by Alex Rey
Maybe the human killed one of us because it was angry, Pesstian hypothesized once the enjoyable moment of laughter had come to pass. If I were as angry as the human was earlier, I would probably want to hurt somebody. I don’t know if I would want to kill another animal, though.
After allowing this short moment of thought to slip into place, Pesstian concluded through his beak, “I guess the humans in that room are actually letting us come out from the room!”
The muscles in her face tensing, Leyai nearly let out a snort of laughter when she responded, “That’s silly! Why would the humans want us to come out just after they killed one of us?”
“Only one of the humans killed one of us,” Pesstian pointed out. “Just because one of them killed one of us doesn’t mean that all of the humans want to kill us for leaving our room. The last time they opened the door, they kept it open without doing anything else.”
These words echoing against the walls of her head, a spark of impression swelled through Leyai’s blood when she murmured, “You’re even smarter than I thought you were!”
As a small grin made its way onto his face, Pesstian flipped his gaze toward the hole and took sight of the group of small owls poking their heads through. This sight nearly blocking his vision, Pesstian beckoned the other owls when he explained, “Hey—it’s okay! The humans are fine with us being here.”
Both confusion and relief spread over every one of the little owls as the sound of joyful fluttering began to fill the air. Such a noise made both Pesstian and Leyai feel almost as if they had returned to their original homes.
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.”
These words sending a shock of anger to rocket its way through her spine, Leyai struggled to keep her anger under control. Blood boiling hotter than Pesstian could even imagine, she picked herself up on her feet and retorted, “Do you want me to cause you some physical and emotional pain?” After a pause of silence filled the air, she continued, “Because I can cause you pain any time I want!”
Shaking his head, Pesstian removed his gaze from the floor and boldly met Leyai’s angered stare. After only a heartbeat of staring into her gaze did he shut his eyes and mutter, “If you want to add another scar to my collection, than do it.”
Allowing her boiling blood to travel up her leg, Leyai raised her right claw into the air. It was then when her claw made its way above her head—causing a bolt of hesitation to spring through Leyai’s blood.
Such a shock locked her claw where it was. What’s going on? She found herself unable to move her claw any closer to him. Upon making this realization did she allow a sigh to escape from her beak as she placed her talon against the floor once again.
Her gaze pointing down toward the floor, Leyai explained through a sigh, “I can’t do it; I couldn’t possibly hurt y
ou!” Pesstian’s words seemed to reenter back into her mind as a small pang of both sympathy and guilt sprang out into her blood. It was this pang which caused her to apologize, “I’m sorry for snapping.”
In response to her confession, Pesstian gave his head a curt nod and turned his gaze over to Leyai. “There’s no need for saying sorry.”
These slightly unbelievable words clashing into her ears, Leyai raised her voice once again when she argued in response, “Of course there is! I nearly—oh, never mind.” After expelling these words from her beak, Leyai reset herself onto the ledge, watching as Pesstian followed her lead.
It was after sensing his soft feathers press up against her body when Leyai spoke once more. “I just—don’t know how you could have borne to go through so much pain in your life. And I find it hard to believe that the people around here—including some of my friends—were responsible for your pain as a child.”
Allowing a small moment of thought to pass by, Pesstian gave a sudden turn in his seating; such an action allowed his legs to hang out from outside of the human vessel. All the while did his beak point down toward the ocean.
Once in this position, he focused his gaze on the sea of royal blue when he softly explained to Leyai, “You know—when I was still a very young child, my father used to always tell me that the truths in life will sometimes hurt to know.”
Pondering on the words of wisdom, Leyai exchanged a quick glance with Pesstian when a small grin appeared at the back of her beak. After giving a nod of acceptance, she decided to turn herself in Pesstian’s position—when the sight of a rising sun caught her eye.
Completely flabbergasted by the sudden sight of the sun, Leyai exclaimed through a grasp, “Oh! Just look at the sun tonight! It’s not too often when you get to see something so beautiful without hurting your eyes.”