It was no surprise that Jiro had been terribly afraid for his friend. He had come to him after the first dance—deathly pale and ridden with guilt—to ask who he had danced with.

Io himself couldn't come up with a solid response. After all, he didn't know her name.

"She had long black hair...wearing a black dress," This was all—unfortunately—very useless indeed since there were simply too many people at the ball who wore a black dress and had long hair. Jiro pointed this out rather lightly, calming down after confirming that his friend was well-taken care of.

"Oh!" The sparrow recalled quite suddenly, "she's from the council. I think."

Jiro's shoulders fell slightly as he apologized. Marks were rarely involved with the council.

"There's nothing to apologize for," Io laughed, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. "I still have the evening ball to go for, so I might..." See her again, he wanted to say, but it was in that precise moment that Io remembered something very important.

He darted past the Marks (pigeons, mostly) who were clearing up after the Hunt ball, preparing for the next in the late evening as he waved over his shoulder. "I—I gotta go. Let's talk at home!"

The sparrow had forgotten that he was to meet the strict and impatient man who had, begrudgingly, passed on Luka's invitation to the Commemoration ball. Ah, he was late.

Surely, a lengthy warning was imminent. And perhaps a lecture on punctuality.

He also noticed not the look of pleasant surprise on his roommate's face. Not when he bumped into a wall whilst turning back to give a final wave; and definitely not when he used the word 'home'.

The nightingale was honored.

*

"You've got the buttons on your vest wrong," The council representative snapped darkly, eyes already cold from the boy's earlier mistake of being late. "I fear your ability to carry a tray of drinks across the room. You are absolutely beyond salvation."

As it turns out, Io didn't even need to think about his attire in the first place. He had completely forgotten about the slight alteration to his invitation—the sparrow was invited as a waiter, not a guest.

Still, the remark about him being 'beyond salvation' was, for all intents and purposes, harshly put across.

"Sorry Sir," Io had bowed almost immediately, hoping that at least being passive would earn himself an easier time getting along with the teacher.

"Your tie is ridiculous. It's far too long. Adjust it will you?" Io's school tie had a stick-on Velcro at the back—he had no clue how to tie one. Besides, absolutely no one wore a tie back in his village. "Oh someone save him from the pits of despair."

A Winged crow decided to lend a hand.

Io learnt something new that day; and it was the fact that crows were considered predators—though the lowest tier, third—and they were the only ones who proved to be humble and unassuming indeed. The sparrow was quick to remind himself, however, that generalizing would be a dire mistake to make.

"Have you taken a look at your scheduled duties?"

The boy nodded firmly. "Yes Sir."

"And?"

Io paused, hesitant. He didn't quite understand what the man wanted him to say.

"Will you be so kind, sparrow, as to tell me what your duties consist of?" The latter sighed—rather incensed. He wasn't even looking at the boy by this point; perhaps he deemed him unworthy of his holy gaze.

"Ah—well, I'll be helping the...um, the..."

"The Phoenix, child. Phoenix!" The teacher completed with a look of complete outrage as if Io had violated his modesty (if he had any). "Skies! You don't even know the importance of this young lady you are about to serve! If you'd know anything—anything at all—ah forget it. Only a fool would reason with someone like you."

Io nodded meekly. He did think of pointing out the fact that no one, really, would answer his questions even if he did voice them—but turning against it as soon as he realized its futility. "Yes Sir."

"Continue."

"I'll be serving...Miss Phoenix in her preparations for the Commemoration Ceremony with...with Mr. Falrir—"

"Lord! Lord Falrir, you idiot—"

"Yes, Lord Falrir," The boy felt his heart shrivel up and die a little inside. "And uh, I'll be joining everyone as soon as the first dance begins by serving..." He glanced at the row of test bottles nearby, "Champagne, red wine, white wine... p-pink...? Wine...?"

He received an unappreciated slap on the back of his head whilst squinting at the labels.

Ah, more brain cells lost.

Io realized that he needed them desperately—perhaps he should start wearing something to protect his head.

"I've no time for your nonsense, sparrow. You'd be good to listen to my instructions crystal clear before you make any intractable mistakes, you understand?"

The boy nodded, swallowing any protests whatsoever.

It seemed easier to do so nowadays—when he had gotten used to it.

*

"Oh!" Came the fairly intelligent response from Io as soon as he entered the dressing room. In his defence, the occupant had surprised him very much—although rather pleasantly—to yield such an abrupt greeting.

