Immortal Darkness: Shadow Across the Land (23 page)

As a sense of slight anxiety rushing all
throughout his body, Pesstian lifted his wings in an attempt to fly
around and about the air surrounding the humans’ vessel—until Leyai
let out a sorrowful sigh. Turning into ears, Pesstian startlingly
placed his wings back against the sides of his chest when he
wondered, “What’s wrong?”

Hesitating at first, another sigh escaped
from Leyai’s beak when she responded, “It just doesn’t feel like
home.”

These words echoing in his head, Pesstian
peered out into the swarm of owls as they happily flew around and
around in circles. Although almost every one of the owls before him
showed off free, happy expressions on their faces, Pesstian noticed
as a small series of nostalgic glints made their way into his
sight. It was then when he began to feel an uneasiness lurching
within his stomach.

Turning his gaze onto Leyai, Pesstian
responded with a weak sigh, “I know how you feel. It’s not like
home at all.” A pause came into the conversation before Pesstian
broke the silence and continued, “With the ocean surrounding us, it
still feels like we’re in a small room.”

“I’d probably feel better about this if I
only knew
what the humans were going to do with us!” Leyai
complained with a snort.

“I know how you feel,” Pesstian responded
through a sigh. “But for now, all we’ll be able to do is wait on
this vessel until we find out what the humans are going to do with
us.”

--

For a whole night did the nocturnal birds fly
their way through short circular paths. None of the paths proved to
lead anywhere. All the birds could see at the end of their path was
a dark tunnel.

It was this sense of repetition which caused
many of the owls to quickly grow jaded and exhausted from the trip
the humans had set for them.

As the long night began to draw to a close,
Leyai found herself growing worried.
How am I
possibly
going to keep myself amused for tomorrow?
The thought of
having to spend another dull day on the human vessel caused a spark
of anger to rush through her blood.

Leyai—who was still unsure of what she should
have done the next day—took sight of Pesstian as he sat on one of
the ledges of the human vessel’s railing. While sitting on the
ledge, Pesstian turned his gaze toward the rest of the owls as a
majority of them enjoyed their time of flying.

A yawn and a duo of sagging eyes showing on
his face, Pesstian took sight of Leyai walking toward him. It was
after releasing another yawn when he greeted, “Hi, Leyai.”

The sound of his voice vibrating in her ears,
Leyai quickly replied, “Hi,” as she seated herself next to
Pesstian. A small pause filled the air with silence.
He’s so
quiet,
she silently murmured.
Is that all he’s been doing
today?

Leyai broke the silence when she complained
through a small yawn, “I am so bored! I have no idea what we’re
going to do tomorrow! I think I’m gonna
drown
myself before
staying on here another day.”

Suddenly startled, Pesstian gave a slightly
confused blink before he stammered, “I—I think I might know—I may
know
one
thing we might be able to do!”

“What’s that?” Leyai wondered, curiosity
ebbing at her head.

“Besides flying, I’ve tried to balance myself
on these ledges almost all day. It’s proved much more fun than
flying!”

Her ears twitching slightly, Leyai picked
herself up from Pesstian when she tested his idea. One by one did
she place her feet along the railing’s thin finish. Every step made
her feel as if she were to fall down into the roaring waters below.
A small snicker escaped from her beak when she made an attempt to
perfectly align her talons with the railing’s ledge.

Taking notice of a slight struggle beneath
her feet, Pesstian picked himself up from the ledge and walked over
just behind Leyai while trying to keep himself balanced on his
aligned talons. All the while did a bead of sweat roll down his
face.

Once perfectly balanced on the ledge,
Pesstian nudged Leyai’s shoulder with his wing while whispering,
“Are you sure your talons are
perfectly
aligned?”

I don’t know,
Leyai realized just
before taking a look down at her talons,
are they?
At this
thought, she took a vigilant glance toward her talons—quickly
taking notice of her front talon giving a slight slant to the left.
A shock of realization rushing through her spine, she shook all
around in an attempt to straighten her talons together.

