A/N: Hi guys! :D I''ll probably get back to updating every Friday/Thursday (depending where you are) very soon since I'm starting to get used to my college schedule (which is actually a MESS HAHAHA). Still, I'm not giving up on this because writing is really all that I have to reach out to you guys. 

Also, slight warning of fluff. This chapter has loads of it. Except when salty Vaughn comes in though, which makes things interesting anyway :> The build up for these chapters is going to be a little slow because I want to do a steady foundation before the next big installation of plot slams you in the face :> HUEHUEHUEHUE. Enjoy!

__________________________

He was flowing down the river, again.

The turn he made was slightly different this time and the boy found himself staring at a scene from above—as though he was in the sky and was watching something he knew she should not be seeing. He was watching himself.

The he in which he thought existed independently of himself (was that even possible to conceive?) was speaking to someone of a shape and the shape appeared like a cloudless shadow until it was first tall, and then formless again but for some odd reason, he recognized it.

He put a name to the form and suddenly it surfaced, clear as day.

Vaughn. Vaughn was speaking to him and then raising his voice the very next minute. How could he tell?

How did he know? And was he mad?

Vaughn was saying something in which he could not hear but it did not seem to be directed at the him—the other him that he was watching—but someone else. He did not register the identity of the other person but they seemed, somehow key to what he was about to find out.

Something serious. Something heavy and important, judging by the weight on his shoulders there were lifted by the current as soon as he felt its immense pressure.

He had been close to figuring out what it all was and what it all meant when he was back in the river.

Flowing up against the current.

__________________________

When Iolani Tori woke up from his dream, his arm was squished by something warm and unbelievably heavy and it kept the latter asleep despite the owner's fair awareness of his surroundings.

It took the boy a moment to recall his whereabouts and all that occurred the night before, albeit a rather strange and difficult thing to do given the awkward gap in his recollection. Probably the part where he fell asleep unintentionally, since his memory lacked the part where he got into the inflatable bed with his friend in the most terrible position he could imagine himself agreeing to.

"Luka?"

Io attempted to turn and face his friend who was holding him in his arms as though he was a bolster. His arm was numb from the pressure that the latter was unconsciously exerting even in his sleep, making Io wonder just how one could be strong without being awake.

He squirmed with the intention to wake, calling out the eagle's name once more. The sheer extent of Luka's strength (whether or not it was even close to what he had been hiding in that core of his) made it so that Io could not move an inch, and it was this very inability that resulted in the sparrow feeling exhausted after mere seconds of squirming.

"Luka! Wake up," he groaned, slightly miffed by the fact that he could not even escape the clutches of a sleeping friend. "Your arm. It's killing me!"

He received a brief response that consisted of something warm breathing down his neck which only served to increase his level of impatience in the wee hours of dawn. Luka was, very apparently, a heavy sleeper. That was not something he'd expected at all and although the fact did well to tick him off, Io found it strangely endearing.

Still.

His friend had him in a vice-like grip and Io was not found of being treated like an inanimate object, let alone a bolster.

Victoria? Victoria are you there? No she wasn't.

Good morning Io, Lyra hopped into view—head cocked as she took in the most awkwardly satisfying sight in her entire bird-life. Why, don't you two look...uncomfortable.

"Lyra!" His eyes lit up at the sight of his Avian. "Stop staring and help me out! Nip his ear," Io struggled to point in the general direction of where he assumed Luka's ear was. Up and above, well...that should do the trick.

*

Apart from having learnt that Luka was an incredibly heavy sleeper, Io discovered that mornings did not agree with the eagle in the slightest. Needless to say, banter along the topic of being diurnal ensued.

"I get your point, Luka—but you almost strangled me," protested the sparrow, folding him arms as they dragged themselves back to the predator dorms to wash up in Luka's room. So much for sharing an inflatable bed. Io swore he'd never sleep in a five-meter radius of his friend again.

"Your Avian nipped my ear," said friend put forth with a seeming tone of accusation, as though it was enough to explain how he'd nearly (on instinct) choked the nearest threat in a deadlock.

"That's because you wouldn't wake up!"

The eagle broke eye contact, unconsciously backing down from the challenge that his sparrow friend had somehow issued. Ironically so.

They had arrived at the front steps of the building in a matter of minutes and were about to enter the main lobby when Luka voiced an apology, admitting his mistake after a brief moment of silence. Io was surprised by the hint of a cross between a begrudging and somewhat guilty tone that had laced Luka's words and recovered only after a minute.

