CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The blackness of the night sky and the darkness surrounding the jungle below became interrupted with an otherworldly purple glow. At first, it had started off soft and faint barely noticeable as it surged from Five Man Tomb which housed the bodies of the Dark Robed Society, soon it became a raging wildfire. The energy surged through the night creating purple lightning to pierce through the sky and creating a distant rolling thunder upon the horizon. The stone grave marker trembled and vibrated beneath the force created by the strange occurrence taking place then as the ground gave one last moan and gurgle the stone broke through the center and snapped in half. Rico opened his eyes, snapping awake from the visions which haunted his sleep. Rolling over onto his side he panted heavily as he tried to rid himself of what he saw. A cold icy grip of fear embraced the core of his very soul. It was the same feeling he felt earlier that day when he had been standing in front of the tomb. Rising from the nest he wandered out to the opening of the hollow. The pale face of the moon shined high overhead peering down to the darkened world below. Letting out a soft sigh, he wandered back to his nest and let himself drift back off into peaceful slumber.
#
The morning sun rose high into the sky reaching the midday point by the time Marco came in for a landing. He folded his wings and studied his surroundings with a cruel set of determined eyes. He hated the Southern lands just off of Rio de Janeiro. They reminded him of his torturous past… the past in which he expelled from his life when he ripped the entire settlement of hawks away from their quiet life of servitude to the ancient Spix Macaws. He could still feel the blood on his wings. He could still hear the screams as they fell at his feet. He remembered how he did it. A single swipe of a stick, sharpened through the use of magic. He knew that the energy dwelt within him, untapped, unharnessed, but in time he would learn to use it. Knowledge of the occult would prove to be a useful ally when measured up to his enemies. He peered down at the small book he carried carefully tucked away in his robe.
"This book must hold the secrets to learning how to access my hidden powers." He grinned. "In my solitude, I'll practice my craft until the day comes when I can strike out at everyone."
He studied his body for several seconds and frowned. He wouldn't be able to pull off any kind of charade in this condition. He cursed aloud as he came to that realization. His body seemed far too clean, far too predatory for anyone to believe that he was nothing more than a peaceful bird. He slammed his wing upon the ground and contemplated the situation for quite some time.
"Looks can be deceiving," he reminded himself. "I killed off the hawks because they thought of me as a friend. This time will be no different. I can very easily alter my appearance. They wouldn't dare question the word of a hawk that lay injured from an attack from a much larger and far fiercer bird of prey. I doubt it would be in their nature. They'd have to help nurse me back to full health."
He cackled one final time and proceeded on getting to work. He lowered his beak and plucked out several clumps of feathers, leaving bald patches across his body. His robe became torn in several different spots. He slashed his beak along the patches of flesh, opening several different wounds. Blood flowed down the crevices of his body, soaking his feathers and staining them a bright red. With a flick of his talon, he added the final touch. He threw clumps of dirt and dust through the air and let it cover him from head to toe. It would serve as a false impression, indicating that he impacted the ground during the battle. He appeared rather lucky and humbled to be alive. His eyes softened and became innocent looking. There didn't appear to be a single trace of evil amongst him.
"It's showtime."
#
Luciano heralded himself to be a bird of few words. In every sense of the definition, he proved to be a wise old soul who stood tall and proud. His fabulous black feathers glistened in the sunlight adding a certain majestic appeal to his prominent features. Despite his species, he was loved by the birds of his grotto who saw him as a confident, caring, and compassionate individual. He was not above those who he served. When they suffered, he tried his best to help them. When he suffered, they returned the favor in kindness. It became this tradition that allowed him to rule wisely for several years since he had arrived from the Northern Lands. Standing beside his wife – a fabulous Spix macaw – named Maria, he wrapped his wing around her and kissed her cheek softly. At first there had been a question on why a Hawk would be with a Spix Macaw, but he would only dismiss them, giving no real answer to the question which plagued his subjects or fed the rumors which circled throughout the entire Southern territories. He only concerned himself with what his people, and what his wife thought about his decisions. As he turned around, he found himself peering to eye to eye with a Blue and Gold Macaw. Forming a pleasant smile, he raised a wing and placed it upon the shoulder of the macaw.
"Ah, Alberto, what can I do for you?"
The Macaw's face twisted with fright as he bowed his head with the proper respect for his elder. His voice trembled as he tried to speak as quickly as he possibly could.
"I thought you should know that Five Man's Tomb has split in two. It happened last night during a fierce thunderstorm that came from nowhere, there were not even any clouds in the sky, and yet there was lightning and thunder. I fear that it is an omen predicting the return of the cursed warriors."
Luciano's eyes narrowed as he thought about the situation for a second. "That's impossible, lightning and thunder must come from clouds and the tomb has been standing strong for years, surely it would not split, and it certainly would not do so for no reason. What you have heard is nothing more than silly superstition and complete nonsense. The Dark Robed Society are still properly buried just as they have been since the day of their execution. They will not re-enter the world, you have my word."
"No," Alberto shook his head. "I have seen it with my own two eyes. The grave marker has been split straight down the center. You must come quickly to appease the souls, or I fear that we all will be in terrible danger."
Luciano lowered his head, sighing in defeat. Even if he did not believe the rumor, he would still go to the tomb to put the Macaw's fears to rest.
"Very well, we will go to the tomb, but I assure you it has not split."
"And I assure you," Alberto shot back. "It has."
#
As the two birds landed in front of the tomb a terrible silence followed as Luciano stared at the grave marker in complete awe and terror. True to Alberto's words the large stone had been split in half. Large scorch marks lined along the smooth stone as if it had been struck by lightning. The scent of the burning stone still lingered upon the breeze; however, the hawk peered past it and could still feel the warm vibrations from the crack itself. Pulling his wing away, he could feel the pulsating energy surging through his limb. It vibrated and his wing went numb.
"What in the world?" he found himself asking as he peered down at his wing. A bright purple electrical current passed between his feathers. "I-I-I don't believe it. Something definitely happened here alright."
"So, it's true," Alberto raised his wings to his beak. "The five members of the Dark Robed Society have returned as specters."
Luciano shook his head. "I don't think we're in any danger of that happening. All I see is that the tomb has been struck by lightning. However, inform all birds under my care that the tomb is off-limits. No one is to come near here until we know for sure what has happened with absolute certainty."