Manifestations of the heart

Tear me apart.

______________________

"O-Okay everyone," Mr. Callaghan clasped his hands together with a sheepish smile, as if to look firm and ready. "Don't be nervous, it's nothing, really!" He laughs, gaze darting from corner to corner of the room.

"Let us all enter the Great Hall with a smile on our faces and our heads held high! W-Well, it is a new beginning for every one of you here after all. Now, we shall lift our heads-ah, not too high, of course—and take a brave step beyond this door," Mr. Callaghan cleared his throat with a final remark, then proceeded to open the double doors to the Great Hall; an awfully happy smile plastered on his face like a mask.

"Please," He gestured the first prey forward to lead the rest into the hall in neat rows of two. The boy in the front, Vijay, seemed to be unable to comprehend the order; as he paused for a moment or two, staring straight forward at the high table, where the Head Mistress sat.

The grand vastness of the Hall rooted him to the spot, and Vijay felt so small in this large space, enhanced by the tallest ceiling the boy had ever seen.

But that wasn't the least of his worries.

He could sense—with a jolting fear—thousands of eyes on him.

Oh, not just eyes of darkness and abyss;

Blood red eyes of a hunter—

Consuming hunger;

And those curious, curious eyes that searched—

Eyes that scrutinized, raked, dismantled, unraveled—

Villainous eyes that smiled and smiled and

smiled.

Vijay Krishnan choked on air—feeling the life that it was supposed to give coil around his neck like a snake ready for its meal.

People; watching.

People; staring.

Eyes,

Eyes—

So many eyes—

"Get moving Mark!" A hideous call sounded in the open space, and Vijay's head snapped to the right in fear.

Mark

Was that him?

He witnessed a hundred eyes stare back in return-and Vijay does not have the courage to pick out the Predator that made the call.

He puts a firm foot forward, willing his eyes not to wander anywhere else but the ground.

"Move!"

"Don't distract him Connor. He needs to concentrate on walking." There was a chorus of strange laughter. Strange—partly because Vijay had close to no idea what they were laughing at.

As the boy stepped deeper and deeper into what he deemed was a lion's den, his fellow Marks followed behind in twos.

The reason for the absence of his partner, he did not know; but his racing heart calms as soon as his Avian lands on his shoulder to accompany his long walk to the raised platform at front of the great hall.

It was a beautiful storm petrel; graceful, soundless, and awfully small.

Eyes that did not belong to humans narrowed in on each and every one of the prey entering the Great Hall-watching, waiting. They focused in on the Avians that perched on the humans' shoulder, curious.

After all, it wouldn't be long before the predators chose a prey.

It would be a good idea for them to start searching;

finding;

hunting.

And when Season comes—

There would be nothing

But the scent of sweet sweet—

fear.

Io shuffled beside his only friend, Pipa, trying his best to hide himself among the rest of the prey. But his flank was as clear as day-with nothing between the peeling eyes of a predator and his vulnerable being, the boy could do nothing.

The frightened double rows of prey filled the noticeable parting in the middle of the Great Hall which separated the Predators from the Preys.

It was a tentative moment; none of the small ones dared to make a move, even with the comfort of their Avians.

Comfort?

How was one supposed to feel—

When their comfort prize

Was their own demise?

"Hummingbird? How high could she possibly fly?" Someone laughed, not bothering to hide their amusement.

"What's that? Flightless."

Words drifted in and out of Io's ears, twisting; stabbing at his chest-as if to slow him down, turn him around.

"What are all of you waiting for?" The Headmistress snapped, her perfectly drawn brow creased. "Sit! Heavens-it's the same every year."

There was a disheartening chorus of laughter that bounced off the stone walls, lit by torches.

Io could see the hint of a smirk on the Headmistress' face, as if proud of her work; while the Predators and Professors laughed openly.

Even Callaghan was laughing.

Why was Professor Callaghan laughing? Io shrunk, frightened.

Why are we laughing at ourselves?

Humiliation jerked at the boy's heartstrings, weighing his entire being-but Pipa kept her ground, tugging at her friend's sleeve and urging him to take a seat at one of the long wooden tables that was closest to the aisle.

Not a good spot, Io found himself thinking anxiously.

"I know what you're thinking," The canary squeezed his fingers in an insistent manner, "But just sit...just to make them stop laughing."