"I'm sorry too," he said with his hands behind his back. "I guess I should have thought of another way to wake you up...tickle you, maybe. The ear nip might have crossed the line."

Both apologies were not the kind that strangers would give to one another—a sincere, whole-hearted apology that left no space for the self-righteous streak, found in every other human, buried deep within their cage and only revealed to those who'd stayed long enough to discover.

Luka had stayed.

"Hm." He couldn't tell if the creature within was amused or bothered by the remaining option that his friend had presented. "I'm not ticklish."

Io did a double take at that declaration.

"No way. Now that's just unfair," he pouted, crossing and un-crossing his arms until he had had enough of repeating the action. "Then nothing was going to wake you up in the first place!"

Luka laughed once. It sounded to Io more like an amused chuckle that barely lasted for a few previous milliseconds. The eagle thought about ways in which he managed to drag himself out of bed every morning and was suddenly faced with a minor crisis. He couldn't think of much.

How was one to pull themselves out of the well of sleep and back into reality? The realm was dark and narrow—almost cosy for a mind that sought escape—but the climb tough for those who relied on instinct in their waking lives. Luka was one of them.

"How do you wake up, then? Just...naturally? What about class?" Io could not help but probe. He was fairly curious, after all.

His friend however, was mildly taken aback by the very first thought that surfaced. It was the kind of thought that required further consideration before it should be voiced; after all, was rousing in more ways than one the kind of thing that friends would converse shamelessly about?

Luka did not have an answer to that question.

He reasoned that they being of the same gender allowed for talk without filter but there was always space for doubt and this, was no exception. Did Io wake to the same things he did? He couldn't for the love of skies imagine that happening.

"Oh."

The abruptness of Io's reaction caused the eagle to halt in his tracks and follow his gaze, meeting the eyes of a fairly perturbed vulture. Io waved.

"Off to breakfast, Vaughn?"

"No. I make an effort to skip it everyday," said he with great sarcasm. "How nice to see the both of you looking so unsightly—even more so than usual."

Vaughn had barely slept a wink. The sheer number of nightmares that plagued his three-hour sleep left little to no room for actual rest, resulting in an increased tendency to sprinkle generous amounts of salt on every conversational dish he had the misfortune of being involved in. The vulture had left his room half-an-hour later than usual that morning with the intention of avoiding all forms of human interaction (since there would be a whole crowd making their way to the dining hall), but alas an unknown higher authority was always there to ruin his grand plans.

The sparrow and the eagle—both at the same time! Walking alongside each other in the most friendly disposition! How absolutely disgusting.

"Your efforts are appreciated," Io was not going to give him the satisfaction of sarcasm, skilfully dodging whatever salt that had been aimed towards them both. "It's nice to see you looking under the weather as well! What happened?"

Vaughn could feel the creature in his cage unravel at every word and this was no doubt the main reason as to why he disliked being around the sparrow first thing in the morning (the latter part emphasized).

It was too early for emotions.

"Clearly, you're mistaken." The vulture made an urgent effort to leave the lobby by increasing his pace. "I am perfectly happy and am in no need of your petty concern."

As far as Luka understood from the scene before his eyes, the general outlook was no different from what he'd expect of a surly creme brulee like Evaughn Alekseyve. Whether or not the latter was 'perfectly happy' did not come across as a key concern to the eagle but strictly speaking, Vaughn appeared—in the simplest of terms—normal.

"But you look tired," piped Io, stepping closer to block the vulture's way in an impartial manner. He wasn't exactly standing right in front of him. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Is this your first time looking at my face?" Vaughn did not seem very disturbed by the attention that he was getting, albeit his words that crafted themselves into knives. "My apologies for having a consistently tired expression. I suppose the world would be at peace if every face looked like yours?"

Io considered it seriously.

"I didn't think world peace could be achieved so easily!"

"Oh shut up."

The sparrow laughed. Vaughn had cast his gaze skywards but even then, did not make a move to leave the pair. He only folded his arms and looked away, as though he was waiting for Io to continue.

Now that Io had pointed out very clearly, Luka was beginning to notice the shade of grey around the vulture's eyes that was only obvious at certain angles; his lips that were rather dry; the uncharacteristic crinkle of his dress shirt that was on other days pressed to perfection.

He was tired.

"You're tired," Luka concluded simply. Aloud. Vaugh gave him a look that expressed every emotion that was the opposite of being pleased, shot of letting slip a spiteful comment that would have put a nail in the flow of their conversation.

"How nice of you to notice, Sullivan."

"You're welcome."