"I-I mean, good evening," he bowed in an embarrassed manner.

In the center of the room was a stretch of dressing tables; all unused and empty except for one. To the far right was a fancy wardrobe—a lone hanger dangling from the top of one of its doors that was slightly ajar.

"Hello again," Her gaze met the sparrow's through the looking glass.

It was her—from the student council. The one he had danced with in the afternoon.

Questions arose; but he barely managed to force them back in their cage.

"Sorry to interrupt—uh, should I...?"

"No," She nodded, going back to whatever she had been doing before Io's silly entrance. "Come in."

He did.

The sparrow was so confused by this point of time that all he wanted to do was to double-check the label on the door outside.

"Here's your drink Miss," sounded far too formal the moment they left his lips. There was no way he could take those words back either way.

The phoenix nodded in thanks, brushing her hair aside to reveal bare ears.

"Jane is fine."

Io was startled by this; the fact that a predator was telling him to call her by her name.

There was something else too. Something else that startled him, prompting the following question that was so very rude in every other context.

"Is... is that your real name?"

She blinked, busy hands pausing for a moment. Her eyes burned through his own, but he sensed no offence.

"Why?"

"Oh no, I'm just... I'm curious. You didn't look very attached to your name. And that is a terrible assumption to make so please ignore me," Io pleaded with a tentative smile, slapping himself on the inside. "I didn't mean to ask."

Jane was quiet. Her hands continuing to hover over the selection of earrings before stopping at a simple loop, which she picked up and wore effortlessly.

The sparrow couldn't help but wonder if all those belonged to her. He was sure that earrings were a definite personal item, they couldn't be shared after—

"No it's not."

Io refocused; confused.

"It's not my real name."

He wanted to ask her what it was but then, after thinking twice, he forfeited that very thought. So he kept his silence.

"Will you help me with this?" Jane held up a necklace with a small silver pendant.

Io agreed promptly, shuffling closer to put it on for her. He did so with nimble fingers, and realized that he had a flair for dainty things. If only that gave me an A grade on my report card, he thought helplessly.

The predator thanked him, taking a sip of her drink in a calm manner.

"Actually, I should be the one thanking you," He reasoned all of a sudden, feeling the need to. "You really saved me today Jane."

She glanced sideways at the sparrow.

"No matter."

"Are you really a phoenix?"

"Yes."

"Wow," Io blinked with a silly grin. "That's so cool."

She tilted her head, as if confused. "Really."

"Of course!"

Jane always had the impression that she was very plain. After all, was she not Miss Plain Jane?

Or so that was what they would call her.

"It's time," She rose from her seat with a typical elegance, setting her glass of mysterious liquid on the dressing table.

Her standing up made Io notice the extravagance of her scarlet cheongsam—an ankle-length mandarin gown with a daring slit that ran up to the side of her mid-thigh—and the clear disjunct between the dress and her personality. It left him quite unsettled.

"I'll escort you to the hall," the sparrow offered, checking the time. "Lord Falrir will be arriving soon—the sun's about to set..."

"...and my time is about to end."

Io turned abruptly to the girl, shocked by her unsettling comment. Noticing this, she corrected his wandering thoughts.

"I meant that I am connected to the sun."

Ah, so she meant that she was diurnal? O-Okay, that made sense. Woah that scared me.

"So I guess you and Mr—I mean, Lord Falrir, have a very close connection?" He drew from the assumption that a Dragon and a Phoenix came in pairs. Somewhat like night and day.

"No, not really," Jane denied rather impassively, as if she hadn't bothered enough to think about such a trivial matter. "I see him only once a year."

"As the Phoenix—the sun—I represent all diurnal Avians. I am to honor Lord Falrir on behalf of my kind," She added mundanely.

All of a sudden, Io felt awfully honored to be standing beside Jane. If she represented all diurnal Avians then surely, she would be—in a way—his Queen?

The Phoenix sighed; and along with this release Io thought he saw a bit of her happiness escape—in wisps.

________________________________

The ceremony was held moments before twilight; marked by the grand arrival of Lord Falrir in fashionable robes and blazing fire. Literally—he breathed it. Well, that is if you'd consider raspy breaths and throaty coughs breathing.

Io vaguely recalled his roommate raving about the pure grandeur and majesty that Lord Falrir possessed with little effort, but now he was beginning to doubt his senses.

Ultimately, he reminded the sparrow of his dead grandfather.