While straightening her talons, Leyai slowly
discovered her lack of balance inevitably tipping her over into the
ocean. Just when she had made this realization, Pesstian shouted,
“Look out!” as her wings began to give out a series of rapid
flaps---none of which had any pattern or rhythm.

Feeling herself fall closer to the ocean,
Leyai released a fearful shriek when the grasp of freezing-cold
water brushed by one of her talons. It was at that moment when the
beat of her wings gave an increase; such an increase helped her to
gain altitude much easier. After flapping for a small and fearful
amount of time, Leyai exhaustedly found herself hopping back onto
the human floors.

For only a few heartbeats did a short pause
of silence make its way into the owls’ ears. Bringing an end to the
silence, Pesstian informed Leyai through a sigh, “That’s the tricky
part about balancing yourself on these ledges. You have to make
sure that you don’t tip over while you’re aligning your talons up
with each other.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Leyai muttered as she
shook a wave of water droplets from her feathers. Allowing one
little droplet after another to splash onto Pesstian’s plumage,
Leyai noticed as the images she had just recently taken sight of
gave a flash into her eyes. It was the thought of these pictures
which caused a flame of both intensity and fear to rush through her
blood; in response to it, she gave a heavy shudder.

“I think I’ll stop for now,” Leyai suggested
to herself as she placed a seat on the very ledge she had nearly
fallen off of earlier.

Noticing as she gave up on the game of
balance, Pesstian followed Leyai lead as he took a seat right next
to her.

Feeling Pesstian’s feathers brushing up
against her body, Leyai’s mind suddenly itched to ask him a
question:
Why does he hide so many scars beneath his
feathers?
Taking notice of his wing, she shuddered when the
sight of a large, thin mark on his skin came into her sight. In
addition to shuddering, this sight caused her to shift in her
wooden seat—causing Pesstian to turn a confused gaze over at
her.

As he took sight of a troubling look passing
Leyai’s face, a pause of hesitation came into place before he
finally asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Upon hearing these few words, Leyai gave her
head to give an upwards flinch of surprise as a mixture of both
guilt and surprise crossed her face. Another short moment of
hesitation coming into place, Leyai brought the silence to an end
when she let out a sigh. Once the sigh had been released from her
beak, Leyai slowly inhaled just before asking in response, “Why do
you have so many scars on your body?”

“It’s not
that
many,” Pesstian
responded, taking an uneasy look at Leyai.

“Oh, really?” Leyai sneered while shuffling
uneasily in her seat. “Then what
would
you call
that
many
?”

Feeling as this question pounded against his
eardrums, Pesstian gave his lower eyelids a slight twitching as his
shoulders tensed upwards until his own feathers began to tickle his
ears. As his shoulders continued to tense, Leyai’s began to fear
for his mind when she noticed how his shoulders’ tensing made him
seem twice as large as he was a moment ago. It was after releasing
a sigh when Pesstian appeared to return to his normal size.

Ruffling the feathers in his wings, Pesstian
sucked a stream of air into his lungs when he replied, “I guess
that many
scars would be the amount of scars my father has
on his body.”

“Why does he have so many scars? I always
thought that all combat masters were well-respected by
everybody.”

“They are,” Pesstian confessed, “but let me
tell you this: Karon’s life was completely different during the
days he had lived
before
becoming a teacher.”

Before so much as a tiny fraction of a
question could slip its way off Leyai’s beak, Pesstian explained,
“My father came from a place called Idola.”

“Idola?” wondered Leyai. “What’s that
supposed to mean?”

“The name comes from a human word he believes
is supposed to mean
torture
. In Idola both the humans
and
owls were forced to go through a series of physical
testing—at least that’s what I’ve heard.”

Leyai—now hooked on hearing the rest of
Pesstian’s story—gave a series of many rapid blinks as her gaze
onto Pesstian’s eyes. A spark of curiosity flaring in her eyes,
Leyai’s ears itched to hear the rest of what Pesstian had to tell
her about Idola. Just when she felt as if she could hold back her
curiosity no longer, Pesstian continued on with his
description.

