United Federation, Wistan State.
Town of Niora.
The sharp, insistent ringing of the phone broke the silence of the spacious apartment.
It vibrated against the wooden bedside table, threatening to leap off the edge.
A pale hand emerged slowly from beneath the duvet, fingers stretching towards the phone in the dim morning light.
After fumbling a few times, he silenced the phone.
The quiet settled again, interrupted only by the faint rustle of wind against the windows.
Skyler blinked, languid eyes adjusting to the gentle illumination sneaking through the curtains.
The usual hum of the town was absent at this hour.
He took a low, sleepy yawn; the comforting warmth of the blanket seemed too tempting to leave behind.
The refreshing scent of morning dew drifted faintly from the window, teasing wakefulness while a light chill tickled the edges of his feet where the blanket didn't reach.
It was early autumn, but the air was already getting colder by the day.
Through his half-opened eyes, Skyler glanced at the clock that showed the current time, 6:02.
With effort, he swung his legs off the bed and stretched.
His joints creaked from sleep, but he forced himself to stand and walk over to the window.
Slumping into the reclining chair, he let the fresh breeze tousle his black hair.
Outside, the world was beginning to wake.
Morning glow spilled across the room, catching the dust motes that danced lazily in the air.
He could hear the distant chirping of birds as they flitted between the trees outside.
Across town, the snowy peaks of the Shimokawa Mountains pierced the clouds, their jagged beauty hiding Merris Lake, a sapphire jewel that drew tourists year-round.
Blue eyes watched the rising sun, golden rays lighting up the snowy mountain peaks.
Skyler was a professional hiker. He practically lived for these mesmerizing sights.
For a moment, he just stood there, savoring the breathtaking view, before finally checking his phone.
Skyler unlocked his phone, expecting—knowing—there would be a message. And indeed, several messages popped up instantly.
He clicked on one, and a chat log with a white falcon image enlarged.
Amy:Morning, Sleepy head.
Amy:Up Yet?
Amy:My flight is on time, better be at the airport by 7 30. Don't you dare be late.
Amy: Remember to bring my spare clothes.
Looking at the barrage of messages, Skyler smiled in amusement.
He replied with a simple text: At your command, my lady.
He noticed the first message had arrived at 4:39 am, making him frown.
Taking a mental note, Skyler went to the bathroom to wash up.
Looking at his face in the mirror, he thought of the flirty comments on his recent blogs and shook his head with a wry smile.
Sharp, angular facial features with piercing blue eyes, but the beard softens that severity just a little. It's a neatly kept full beard that isn't overly heavy, adding maturity without hiding the strong jawline.
He was 6'2 feet tall with a lean, muscular yet athletic build from years of hiking and calisthenics.
He came out wearing a thick cotton white t-shirt with a black woolen jacket, slightly loose yet resilient black trousers.
The living room was spacious but simple, sunlight pouring in across the dining nook and kitchen.
Skyler moved to the balcony, where a small birdhouse hung from the eaves.
"Ferro?" he called.
A white, feathered head poked out, eyes narrowed in drowsiness, looking at his land-dwelling servant in annoyance.
The mutated falcon with pristine white feathers adorned with small cyan patterns on its wings hopped onto his shoulder with practiced entitlement.
Still not used to the bird's intelligence, Skyler scratched the bird's beak.
He found the egg in a fallen nest last year during a treacherous hike.
Pristine white, about 4 inches long, with tiny cyan spots and extremely warm to the touch.
He decided to bring it as a souvenir for his wife, which did not end well.
"Why did you not restore the nest to the tree?" was the first thing she asked, leaving him speechless.
Failing to convince her of the mysteriousness of the egg or that it might have been abandoned and discarded.
He surrendered and apologized sincerely, hoping it might lighten the verdict.
"Selfish, heartless, reckless, and self-centered" were her cruel remarks before she dropped the matter.
Because she got engrossed in studying the egg as it was still warm.
Curious, she incubated it.
After 60 days, it hatched, when they both thought it was a lost cause.
A sick, weak, feather-shedding falcon was added to the family.
It was practically spoon-fed and nursed back to health during the first two months.
If not for Amara, it would probably be dead multiple times already.
Then it started shedding feathers until every feather was pristine white.
After that, the bird seemed to be on steroids as it grew stronger and bigger day by day.
The bird was only six months old, yet it had already grown bigger than an adult falcon.
Speed surpassing that of the Peregrine falcon.
Not to mention its sharp talons and beak, the cyan patterns on the wings were a recent addition.
Lost in memory, Skyler accidentally ruffled Ferro's feathers the wrong way.
RIP
He winced as talons pressed through his shirt, barely missing blood.
"My bad!" he muttered, and the falcon shifted to his other shoulder, looking expectant.
Breakfast was routine: raw meat for Ferro, steak and veggies for himself.
Time slipped away nearly 7:00 AM.
He wore his hiking boots, checked supplies, and hoisted his heavy backpack.
He was halfway out when he glanced back.
Ferro was swinging lazily on the crystal chandelier, eyes glinting with mischief.
"You coming?" Skyler called.
With a flutter, the falcon launched out over the balcony.
Not bothering with the bird's antics, Skyler locked the door and headed for the elevator, already imagining Amy's next message if he was late.