Flight School: Prey

Starting End

A/N: It would be nice if you could play the song at this symbol #. Honestly, 'Stand by me' is perfect for Io. The lyrics fit him so well. Also, the longest chapter I have ever written is coincidentally the last. XD I hope you enjoy, and I will see you in the next book.

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Io found that there was no flying over the walls of the Box. A vacuum prevented him from doing so; stealing all access to height and making him fall all of a sudden. It was fortunate that he had regained his balance midway to avoid a crashing into the forest grounds since his mass, having increased at least fourfold from shifting into Luna, was far from insignificant.

He spoke to Luka as they navigated towards the gate that Io could see, so easily, upon shifting. After all, the moon was the all-seeing eye—right up in the sky. Therein lied talk over trifling matters. So much like small talk but far more important, almost severe. They circulated around the matter in which Vaughn, trudging alongside Luka, remained oblivious to. It was the conversation of mind that kept them in privacy.

Is Vaughn doing alright?

The eagle glanced sideways to take in a salty vulture. He's normal. He turned back, unable to resist the urge to fix the windows of his soul on a light so endearing.

That's good, Io paused to consider telling Luka what the vulture had planned on doing with the gun to his head-then thought against it. Can you really see me?

Yes, was all the eagle could come up with because there was, really, nothing more and nothing less. He merely watched as wisps of luminous dust fell upon the forest floor in Io's wake, leaving light in his path that was for Luka to follow.

Is Pipa okay? He could not stop that thought from flowing. Io had let the voice of his heart invade, for a brief moment, before keeping it away in the next. An unknown source of guilt gnawed on the bars of his cage, leaving behind a wretched memory that came in the form of Pipa's words.

Green-eyed, Luka did not respond. He understood that it was in Io's nature to be concerned with the plight of others but to remain so even after being abandoned was not exactly the strength that Luka had expected Io to have. For the benefit of him and his friend, Luka chose the option of silence. For fear that Io would discover his unjustified jealousy and fall at the thought of someone Luka thought unworthy to be Io's friend.

The moon understood the silence that cloaked him and the night, feeling instead the wind beneath his wings that were soft in its glow, leaving a peculiar trail of dust in its wake.

Stardust.

He could, so subtly make out the shape of two following his light and there was no better soaring than a guiding. Io never thought himself a guide; to be something so great that others were to follow. It seemed impossible, if not highly unlikely.

The boy was so small in a world so big and it was exactly how he had felt in the sky with a rush that stirred the beat of the heart in his cage and to see the wings in his peripheral vision—so huge and so bright—to feel the wind in his face, a caress; it was soaring. Soaring.

Such, was flight.