serve as a double-edged sword—for it would be easier for him to see oncoming predators, but for them to spot him too.

For some reason, his footsteps were lethargic. No matter how hard he tried to avoid stray branches and dried leaves, the boy was no good at coming across as a silent prey.

Lyra warned stiffly that he'd never make it without being caught in the next hour if he continued to move in such a clumsy manner.

She was right—to some extent. It wasn't long before Io reached a clearing; that, to his confusion, had something like a streetlight erected in the very middle of it.

The sparrow drew closer—

Wait, stop. Lyra's voice was urgent and almost fearful. She hovered behind; wary.

Go back.

"Wh—" Io almost voiced his reply out loud, before remembering the rules of the game. They were not allowed to speak. Why? He asked in his mind, backing away from the clearing and darting behind a tree nearby.

His Avian said that something was coming.

Something snapped behind the tree.

Io crouched low, hand to his mouth to cut off fear that rose in a scream.

Footsteps—close, but not entirely.

The bark of the tree separated Io from the stranger, refraining either of them from seeing the other.

There wasn't the beat of an Avian's wings, and the sparrow glanced up to check if it was hiding above with a bird's eye view.

It wasn't there.

His heart retreated in relief, close from bursting out of its cage.

The stranger stepped into the clearing, revealing his back to Io.

He was a petite-looking male, canvas bag over his shoulder as he made his way to the streetlight with a slouch.

A mess of brown hair completed with black highlights tangled in his fingers as he ran them through in distress.

The boy let out a tired sigh.

From afar, Io assumed it was someone one or two years older than he was. They weren't tall or well-built in the least.

Small and quite skinny indeed.

Lyra pointed out that it wasn't the time to size up others, and that he was merely describing how weaklings looked.

The sparrow pouted.

Either way, both Avian and Winged were plagued with a strange certainty that the male in the clearing was a perfectly harmless Mark; and so they decided to make a friend.

After all, it was always better to have an extra ally and one less enemy—

Or perhaps not.

Io rose from his crouching position, straightening up and taking a single step towards the clearing.

That was when the stranger's Avian came into his line of sight.

The barn owl swooped from above the canopy of trees, making an eerie appearance with a graceful and soundless landing on top of the streetlight.

It perched, as if it belonged there.

The sparrow and his Avian froze.

The other pair had, by the looks of their backs against them, yet to notice Io and Lyra's presence.

But that was before he heard an uncanny crack that sounded like it was coming from the clearing ahead—as if someone had broken their back.

Io could feel his balance beginning to fail him.

The awkward position he was in before he realized that the stranger ahead was a fully-fledged predator—a Nocturne, in fact—and not a Mark, gave him the least possibility of staying still without losing his balance.

There was another crack; louder, this time.

Io noticed that the boy's head was turning.

His head was turning—and it did not stop.

It turned; and turned—

And it turned in such a strange angle that Io was sure no human head could possibly turn—

But that was what owls did;

And suddenly the boy and his Avian found themselves paralyzed with eyes that were large, rounded; amber irises that left little whites for eyes; and slit-like pupils that allowed little light to enter.

They stared right through the windows of his soul and caught it by its neck in a vice-like grip.

The barn owl smiled, from ear to ear.

Io couldn't breathe.

Lyra didn't need to tell her Winged what to do because the darkness that swallowed his heart was beginning to make him understand what death felt like.

The sparrow turned on his heel—taking off in the opposite direction with a sprint of a deer being chased by a wolf.

Something was following.

He could hear them behind—

The rustling of leaves and the dead crunch of broken branches littered over the floor

Someone was chasing him.

Lyra screamed for Io not to look back because when she did there was a silence that was gaining on them for the wings of an owl made no sound—

The predator was fast despite his small frame; eyes bright and pupils slightly more dilated from before as if he had caught the scent of victory—

A dead sprint didn't seem enough to save Io or his Avian as his bag filled with biscuits and water weighed on his legs and clipped his non-existent wings.

He wove amongst the trees and pushed past undergrowth that clung to the legs of his pants as if the forest wanted him for itself—

Io looked behind—

He shouldn't have.

The force of the push knocked him off his feet and the boy fell to the ground, his vision going blank for a moment before the only thing he could see and feel were a pair of delighted amber eyes and a crushing weight on his stomach.

He heard Lyra's cry as the predator's Avian forced her to the ground, strangling her between its talons.

Io reached instinctively for the glass charm that indicated his role—

The predator slapped his hand aside, eyes searching for the number that matched the one on his neck; the seven of clubs.

But no;

It was a blank card he saw.

The blank charm—the mark of a Joker.

Blood drained from the owl's face.

There was a screech in the distance—one that brought about a fog of fear even in the hearts of predators.

The owl released his hold on Io in an instant, scrambling upright as though he had touched something searing hot. His pupils were terrified slits that darted around, searching for an oncoming presence.

The air was silent; pegged with an unfeeling stillness—

Then something fell from above. 

______________________________

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I seriously can't wait to write the next /.\ hehe I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. Thank you for reading!! ^0^// I'm so pleased to read your comments that Io's curiosity made him cute =v= I think so too. 

But really;

Curiosity killed the cat.

-Cuppiecake. 

P.S It's okay, Io's not a cat. X'D