The boy gulped; complying without an argument. His Avian perched on his shoulder with a slight tremble in her down feathers.

He spots his sophomore roommate flashing a kind smile on a table far; and beside him, one of Io's new-found friends, Nash.

The fresh prey calms his racing heart.

The sound of benches scraping at the stone-flagged floor was interrupted by a sharp, shrill voice.

"Soft!" The woman spoke again-rising as she held up a hand.

All movement by the Marks ceased.

Io held his breath as if he was underwater, but he could feel the student's labored breathing from beside. He doesn't dare to move. He doesn't dare to breathe.

What's happening?

No one knew.

Why are we still?

No one knew.

What did she even say?

No one knew.

The Headmistress smiled, an artful gaze sweeping across the hall to relish the scent of clean fear which she gleefully fed on. Her amber beads rested on the side of the Prey-before something came gliding across the Great Hall.

It landed on the crown of the Headmistress' throne; spreading its dark wings for good moment, hunching forward and staring straight into the souls of the weak—as if to scare.

For the look in their eyes were delicious to the poisoned chambers of her heart.

"What is that?" Vijay's voice was awfully small, but it was evident that the Prey in front of him was thinking the exact same thing; for it was he who answered.

"I think," He gulped, soft to the point of merely mouthing the words, "It's a...Lammergeyer. Bearded Vulture—"

Her bright eyes narrowed in on the boy who spoke, smiling wide.

"Oh!" The Headmistress laughed. "You know!"

"Good."

Oh fear,

Why must you hold us dear?

________________________

"Now," She began—turning to her audience with a gleeful grin. "Avians to the gallery! On my right—Predators. The rest, figure it out yourself," She laughed in a thundering manner, and so did half of her audience. The Marks that were perhaps more experienced with such treatment in the school remained silent. The rest remained confused.

Confused—

And a little...afraid.

"Don't want anyone eaten up too early, yes?"

She must be joking, Io laughed meekly.

She must be.

The hall was filled with the sound of spreading wings and a flurry of fluttering movement as the Avians took to the gallery far behind—leaving their companions.

Pipa's topaz-like orbs followed her Avian, ensuring that she was well-nestled in the gallery high above-which looked very much like the stands in stadiums, or so she thought.

And if so;

If this was a stadium—

What were they watching?

.

"The ceremony will begin in a few moments," Quinn Faustes, the Deputy Headmaster stands and speaks in a casual voice that held such authority and strength. Io recognizes him as the one who sent the letter. "I will now explain the procedure and listen up-cuz' I'm not going to repeat myself, am I clear?"

He awaits no reply, moving on.

"If your name is called, move up-I want everyone to be fast with this, we don't have all day. You will stand in front of this mirror," Faustes crosses from the high table where the staff were seated-to a large object placed directly in front of the Predator's mahogany tables. He gives the velvet draped across a sharp tug, revealing the very mirror he spoke of.

It was antique-designed with the most spectacular and elaborate gold frame.

The height of it intimidated Io's poor heart, as he imagined himself standing in front of it.

"Your Avian will join you in front of the mirror, and your bond will be formed. You step off, you're done," The Deputy Headmaster finished simply.

Oh! Io smiled to himself.

T-That doesn't seem too hard.

Judging by what he says, it seems pretty simple.

By...by what he says of course.

He...He said everything, didn't he?

...

The look of glee on the Predator's faces and helpless silence of the older Prey gave Io his long awaited answer, and it was not one of hope.

He's left something out,

Hasn't he?

"Right, let's start with the Marks."

Of course.

Of course they would start with them.

Mock at their confusion,

Laugh at their mistakes—

At their helpless situation.

Io could feel the heated pressure in the hall-like black smoke, forcing itself into his lungs. He couldn't help but harp on the unknown; whatever that Faustes had left out.

But he figured in those few seconds that he had nothing to worry about.

For he could simply mimic the student that went before him.

Simple, really—

"Let's start—"

"Iolani Tori."

—Had he not been the first to be called.

Dear

Fear

Please be kind,

Leave my mind—

Or perhaps some space

For a safe place.

"Iolani Tori," His name was repeated, impatience lining the Deputy Headmaster's tone. Pipa turned to her friend, her eyes reflecting the exact same fear in his.

