Chapter 5: The Raven

Cyril returned to his home in the early morning. He was later than usual, having spent a very passionate night with Wren in the desert. After taking her back to her hotel, Cyril flew into the mansion of his boss through an open window. He was still shirtless, some of his clothes having been lost during the act. The shifting sands had claimed them. 

"You're late." A man said. He was sitting at the desk in Cyril's room.

"Master Florian!" Cyril jumped back, his feathers ruffling with surprise. It wasn't like his boss to be in his room like this. 

Florian was middle aged, but often mistaken as much older. He was a man who was tired. Tired of working, tired of life, and tired with dealing with a certain brat. "I told you not to get involved with her." Florian said, looking over Cyril's rough state. It was unlike the harpy to be underdressed. It was even more unlikely for him to be late. 

"Master I-"

"Stop calling me that." Florian insisted. "You know you're like a son to me."

Cyril smiled at that. Despite how cryptic he had been when talking about his boss, the man actually was good to him. Cyril was forever grateful to him for taking him in. 'And I still went against his word.' "I couldn't help myself. There's just something about her."

Florian just let out a loud chuckle. "I don't blame you bird brain!" He exclaimed. "That pretty young thing is a showstopper!" The man had laughed so hard he had a tear in his eye. He wiped it away with his ring finger. "If I was a little younger, you'd definitely have some competition on that one."

"I wouldn't let you have her." Cyril replied. He pulled the closet door open with one of his talons, balancing on one foot. 

"Ah but seriously Cyril, this isn't good." Florian said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. 

The harpy paused from looking through his clothes. He looked to his boss and frowned. "Did you learn anything new?" Cyril asked. 

"No." Florian let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't want it to be him." He sounded so defeated. 

"We still don't have any evidence."

"But still. I know in my heart that he's the one killing those girls." 

"Mr. Becker?" A young maid entered the room, pausing at the doorway when she saw Cyril in a state of undress. She blushed, trying not to stare at the harpy as he struggled to put on a new shirt. "Oh, I'll help you with that in a minute Cyril."

"What is it, Sophia?" Florian asked. 

"Your son is downstairs." The maid replied. "I think there was something he wanted to talk about."

"...Speak of the devil."

--- ★ ---

Florian Becker, son of Galactic Film's founder Kurt Becker. Back in his day, Florian was a playboy. He spent daddy's money on traveling and living life to the fullest. Florian was known for his many mistresses. One of whom ended up being Elias Becker's mother. He unfortunately came into this world at a time when Florian was still partying it up. He just wasn't mature enough to take on that responsibility yet. Elias's mother wanted nothing to do with him either. So, the young Elias ended up living with his grandfather, Kurt. 

About ten years after Elias was born, Florian was traveling the French countryside. It was part of his great European excursion. AKA: The year he backpacked with some hippies and took too many drugs to remember. To this day, Florian's memory is still foggy when it comes to that trip. But there is one thing that he can still recall crystal clear...

--- ★ ---

Far away from the city of love, Florian followed along with his guides. They had been hiking down an unmarked trail for some time now. "This place better be worth it."

"Oh, it is man. It's like an oasis for people like us." The scruffy looking fellow in the lead said. "Last time we visited, we feasted and fucked for three days straight." He boasted. 

Florian laughed, nodding his head in approval. Sounded like a good time to him.

"Yeah, and you can trade for practically anything there. They've got this like makeshift market. I was so thirsty after my hike there I traded my shoes for a glass of pear juice. ...And then I needed shoes, so I traded my compass for some." That was definitely a bad decision. "Boy, I learned my lesson on that one."

"Bring your own water bottle?" 

"No man. Never trade your compass away. When it was time to head home, I got lost for like a week."

Well, that too. Florian just took the advice for what it was. Semi-wise words from a grungy hippie he had met only two days ago. They kept hiking until the faint sound of music could be heard through the trees. Everyone in their group got excited. People who were exhausted just moments ago suddenly got a recharge. They took off running through the trees until the path lead them to a large clearing.

"Whoa..." It was everything the man had said. Florian looked around, amazed. It was like a traveler's secret paradise. There were brightly colored tents scattered about. People from all sorts of backgrounds danced in the clearing by a large smokey bonfire. The sounds of music and some casual lovemaking could be heard. It didn't matter what age or gender people were. They just got their freak on.

That day, Florian spent most of his day living like a nudist. He partook in the bizarre and unique culture of this encampment without questioning it. If someone handed him a pill, he took it. By the time the sun set, he sat in a pile of five other random humans stoned out of his mind. 

"Hey man!" His guide from before stumbled out of a tent. 