Well, just that Lord Falrir wasn't dead.

Guests—predators, of course—were equally pleased to see the dragon. They gathered in the ballroom, applauding the lord as he crossed the red carpet in confident strides (hobbles). Jane did well as a student representative of the council, waiting patiently at the end of the carpet before ushering Lord Falrir to his seat at the high table.

Though an elder (by perhaps a hundred years or so), he treated her with equal respect—urging her to take a seat to his left, while the headmistress sat on his right.

She accepted the offer with a polite bow of her head. "It will be my pleasure, Lord Falrir."

Meanwhile, this period of reception proved to be much more hectic for poor Io.

"Hi—uh, what's your name again?" One of the crows asked.

"Io."

"Yes, uh Io—could you head back to the kitchen to get another tray of champagne? Alfred's going to kill me," He groaned, clearing an empty glass that was left abandoned. "I forgot to ask if they were underage—why'd he think they'd tell the truth anyway? S'not as if I'd know whether or not their eighteen."

Io laughed awkwardly, unsure as to whether or not the crow was being relatable or simply just over-worried. "Alright. I'll get them."

"Thanks, I'll check on the situation at the high table. Will you be so kind as to inform the kitchen that we're probably serving the light refreshments in like, twenty or so?"

The sparrow nodded once more, retreating back into the hot and bustling kitchen.

Outside, the sun had fallen below the horizon with a silent yawn—leaving in its wake a night full of its dreams we called stars. The curtains to the terraces were drawn aside in an orderly fashion, revealing the beauty of an evening sky.

For many, the warm lights within was enough to remove the mild virulence of a Hunt ball and set— instead—a mood for celebration and romance.

Indeed; romance seemed to be a tempting prospect after the wear and tear of Season, or so the predators have come to view it to be. To them, it was as trivial as a speck of dirt on their shoe.

"Lucienne," of course, swept the falcon off his feet with her dazzling appearance. Though late, she was greeted with an equally welcoming response from her peers. After all, it did pay well to be recognized as one of the thirteen predators of highest rank.

"Lucienne."

Yes, Dimitri knew he had said her name twice under his breath—if she hadn't already taken it away, per se—but he was far too enraptured to care.

The harpy eagle cast an impish smile his way, but made it vague enough for him to draw near.

"Lucienne, you...you look," He paused to think of a word. It never surfaced. "Well your dress is..."

Lucienne arched an amused brow. "Yes, Dimitri?"

"—very revealing," The falcon ended unintentionally. His eyes were not where they should be.

Lucienne rolled her eyes, smacking the back of his head as if in attempt to wake him from his dreamy state. "Imbécile."

*

Perhaps he changed his mind after the first ball, Victoria reasoned with her Winged.

He didn't buy it, eyes searching relentlessly still. Surely, the sparrow would have accepted his invitation—but what made him know for sure? There was no sign of the small figure.

I'll wait, he thought.

Victoria sighed. The first dance begins at eight! That's already past his curfew, Luka.

He will come.

His Avian found no explanation for this irrational thought. It would be an outrage if you dance with a prey. What's more, a sparrow—in front of the dragon himself! Spare me.

The eagle swept aside all conflict of interest; his mind and his heart.

They all seemed to be far too different for any plausible conclusion to be made, or any solution to be formed.

For some curious reason, he just felt responsible for the sparrow.

*

Having not-so-discretely tasted some marvelous raspberry and chocolate trifle, Io was ordered by Professor Alfred (the temperamental man who apparently represented the council on most occasions) to serve drinks in the ballroom for the next hour.

This humored the sparrow very much for there really wasn't anything he had to do. The moment he emerged from the kitchen and stepped into the room filled with live music and joyous chatter, the contents of his tray were more than often gone in a mere minute.

How everyone seemed to be searching for something to quench their thirst, Io did not know. He had an inkling however—and decided to attribute this to the never-ending gossip that surrounded the details of a particular predator's dress or who they have decided to arrive with.

"Dimitri has terrible manners as usual. I heard from Megan that he'd asked Lucienne tonight but look at him!"

"He didn't even have the courtesy to escort her. No wonder she's late."

"No surprise there," Io heard whilst standing quite still in a corner, tray of drinks carefully balanced on the tips of his fingers. "The Hearts are infamous for their absence. Look around; do you see the vulture?"

"—just because he's the headmistress' son, he can get all sorts of privileges..."