Fear,

Do be kind—

Any spare change,

Would be fine.

__________________________

[Io]

I've always assumed that it was a natural thing to not be called in class; to be in the middle of it all when everyone took turns to receive their prizes on stage; to be the fifteenth or sixteenth to run the mile-took it for granted, even.

For there had always been something, or someone to follow.

To observe, to look out for what to do and what to avoid.

I would be fine-as long as people made mistakes before I did. No one likes to be the first to try something new; for that's the time when we stumble, trip, and fall.

It's like being the guinea pig-while others watch, and have the advantage of learning.

I've always been a watcher.

And I thought that it wouldn't change in the near future-

Oh but I was wrong.

My head snapped up, eyes darting around in fear to register bowed heads and searching gazes at the repeated name. Shoulders stiffened and fingers trembling, I willed my arm to rise.

"Io...lani," I voiced what I thought had been my strongest tone-but even my perception seemed to be deceiving itself.

The Deputy Headmaster raised a brow as whispers swept across the hall.

"And Mr. Tori, what might you be waiting for?" Professor Faustes' drawled in amusement. "The sky to fall?"

Laughter.

Chatter.

Eyes—

Eyes.

I stumbled to my feet, thanks to the insistence of my uncooperative limbs-and tripped over the wooden bench I was sharing with Pipa and a few other students.

There was a snort, coming from somewhere to the left.

Biting my lip in effort to hold myself together, I tottered to the middle aisle; following the red carpet leading towards the large mirror.

Lift your head, child, Lyra's voice sounded in the back of my mind as I heard the flutter of her wings above.

I obliged, lifting my gaze to look forward; but it was a mere second that passed-just a mere second that I could enjoy the dream coursing through my veins-when I felt as if the sky did fall.

Gaze focused on the destination ahead, I was unable to notice the sudden foot that stuck out in front of my path.

I let out a sharp gasp as soon as my feet came in contact with the obstacle, lurching and stumbling forward in attempt to steady myself hurriedly.

Laughter.

"Nice ass," Someone whispered all-too-loudly, and he was joined by several cat-calls.

W-Why are they calling?

I'm...I'm a male.

My steps forward gradually became more and more tentative-timid and confused. And all I could do was pray that it was my last flop.

Ignore them, Lyra advised; but her voice was trembling.

Ascending the several steps to the raised stone-flagged platform, I took a second glance at the Deputy Headmaster, hoping he wasn't all too annoyed by my strange behavior.

"Right. In front of the mirror, if you please," Professor Faustes gestured to the tiny cross marked on the floor, indicating the exact position for me to stand.

I was glad that I could be sure that I did not need to face the audience.

Just face the mirror.

Look at the mirror.

Everything will be fine.

Shuffling to the indicated position, I repeated the words over and over in my head in attempt to calm the thunderous beat of my tiny heart.

"Hold out your hands."

I complied, cupping my fingers together to form some sort of tiny, broken bowl.

"Avian," The professor gestured to the area formed by my hands. Lyra landed on the heart of my palm.

Something in the mirror moved—

My gaze snapped to its focus,

Darting,

Searching.

The hall was silent, hushed with expectation.

"What do you see?" I was asked, but nothing rose from my throat.

I stole a glance at the Deputy Headmaster, anxiety creeping into my heart as his eyes narrowed in impatience.

"I-I...I don't see anything."

"Close your eyes. Concentrate—listen to your Avian."

I gulped, legs weak as twigs; but nodding quickly and complying without question.

Lyra, Lyra what's supposed to happen?

Io—child, calm down.

Remember my words;

The meaning of your name—do you remember?

It...It means

To soar—

Yes, Io;

You were born to fly,

To soar high in the sky—

Fly

Fly...

Fly...?

Strange, this word.

Yet—

There were whispers behind my back; sweeping, gliding.

Something was wrong.

The whispers were getting louder, and then people were gasping.

Eyes snapping open in panic and fear, I was expecting the worst—

And then thoroughly disappointed by that very expectation.

The relief and awe that shook my being, yet stopped the tremble in my fingers was evident in the hazel of my eyes that shone deep as the roots of earth.

Wings.

Wings, on my back—

WINGS—

A shade of chestnut, highlighted by streaks of black and wheat beige on every fine detail of each feather-

There was a chorus of low grunts and taunting laughter.

