Italics: Spell names, thoughts and emphasized words

' ' : Re-quotes

" ": Quotes

CAPS: Yelling


2 – White Owl

Talon didn't bother to pay any heed to where he was going. He'd been running for hours, and had lost sight of his house only what seemed like moments earlier. His chest tightened painfully, and he swallowed begrudgingly to assuage his pain. His breath escaped in sharp gasps, and he coughed, having familiarized himself with the metallic taste of blood within the past couple of hours. Hunter was asleep on his back; Talon's forearms burned with pain, but he disregarded it, observing his surroundings instead. Where in hell was he? Sand almost covered his boots, and swirled around his robes as if it were alive. A vast ocean stretched in front of him, indigo mixed with white—the color of nothingness—and silver, ships dotting the coast; spots of spit, water and other equally strange substances decorating the lens on a pair of tan, grainy, trash-littered-sand-framed glasses. The nearest ship couldn't be any further than forty metres away. Talon exhaled loudly, causing Hunter to stir. Talon froze momentarily before jogging lightly towards the ship, feverish glances and his intense heartbeat permeating the silence that enveloped him. Talon skidded to a halt, stumbling to catch himself, failing, and pitching forwards, Hunter falling off of his back and plummeting into the sands, waking mid-fall.

"—The hell, Talon!?" Hunter inquired, much to Talon's chagrin. Hunter rose to his feet and brushed the grains out of his hair, preparing to question Talon further, but paused as he caught sight of the enormous ship before them. "Whoa."

Talon returned his gaze to the ship before beginning to stroll inside.

"Hey, Talon—where are you going—wait, you bastard—do you want to get yourself slaughtered?"

Talon paused his walk, and turned towards Hunter, mischief written across his face, nonexistent graffiti artists decorating his smile with playful intent.

Hunter sighed. "Why doesn't he act like the older one?" The younger boy shook his head and followed his sibling into the ship, inhaling deeply, feeling the mana pool stir inside of him. Talon didn't know that Hunter was able to use any form of Divination. Hunter sincerely hoped that they'd be ambushed, just so he could blast someone and revel in the astonishment that would plaster Talon's face. But then again…would his magic be strong enough? The only spells he was able to cast were the Saytr spell that Lucas had taught them, and his own premature Wild Bolt. Which was pretty pathetic if you considered that although he exercised regularly with Talon, his physical capabilities were zilch. Hunter was broken from his thoughts as his nose crushed painfully into Talon's back. "Ow, Tal, what the he—"

"Shut up!" Talon hissed, his gaze resting on a table lined with fresh food. He opened his bag and hastily began scooping the food inside while Hunter stuffed a piece of bread and cheese into his mouth—

"Did you really think it'd be that easy?"

A voice. Raspy. Hoarse. Obnoxious. Talon stopped scooping the food into his bag, and drew his axe from his back. He stole a glance at the table, which was practically empty. He clasped his bag and slung it onto his back, standing protectively in front of Hunter, axe brandished defensively. "Show yourself!" He demanded.

Hunter swallowed the bite of food and pressed his back against his brother's bag, inhaling and exhaling steadily, the mana pool within him stirring violently. He had to concentrate to use spells especially since he wasn't familiar with magic. Wild Bolt. Wild Bolt. Wild Bolt. WILD BOL— Hunter's eyes widened as his hands were suddenly pinned against a wall, and a knee was planted firmly in his stomach. His mouth widened as well in a silent gasp of fear, spittle flying from his mouth slowly, as if time was slowed. The young man who had just downed Hunter with a single blow turned towards Talon.

"Your hands are trembling." The young man noted.

Talon's eyes gradually wandered to his hands. His knuckles were stark white, a hearty contrast to his dark skin, and the calluses on his hand burned painfully. The axe shook within his grasp, fear rooting him in place. Fear. Of a young man who couldn't have been more than two years older. Fear.

Fear.

Talon swallowed nervously, attempted a scowl, and countered, "Wh—Who are you?"

The young man ignored the question. "Did'ja really beli've that you'd be able to get on this here ship and then just as eas'ly escape? Th's ship? You're on the mass've beauty of the White Owls, kid. You ain't going anywhere."

A voice resounded throughout Talon's skull, and the fear inside him dissipated, replaced by irritation. He repeated himself, more calmly this time, glancing at Hunter before speaking. "Who are you? And who are the White Owls?"

The man snorted. "They call me Raht. And I'm a member of the White Owls. The White Owl…pirates, to be exact."

Talon's eyes widened, and fear returned to him again as Raht seemed to materialize in front of him, a fist already planted in his gut.

He welcomed the pain as he fell to the ground, consciousness stolen from him.

Talon awoke to voices. Hunter lay next to him, metal bars crisscrossed in front of his eyes. Through the bars, he could make out a small figure, no more than about four feet, ten inches, with a raspy voice, muttering something to a much taller figure. Through his grogginess, Talon presumed it was a giant.