"Yooo..." 

"Dude, this buddy of mine says he caught a giant bird. Like it's...uh..." The man tried to hold his arms apart to describe the size of the bird but forgot just how big it was. "Whatever, we're trying to decide if we should cook it for dinner or worship it as our new god."

"Sweet." Florian nodded in approval. His thoughts were still blurred from whatever mystery substances he had consumed. 

"You should come check it out." 

And so, Florian followed his guide back to the center of the encampment. There at the bonfire was a man telling the tale of how he captured the giant bird. Florian took a seat on a nearby stump. 

"There I was, struggling to find my way back here when I suddenly stumbled across some strange nests." The man said. He was gruff and dressed like an American army veteran, complete with face paint. Rumor was that he was self-treating his PTSD with LSD. The man described the nests being very high up in the trees. They were made from sturdy wood beams and connected to each other by ropes.

"Heh, sounds like a treehouse." Florian said offhandedly. 

"That's when I was ambushed!" Everyone gasped. "They were everywhere! Giant bird gods with razor sharp beaks. They just came out of nowhere. So, you know, I shot em." The man just shrugged casually. The group all clapped for him. "I would have brought them back, but they were just too heavy. I got this littler one though." He explained. The man pulled on a rope. He reeled in what looked like a giant turkey at first. Its feathers were all out of place, many of them loose and on the verge of falling out. 

Like the others, Florian was in awe...at first. He chuckled, wondering what the bird was going to taste like. The man dragged the bird closer though, revealing the boy with raven wings. "Hey wait a minute." Florian was slow to comprehend what he was seeing.

"Impressive, right?"

"That's a child!" Florian finally realized, standing up in shock. The bird was a young harpy, about eight years old by the looks of him. 'Is it still alive?' He wondered. Florian feared for the worst as he knelt down by the tied-up boy. Blood was soaked into his feathers. Florian moved his long hair out of the way so he could check the boy's neck for a pulse. Still alive. "Where did you say you found those 'nests' again?"

--- ★ ---

The horrors Florian saw that day were forever burned into his memory. It was also his wake-up call to sober up. He and the inhabitants followed the veteran. Florian's comment about treehouses was not far off. What they discovered deep in the woods was a massacre. They tried to save the wounded creatures, but they were all too far gone. Their village in the trees was no match for modern day weaponry. There were signs that some of them were able to fly off and get away but after weeks of searching...none of them came back for the boy. 

--- ★ ---

"Elias!" Florian called from the foyer. He had returned from his trip, a new man. Florian was disheveled from roaming the French countryside, especially after the last few weeks of his trip. Hearing word of his return, Elias and Kurt Becker ran downstairs to see him. 

"You better have some explaining to do!" Kurt yelled at his son, making his way down the steps. "What the hell is that thing?" He stopped halfway down the stairs. Elias walked past him to the landing, stopping at the bottom of the steps instead. 

"Elias." Florian completely ignored his father. He smiled, stepping aside to reveal the filthy bird boy who was now awake. "This is your new brother....uh..." Florian struggled to find the words, having only spoken French for the past year. "Cyril." That was a French name.

The ten-year-old Elias made a disgusted face. "What did you do, fuck a bird?"

"Elias! Language!"

"What do you care? It's not like you've ever cared about being a dad before." Elias scoffed. 

"Florian! Get that....THING...out of my house!" Kurt yelled. This frightened Cyril who hid behind Florian's legs. "The fucking bull crap I put up with. If you weren't my son I would have abandoned, you in the desert years ago."

Elias got a little smile on his face from that comment. 

Florian looked hurt. He still tried to ignore his father, instead continuing to only address Elias. "Well, that changes today. I am done traveling. I'm going to stay here and be a good role model. For both of you." Florian said, leaning over to put a hand on Cyril's shoulder. 

"I already have a good role model." Elias said, looking to Kurt. He then started to walk off, pausing at the doorway. "By the way," Elias looked back at his father. "That disgusting monster will never be my brother."

Kurt nodded his head in approval. "At least someone in this family turned out alright." He said before returning upstairs.

--- ★ ---

Florian kept to his word though. He cleaned up Cyril, cut his hair, and really tried to be his father figure. The man spent years looking for any literature he could about harpies, but most of the books he found were made up fantasy. Elias...sort of came around. He acknowledged that his father was trying. However, true to his word he never liked Cyril. The biggest change came from Kurt. After seeing his son's effort, he welcomed Florian back into the family business. Elias was still his golden boy for the most part, but he had acknowledged that his son deserved to return after his transformation. He also realized that the monster...was useful.