Io's gaze alternated between the two and he was beginning to find it increasingly hard to control the bubble of amusement that grew at every word. He couldn't quite tell if Luka was being genuinely concerned or if he was doing so only to poke fun at the vulture. Either way, both options seemed highly uncharacteristic of the eagle and Io found this a curious thing to observe.

"I guess we'll be going then," said he as soon as neither had more to say. Waving. "Don't want to hold you up if you're heading to the dining hall for breakfast."

Vaughn appeared mildly affected by Io's sudden announcement. "I don't eat breakfast. I've said so only minutes ago—were you even listening to me?"

"I was," Io and Luka approached the grand staircase in the middle of the lobby, leading to the second floor of the dormitories. "But I assumed you'd somehow developed an odd sense of humor, since it wasn't the most engaging joke I've heard."

Before Vaughn could express that he'd never meant anything as a joke, ever, Luka was halfway up the stairs with Io a couple of steps behind—the latter turning around to wave one last time.

________________________

Ma,

I'm not sure if this will get through but I'm trying because I think I can send it under my friend's name. If you're reading this, then I guess it works. I have so much to tell you Ma. I'm good. I don't really know what good means anymore, and this is the first time I'm writing a letter to you so I might sound a little different from last time. Is Pa still going out to the woods? He should stay at home some times. I hope Aunt Chelsea and Uncle Rick are coming over to see you. I don't want you to be lonely. Are you still reading that book about spirit animals?

I'm not very good at writing, Ma. I realized only now. I guess I talk better, you know? Like you. I think writing gives too much space for thought. I can choose to write a letter again if I make a mistake. I can stop for a very long time, one hour, two hours, before I write the next word but when I'm talking, I can't. I thought it was supposed to be a good thing; having more time to think before everything is written but it's not that simple. My thoughts can't fit paper. I don't think I like it very much.

I'm doing good. I think I said that just now. I'm not happy, though. If that's what you think 'good' means. I'm good because I'm feeling very human now. I don't know if you know what I mean. I'm eating my vegetables. In fact, I only eat vegetables now. I will tell you the whole story soon. My friend Victoria says that I shouldn't exceed two pieces of paper or it would become suspicious. They might check it.

Victoria is like my friend's sister. My friend's name is Luka. He's very quiet and doesn't talk much, but I'll get him to write something so that you know I'm really doing well. I have many friends, Ma. Don't worry.

Okay, Luka is here. I'll try to write again soon.

Dear Io's mother,

I'm Luka. Io is very healthy. He grew 0.3 centimetres over the past month. He likes to eat grilled mushrooms and boiled potatoes. We slept in an inflatable bed together yesterday. He smells very nice. He is also very nice.

Love,

Io and Luka

________________________

They had spent nearly an hour in Luka's room taking turns to use the bath while the other would sit at the study desk with a quill in hand, staring at a piece of parchment paper in which the letter was to be written on. Io would not stop pointing out the word 'nice' that Luka had used in two consecutive sentences, and that his mother would have already known what his favorite foods were. Half of what Luka wrote was practically redundant.

"Let's just...put this in the post and see how it goes."

The eagle agreed. It had somehow eased into their daily routine, these previous pockets of time that they'd spend in his friend's room ever since the first time Io had paid it a visit. They'd spend an hour or so lazing around, not doing or talking about anything in particular.

"When's our first class going to start?" Said the smaller of the two as he lay spread-eagled on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh. "Lukaaa..."

"I don't know."

"Then I guess neither of us know," Io concluded with yet another lengthy sigh, slightly confused by the ambiguous mood that occupied the forefront of his mind.

"Yeah."

He felt the mattress sink to his far right and turned just in time to see Luka lowering himself onto the covers, filling the space beside him. The eagle was experiencing, for his very first time, an itch that skittered around his cage—one which he soon associated with the urge to speak.

His concerns revolved mainly around the announcement of Kirill's new rule.

As far as the creature within was allowed to wander, Luka did not find the idea (of Io being bonded to another predator) pleasing in the slightest manner. He decided to voice this.

"You...are you going to have a predator?"

Hm. It sounded different from how he thought it would sound. Luka did not wish to come across as uncaring and impassive; yet, the prospect of him having to lace every word with emotion seemed equally insincere and almost false.

"Oh," Io blinked, head turning sideways to face the eagle's back. "Are you worried?"

"...no."

He waited, staring up at him.

"Yes."

Io laughed. He had seen it coming, for some reason, and rolled over once so that he was within reach of Luka's arm. He reached up to prod it. "Hm. So you were thinking about the announcement we saw that day. The list that I was on."