And then he remembered Raht and growled darkly as his surroundings came into focus and his hearing sharpened.

"—Yeah, of course. The older one has a lot of fire in him—yeah, and the younger one seems to be able to do some magic—well, yeah, of course I did—oh, they're awake." Raht paused and strolled over to the bars, a grin plastered on his face. "Hey there, kiddo."

Talon growled in anger, and slammed his fists against the bars, ignoring the pain. Raht's face was enveloped in a pale red glow, something that Talon felt familiar with but didn't quite recognize. Raht smirked. "You can't get outta there, big boy. I of all people should know best."

Talon…

A voice beckoned to Talon, and he heard it reverberate within his subconscious. He drew back from the bars, confused, and placed a hand on his head in worry. Confusion began to overwhelm him as Raht's continued speech was drowned out by a multitude of agonized screams and voices that sounded familiar but weren't.

Do you want power?

There it was again. Talon spoke, his voice lowered to a hiss. If it talked to him, there might be a point in beginning a conversation. "Who are you?" The thirteen year old Bloodbane hissed. "And how come I can hear you?"

I am you.

"What?" Talon questioned, a bit too loudly this time. He was confused. He felt fear crawling under his skin.

Raht's attention and interest had been piqued. "Who're you talking to, skins?" Raht inquired, referring to Talon using a nickname he'd bestowed upon many of the newer White Owls. Talon failed to hear him and continued asking questions.

Thalomir.

Talon paused for a moment, eyes widening. His blood froze cold and his limbs felt numb.

"I said, who the fuck're y'u talkin' to?" Raht repeated, slamming a crowbar against the makeshift prison.

Hunter snapped awake. "W-Who..?" Hunter muttered almost incoherently, a babble of words that Raht failed to understand.

Talon stared at Raht, eyes still wide, frozen in shock. The thirteen year old slumped to the floor, dread filling his pupils. "No.." He whispered.

Do you hate this man?

"Shut up!" He barked hoarsely. "Just answer the fucken question and then we'll be all goody-two-shoes!" Raht roared. His breath slipped through the bars; entered Talon's nostrils. It was foul. More foul-smelling than the smell of his mother's food. Which smelled quite horrid, mind you.

"No..." Talon muttered again, fear overwhelming him. Thalomir. The name stood out in his head vividly. Images of death, images of darkness, and images of blood filled his mind and a lump formed in Talon's throat, squeezing his esophagus tightly. "No...no, no...no...no...NO...FUCK!" Talon yelled in exasperation and slammed his head against the wall, cold sweat dripping down his neck.

Are you afraid of me?

"Shut up!" Talon roared hoarsely, tears unintentionally making their way down his grime coated face. "Shut...up..." He slammed his fist against the prison wall, oblivious to anything but the voice in his head.

"You piece of—" Raht began as Hunter scrambled in front of his brother, eyes filled with conviction.

"Oi, Raht! Stop 'nterrogatin' the recruits and get yer ass on deck! We set sail for the city tonight, y' sl'my bastarrd!" A pirate yelled and rose from his chair. Raht sneered unhappily as the pirate strode over to the prison where Talon sobbed, accompanied with his thoughts and Hunter stood defiantly. He spun a key ring around his finger and unlatched the cage. "G't yer asses outta here, boys. And stick with Raht, d'nt be buggin' nobuddy."

Hunter grabbed Talon's wrist and hauled him out of the cell with much difficulty. Talon's crimson eyes were fixed on the ground, still as wide as saucers. "Talon," Hunter hissed, gripping Talon's shoulder's tightly. "We have to get out of here. These people are crazy."

Talon shook his head, and looked at Hunter, inspiring fear in the younger brother after gazing into his dread-filled sibling's eyes. "Don't you see, Hunter? Don't you see? I have to go to Ravenwood. They can help me."

Hunter broke out of his trepidation and yelled. "Talon! It takes a month by ship to reach Ravenwood! We live in Marleybone, for hell's sake, don't you see? We have to go, now!"

"I can't, Hunter." Talon sobbed, slumping to the floor again. He felt weak and waves of nausea poured over him. Bile rose in his throat, but he swallowed it down bravely. "You don't understand."

A harsh slap echoed throughout the deck. Talon's eyes were still wide. The moisture that had been crawling down his face moments before vanished, wiped away as Hunter's hand connected with Talon's cheek, a red mark visible on Talon's dark skin.

Hunter shook his head demandingly. "You idiot. If you're going to sit here and bawl like an infant, then go cry somewhere else. You aren't my brother. You aren't strong, like my brother. My brother promised never to cry ever since his mother died. My brother promised to take care of me forever. My brother promised me that we'd survive, no matter how hard things got. You aren't my brother. ...If you intend to stay here, then do it. I'm getting out of here."