Jeering?

W-What's going on? Did I do it wrongly?

"Get on with it..." Scorn.

"Nothing special," Sneers.

"Next-" Taunts.

"Tree Sparrow," Professor Faustes' voice cut through the painful noise that tore at each and every feather on my ticket to flight. My gaze remained fixed on the mirror, refusing to believe that what I was seeing merely existed in the world beyond this looking glass-and not in reality.

"Takes?"

Silence.

"Calls?"

Silence.

What was that?

Eyes on me;

Watching,

As if this was some kind of show—

Oh.

A show.

That was when I realized the horrible resemblance of the ceremony to something they call—

A circus.

The ringleader, hosting the show—

The animal trainer, ordering with a whip in hand—

The audience, scrutinizing, eyeing, watching—

And that I,

Was merely one of the many acts.

______________________

"Vijay Krishnan."

Storm Petrel.

"Rhea Caisley."

Hummingbird.

"—Lee Juan."

Splendid Fairywren-exotic.

Unlike me, Lee's bright blue wings were received with warm applause and amazement, even whistles of approval.

"Gretchen Klein," was a beautiful peacock. Although she was introduced as 'one of the Marks', Professor Faustes added that she was 'third tier'.

I turned to Pipa, confused-but before I could voice my queries, her name was called.

"Good luck," I whispered hopefully, wondering whether it would make any difference at all. But Pipa was strong, masking her fear with a layer of weak confidence.

"Up here, come on-quickly."

The blonde girl hurried up the steps with Sylvester fluttering above, and stopped in front of the intimidating mirror.

Her wings appeared the very moment her reflection was captured in the looking glass-as if her feathers were made out of sunshine itself.

Pipa's wings were delicately stunning, but awfully small-

Like a cupid's.

"Canary."

"Takes? Calls?"

The hall was silent.

No one cheered-but neither did they jeer.

Deadly—

Silent.

I could tell from Pipa's expression in the mirror that she was trying hard not to cry from the immense pressure, taut in the air. There was simply no response-

Then someone began clapping.

He rose, tall and broad shouldered; and clapped a slow rhythm. He was smiling.

Predators began to join in, one by one. But it seemed as though not many approved of such behavior, for some remained seated and expressionless-as if bored.

The Great Hall was filled with a half-hearted applause as Pipa descended the stairs quickly, using the back of her hand to wipe her wet eyes while she smiled awkwardly.

"Oh God, never would I want to do that again," She laughed quietly, flashing me a small smile that only made more tears fall.

Neither would I, Pipa.

_________________________

"Jiro...?" I knocked tentatively on the door before scanning my thumb and turning the knob. I found my roommate tucked neatly in bed, seeming to have skipped dinner for an early rest.

Indeed, it felt increasingly horrible as us Prey watched the Predators feast on dinner, empty and hungry.

It didn't help when I overheard Lee's conversation with Vijay—a simple phrase crushing my hopes of redeeming my dreams: They say we deserve scraps.

Gathering a set of pajamas and a fresh towel from the wardrobe, I stepped into the bathroom-Lyra joining myself.

Lyra?

Hmm dear?

...What was the purpose of the ceremony?

Lyra cleared her throat. Well, now that we have formed our bond—we shall never be separated. And you shall learn how to fly. Here. In Flight School.

Oh.

Is...Is that all? I asked, confused.

There's more to it. And we both know what it is.

The marble tiles felt icy against the bottom of my feet.

Undressing, I quickly stepped into the shower—hiding the droplets that were starting to fall from the corner of my eyes.

I've always thought that the day I landed on the Floating Island-would be the best day of my life.

And best indeed.

Today was a great day.

It was great.

It was...

Great.

.

Mother,

Is this how it feels like—

To fly away from one's nest?

To see the world

That one thought a beautiful dream?

Because I think

I'm starting to miss my little home;

For this dream,

The beautiful lie—

Has started to turn into Reality,

The ugly truth.

For in my sleep

And safe I keep,

For all I seem—

To wait and dream.

_______________________

A/N: Picture at the top is a beautiful storm petrel :D I hope by reading this book you will also learn to love these beautiful birds :)

*huggles*

-Cuppiecake.