“My father used to tell me how the people of
Idola are decided at birth whether they should live or die. I don’t
know why they have to make this decision, but some owls say many of
those who even attempt training will die before they’re halfway
through.”

“What kind of training?” Leyai asked, a glint
of curiosity pricking her mind.

“The worst kind of training you can imagine,”
Pesstian responded through a murmur. “I’ve been told that both the
humans and owls go through separate academies when they’re still
children. Once they’re in these academies, the first thing that the
children have to do is go through a whipping punishment.”

“A punishment?” Leyai shrieked in disbelief.
“Punished for what?”

Sighing did Pesstian explain, “They’re
punished because the people who run these academies believe that
constant pain will make you stronger.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” Leyai
snorted.

“I know,” Pesstian responded through a
grunt-like sigh. “All I know is that—for some reason—both the human
and owl academies encourage pain so that their children can get
stronger. Fortunately for my father, the humans’ training was much
worse than the owl training.”

“From what I’ve heard, the owls that the
humans take control of are also sent through training courses. Even
though the owls’ academy is nowhere near as bad as the humans’, the
owls are forced to learn a lot about the way the humans do things.
Once they understand, they’re put through a training course where
they have to fly their way through every corner of Idola. Through
every trip they make, the owls also have to deliver some weird
rolls of human fabric to other humans.”

“Why would the humans want to do that?” Leyai
asked.

“I don’t know; it just makes the human
academy seem even stronger than the other!” Pesstian chuckled at
such a thought. “Anyway,” he continued, “the humans who run this
academy send every one of the owls all around Idola so that the
owls’ wings will be strong enough. From what I’ve heard, there have
actually been owls in that academy who have passed out while
flying.”

“Did they survive?” Leyai asked through a
mumble.

“I don’t know,” Pesstian responded while
slowly shaking his head. “But if they did, I bet they weren’t able
ever to fly again.”

Thinking back to what he had just uttered to
Leyai, Pesstian took a glance down at the wooden floor as he let
out a large sigh. Thinking of all the misfortune that his father
had been through as a child, images of Pesstian’s own misfortune
began to float throughout his mind. It was the images’ presence
which had sent him into a depressive swirl.

Taking notice of his sadness, Leyai asked in
a soft tone, “What’s wrong? Do you feel sad for your father?”

Hesitating from her question at first,
Pesstian slowly shook his head when he vaguely replied, “I feel—I
feel sad for myself.”

“Why? Have
you
yourself been through
what the owls and humans have been through at Idola?”

“No,” Pesstian sighed as a pang of guilt
pushed against his chest. “But—whenever I even think about those
moments my father experienced as a child, I start to think about
the earlier times I’ve had back at home.”

As a confused look crossed her face, Leyai
seated herself slightly closer to Pesstian. Her feathers nearly
brushing up against his wing, she asked Pesstian through a murmur,
“What do you mean?”

These words echoing throughout his head,
Pesstian gave another sigh before responding, “If you lived with
most of these owls back when we were a lot younger, you would
probably have remembered seeing me as a target for everybody
else.”

Before a single word of question could slip
its way through Leyai’s beak, Pesstian continued, his gaze pointing
toward the floor, “The reason why I have
so many
scars all
over my body is because of them.”

At this moment, Pesstian’s stretched a talon
toward the group of owls Leyai had come to know in the past day.
Looking in the direction in which his talon was pointing, Leyai
listened as Pesstian’s words boggled her mind. Once she had come to
the realization of Pesstian’s view, Leyai asked, “What have
they
done?”

“I’m okay with most of them now,” Pesstian
admitted. “But shortly after I first came to know them, almost
every one of them—including your friends—caused me physical and
emotional pain. And I know that it’s hard for you to accept this,
but—never mind.

“But what?” wondered Leyai, fighting back the
urge to hiss.

“Some of them still haven’t grown up enough
to stop.”