"And that owl. No, not that one—Slayne. The snowy owl. So much for being a Nocturne, he's probably fast asleep."

"With his silly prey somewhere close."

"Probably."

He hadn't meant to eavesdrop on their conversation. In fact, the sparrow was standing quite a distance away from the group of girls; all terribly well-dressed in the most inviting evening gowns.

As a teenaged boy however, Io did appreciate the beauty of fashion with effort. It was obvious to him, and perhaps to everyone else in the room, that each member of the opposite sex was trying to impress the other.

He made a mental note to ask Nash or Jiro about this newly established period after the hunting season.

Courtship, perhaps?

Which reminded him, strangely—where was Luka?

"Who's that?"

"Where?"

"That one," she turned her gaze so that her friends would follow. "The white dress."

They looked. Io did, too, out of curiosity.

It was Odette, the white swan; and her brother, the black.

She had on a very simple white dress that stopped above her knee—so simple that it held great offence to the ones who looked, and saw nothing but a beauty so natural it sang.

"Is she...?"

"Yes. Look at her feet—she's wearing pointe shoes," One of them said in horror, wriggling her nose in disgust. Envy made them a green-eyed monster.

Io however, saw past the lens of pride and prejudice. From his tiny corner, he saw the detest and jealousy stifling the air in the room—filling it with an odd emotion that felt so close to despair. Its grip shook the bars of his cage like a vice, staring through the gaps with eyes that lusted for blood and fall.

In this cage, no one shall fly; it seemed to say before its hands—skeletal like—wrapped around their neck in attempt to crush the air out of slender life, suffocate beauty in all its lies and perfection—

For why do humans envy?

This green-eyed monster; what could be the purpose for its existence?

These thoughts haunted; for they were the ghost of his mind that shadowed the voice of his heart— and where there was him, there had to be both. After all, he could not kill a ghost.

And all of a sudden, everything seemed a little too bright for the sparrow.

So bright that he yearned for the darkness of night;

So bright that he wished he could escape from light;

So bright that he yearned for a place so dark—

So dark that the stars would be so bright.

_______________________________

Further away from the radiant chatter and closer towards the silence of the night—there lay a humble treehouse in the middle of a quiet forest.

It was dark and almost asleep; the wind breathing coldly to coax it with a chill.

There was a warm glow that came from a modest lamp in the house. It was weakly lit—but weakness didn't necessarily eliminate purpose.

Like the humans that were weak, the lamp, too—served well. It served to illuminate; no matter how frail its light, so easily snuffed out. And that was what it meant to be a lamp.

But what did it mean to be human?

As always, unanswered questions had, in its own way, some sort of eternal beauty. Luka thought so too—as he sat on the wooden floors of the treehouse, looking out onto the balcony where he could see the moon.

He was glad that the flame of the kerosene lamp was weak.

Had it been too strong, the night would have been less dark. And the lack of darkness would have meant that he could not see the stars.

His Avian nestled in a corner of the room, snuggling into the sleeping bag her Winged had laid out.

For all intents and purposes, Luka was bored.

He saw no value in his staying at the ball or dancing, even. Dancing was terrible with an empty heart; or a mind that was elsewhere. A dance needed the dancer's attention.

It craved it. It lived on it.

It lived on the heart.

But alas, there was something else that lived on his very own.

And it was this very moment, that he—too distracted to see—saw him.

Io's head poked curiously out of the gap in which he had climbed the makeshift ladder to reach. His gaze had searched the room in quiet happiness before realizing that there was another occupant beside himself. And Lyra, of course.

This realization made him blink in pleasant surprise (and almost let go of his grip on the rope), for he had not the gall to think that he would meet the predator so soon.

They stilled in silence, minds blank—hearts written.

So loud.

Luka was someone who found a strange beauty in first introductions; as unlikely as it may seem.

It wasn't that the words after the dream-like moment mattered any less. In fact, the dream only lasted for a mere few seconds, a brief, fleeting moment never to be returned—it was simply because it was a moment of change, per se.

From that moment, strangers would become...acquaintances.

Or so he had thought for all his life.

But for all intents and purposes, this wasn't the first time the eagle had met the sparrow.

It wasn't at all.

So then—why?

Why was it any more special than it was the previous time?

"Hi," The sparrow piped. Luka had known his name for the longest time, but of course—it was different if he were to formally introduce himself; aloud. "Luka, right?"

"Yes."

"You are?" He continued after.