"Yes."

"I don't know, really," he said after a pause, having considered the question some time ago. "Surprisingly, I don't feel very threatened at all—if that's what they aim to do, that is."

"I wonder if everyone else is taking it seriously? I mean I do, too. Of course. It's just...if we're talking about the things that I think about on a daily basis, I just think it pales in comparison. You know what I mean?" Io looked up to meet the other's gaze and saw in it a mixture of understanding and confusion.

It wasn't rare.

"Don't worry! It's fine if you don't. Why don't we get some food before lesson starts?" He thought twice. "Whenever that is."

Io had always found it a tragedy that one wasn't allowed to see the expressions they had on their faces during moments like these—unless they so happened to be standing in front of a mirror when some sort of dawning had come onto them. With the latter obviously unlikely, the sparrow could not help but think those who believed Luka to be a finely chiseled sculpture without emotion to be ignorant if not incredibly naive.

Still, it was, to Io, secretly amusing to tease the eagle about what others thought of him. Because even then, the latter would reveal yet another light in his eyes and it was then that Io realized the importance of emotion in his existence.

_____________________

Vaughn was experiencing an incredible amount of discomfort. That much, he was aware of.

The vulture had been invited to sit through a meeting between the council and the order—held with the intention of discussing the details of the upcoming season games (that were, in actuality, not in season), paying specific attention to the rule that was to be enforced in the coming weeks.

"I want everyone on the list to be separated into groups of four."

The new headmaster was not fond of the way things were going. Silence weighed in the air like a crown upon their heads and every word swallowed for the burden of a single mistake was far too hefty a price to pay.

"There are no groups in the season games, Kirill," said V with a tone that lacked its usual acidity. Her words suggested otherwise. "Only themselves."

"I'm sure there wasn't, Verity. But there are now."

The bearded vulture did not appear fazed by the dismissal of her opinion, done in the most satisfactory balance of arrogance and acknowledgement. She nodded once. "Very well."

It would seem to any observer that V had long conceded to the man's higher status, once hers; that her position was rightfully stolen—if that phrase made sense in any manner, if, at all—by he who deserved it. To Vaughn however, that was not the case.

All he saw was a heart of resentment fuelled by anguish and a streak of envy. Her fire doused by a blanket that stood for the ends they found in each other. The same.

"Iolani Tori," spat the Himalayan vulture, vile as though it was poison on his tongue. "We've been far too kind with the likes of him."

"The sparrow does not know his place." Kirill stood abruptly, causing his chair to drag with a horrendous screech that rivalled that of his Avian's. "Forming an...alliance of his own. Does he plan to disrupt the order that we've worked so hard to maintain?"

Vaughn felt his hand curl into a fist at the words that had been so obvious. After all, the man was merely repeating every word that his mother had said long before and yet there was a grand response across the table as though he'd revealed the most genius conclusion.

Nonsense.

"He is a wretched thing, that boy," a voice of the order said blindly, "but we must bear in mind all that we have done. We must not falter or be swayed by a sheep black as he."

"Lord Falrir will punish him for what he has done."

"Exactly," Faustes rose from his seat and spoke with fire on his tongue. "Therefore, Falrir would want us to leave Tori alone. Was I wrong to assume that those of the order place their complete trust in the Lord's judgement? The boy will be punished if he is guilty and that is not for you to decide unless you are trying to play God—again."

Kirill laughed, shaking his head. There was an uncertain murmur that swept across the conference table.

"What are you suggesting, Faustes?"

"Nothing," spat the hawk. "Only that you are blind and lacking in common sense."

Not another word. Faustes rose from his seat and did not spare the room a second glance, crossing it in a couple of strides before jerking the door open and leaving in an air of quiet fury.

*

The room was filled with the silence of a ghost.

"No matter," Kirill seemed unfazed—unamused—by the series of events. Vaughn could only think of that as proof he was a living lie himself. "There is more to do than mourn over the loss of another bird that has left the sky."

All of a sudden, all eyes were on him.

Vaughn stared blankly in return, attempting to control the wild creature in his chest that was growing larger with every second and pounding louder on its cage. "What is it?"

He was afraid. Kirill appeared—for some reason—awfully pleased and for the first time, a streak of darkness that was not part of himself slithered tight around the black vulture's throat.

"What is it?" He hadn't intended to repeat himself, but the silence was rising to this nose and he could barely breath while it drowned his every thought.

"We've heard that you...made new friends."