Talon rose to his feet. "Wait." He wiped the tear streaks and remnants of tears from his face, conviction sparking in his eyes once more. "I'll come with you."

Hunter scoffed, a smile playing on his face. "So have you finally come to terms with yourself?"

Talon merely shrugged.

Hunter grinned widely, amused. His brother was back, it seemed.

I am you.

Get out of my head. Talon's strong thought sent a wave of uneasiness rippling through his mind, as if he was repelling the enigmatic voice known as Thalomir. He knew who Thalomir was-his father told him stories and forced him to study ancient history. According to the books, Thalomir was a tyrant who rebelled against the Titans because he was fed up with the way they treated him. So he lashed out. At everyone. He killed innocents, slaughtered almost every race in the galaxy before he was stopped by his own son and three of his friends. Although Talon considered it brutal to turn against your own father-your own kin-on the contrary, he figured Thalomir got what he deserved. But Thalomir was dead.

So how come he was inside Talon's head?

Talon snapped out of his thoughts and turned towards Hunter, who was climbing up a ladder to the upper decks. "C'mon, Talon, hurry up. I have to-"

"Hafta what?" A raspy voice filled Talon's skull and he froze. Raht. A young man, two years older than Talon—at least—about 4'10" tall, shuffled towards the duo, his face masked by the shadows cast by objects strewn across the room which reminded Talon that he had no idea where they were. "Hafta to leave? Haft' to die? Tell m', boys, what'cha hafta do?" Raht hissed, a sinister tone accompanying his words. As he moved away from the shadows, his facial features began to become clearer to Talon, and for the first time, he saw the other boy's high cheekbones, gaunt face, and elongated, yet crooked jaw. It was a twisted beauty, almost.

Talon swallowed nervously, all thoughts of Thalomir lost. "We—" he began, but Hunter stepped in, much to his chagrin.

You should've accepted my offer, boy.

Get out of my head, bastard. Talon inhaled deeply, pushing the voice from his mind as best he could.

"We want to leave. We want to leave now. Let us go and we don't have to fight." A bluff on Hunter's part, but it was true. The boys could fight. Not well, of course, but they could fight decently enough to break a nose or leave a scar or three.

Raht laughed maniacally and the slightly shorter Hunter stood in front of his sibling protectively. "Don't make us—" He began, his voice shaky, but Raht waved his hand dismissively, wheezing heavily.

"Oh…oh lord…I was onl' messin' wit'cha. You lot could've left whenever'd you preferred, but once you're on this ship, you can't get off. 'Specially now that we're sailin'." Raht drew a canister from the loose fitting belt on his thin waist which seemed proportional with his arms, more akin to twigs than anything else. The young White Owl tossed the canister into the air, caught it, and fingered the pin attached. That canister didn't look like a magical item, and Talon didn't know about the Earthborn and their form of weaponry.

Hunter swallowed loudly.

Talon thought for a moment as the silence in the room remained obsolete and the crashing of waves slamming against either side of the ship calmed him. He inhaled deeply and so did Hunter, whom he assumed was concentrating for a Wild Bolt spell. "Fine," Talon concluded. "Fine. Let's say we're sailing—"

"We are sailin', boys." Raht interrupted, matter-of-factly.

"—Let's say we're sailing. What's to stop us from jumping into the ocean and swimming out to shore?"

Raht turned his attention towards Talon, a malicious gleam in his eyes. "The spikes'll kill ya 'fore you even get off the ship."

"Spikes?"

"Moonspikes, kiddo." Raht clarified. "We here at th' White Owls are practicers of th' Astra' spells. All of us know a wee bit 'bout Moonstuffs, but the Moonstuffs we know here are dangerous."

Talon adopted an expression of sorrow at the mention of the name Astra, which he knew was a mispronunciation of Astral, but returned to full attention as Raht finished. He sighed. "So we're stuck here forever?"

Hunter roared in agony. "Dammit all to hell! Now we're stuck with a bunch of pirates and no one to save us! How the hell're we gonna survive!?"

Talon found sudden interest in the floorboards as Raht snorted loudly.

Raht snorted again, and flicked the canister into the air once more, catching it and placing it back in his belt with unusual care. "Funny." He muttered as he turned and walked away from the two, seeing as they were lost in their own self-depreciation. "Funny. I musta' thought the same damned thin' firs' time I came here."

Talon's ears pricked as Raht finished his sentence and his crimson eyes fixed on the boy as he strolled away. A voice in Talon's head filled his skull again, and this time, he didn't stop it.

Do you want power?

Where did this road lead?


MW: So, you're probably wondering why the characters are prone to mood swings and emotional outbursts. Well, first of all, they've all been through quite a bit and at such a young age, when traumatized, people tend to become emotionally volatile. Also, more will be revealed about Raht as the story continues so hang tight.