Disheartened, the sparrow's shoulders fell. "You forgot my name?"

"I was unable to catch it the previous time," He admitted—which was true, indeed. The unsolved mystery remained as one for the longest time; the fact that all of a sudden, the eagle was unable to hear the thoughts of his companion.

He realized that he never wanted to experience that again.

"Oh," The smaller figure hoisted his legs up the platform, squeezing past the tiny gap and making himself comfortable on the space beside Luka.

"I'm Iolani Tori," He craned his neck to look into the embers of Luka's eyes. "But it would be nice if you could call me Io."

"I see," Came his simple response.

Io, however, seemed perfectly content with it.

"Are you—" He started, not knowing where to begin. Questions were, of course, necessary. But somehow—at this point of time—there seemed to be no satisfactory answer that could replace this moment. This thing running through his cage.

It was very strange indeed.

The eagle, waiting patiently for Io to continue, brought the kerosene lamp closer to his companion.

"Why are you here?"

It crossed his mind as rude the moment the words left his very own lips, but Io couldn't take them back and could only hope that Luka was forgiving.

Luka couldn't seem to care.

He didn't know why.

"I'm always here," Came his rather vague reply. It felt like a tease, so Io was quick to smile.

"Do you mind me coming here?"

Luka didn't.

"Did you see my note?"

"About the moon?"

"Yes!"

"Yes, I saw it."

His smile was a glow—and it surprised Luka for a moment, though his face showed nothing as usual—and that only made his heart so much louder than it already was.

How very, very strange.

"I saw your reply."

The eagle lowered his gaze to meet his companion's. "You did."

"Thank you for replying," Io piped with an all-too-excited gleam in his eyes.

It was nearing midnight, and yet he felt as if the day had only just begun.

His cage was so full of something.

At that time, he assumed that it was questions.

"Is that your sleeping bag?"

"Yes."

"Are the beds in the predator's dorm uncomfortable?"

"...they seem fine," Luka said after thinking. He hadn't really considered the quality of his bed back in his dorms.

"So why do you sleep here?" Io continued curiously.

The eagle did not answer. He couldn't think of one, either way—and it seemed quite silly to say that he thought of this place as his nest. A sort of...secret base, or so Io would have said. Nevertheless, he deemed this thought unnecessary to be voiced out loud, and therefore; a reply unneeded.

There was a moment of silence in which the small figure waited patiently for his companion's answer. After all, thinking required some time.

Certainly, an answer that had some thought put into was worth much more than one that was careless and rather haphazard.

Such answers were half-hearted, and it left the question feeling quite abandoned.

And yes, Io did attribute emotions to the questions he asked.

But seeing that Luka had no intention to respond, he respected that decision and simply gazed at the eagle for some time.

'Some time', apparently, was a very long time—because soon, a gaze had turned into a stare, and a stare into...well, a longer stare.

Glancing sideways as he sensed this, Luka was mildly surprised to have caught Io staring.

The brief moment allowed the eagle to observe this strange fixed gaze. He sensed little to no hostility in the eyes of this harmless creature; and certainly no awe; or mirth; or even curiosity.

Nevertheless, they were far from vacant.

Io's eyes were filled with something—but Luka knew not what.

"Is there something wrong?" He decided to ask after a while, when Io had not stopped looking at him.

"O-Oh," The boy shook his head. "Oh no. I was just thinking. I'm sorry."

Luka saw no need for him to apologize. But normally, he would have been quite disturbed indeed.

"There's still two more hours till the end of the Commemoration ball," Io continued from where they had left. "Why did you leave?"

The eagle gave a straight-cut answer—which was the simple fact that he was bored.

"You're bored?" Io had blinked in faint surprise. "But predators get to eat loads of good food and, you know...wear those cool tailcoats and puffy-frilly chest thingies!"

It was amusing how he had described a ruffle dress shirt.

"Um, if you're bored then...would you mind playing a game with me?"

_______________________________

A/N: OMG OMG OMG OMG THEY MET EEP DO YOU LIKE IT OMG I'M SO EXCITED hahahaha I actually really like Lord Falrir because he's quite funny hehe I didn't want to portray him as a typical cool dragon but more like a funny grandad (who also thinks that his jokes are funny).

Also, more Io and Luka in the next chapter!! Hooray! ^0^/ thank you so much for being patient my dears. I'm so happy.

Thank you for reading.

-Cuppiecake.

P.S Timmy still isn't back ;_; But I will wait for him.