Immortal Death

THIS IS THE SEQUEL TO "TO FLY ON WINGS OF SHADOW" MAJOR SPOILERS ARE HERE
==Chapter 1==
There was a grave.
It was black and deep and dark, seemingly bottomless. A tree overlooked it, dull green leaves and drab brown branches. 
Over the grave, there was a grate.
The grate was open.
Either someone had been in there recently…
Or whatever inside it had walked out.
She opened her mouth to scream…
And then she woke.
Swan sat up abruptly, breathing hard, clutching her chest, in a cold sweat. Her blue eyes danced around, until she was absolutely certain it had been a nightmare.
She shook her head. Stupid her. She'd had this same dream every night since October, the evening she and Storm had gotten home from the border of Claram and Umbra- why did she still look around, horrified? It wasn't that vivid. Just extremely.
She shook her head and rolled out of bed. She slipped on her slippers and made her way to her re-best-friend's room in the Academy.
Storm lay on her bed, her head resting on her arm, her nose scrunched up. She looked like a normal teenage girl- certainly not someone who was only half human, had nearly destroyed the world, and could fly. But she could, and Swan knew better than to judge a book by its cover.
"Wake. Up." She hissed at Storm.
Her eyes opened and she yawned. "What?"
Swan rolled her eyes and tugged at Storm's pajama sleeve. "Dream."
"Oh boy," Storm replied, getting out of bed. "Another? The same one? The grave?" 
"Yeah, what else would it be?"
"You know, you should really be less worried about this."
Swan felt her temper briefly flare. "I've had the same freaking dream every night for the past three months. You think it's nothing?"
Storm gave her a bemused look. Of course. Whenever Storm got mad at Swan, she felt on the verge of tears; yet whenever Swan got mad at Storm, Storm didn't even care. "Swan, we've dealt with more crazy things then having a recurring dream for a few months."
Swan bit her lip. Storm could shun the idea, ignore it, mock it- but what she couldn't do was convince Swan that it was meaningless. Because Swan knew this with unquestioning belief that the dream was important to her. Not just her. Her destiny, her future, her everything. The grave and the tree- they were going to change her life forever.
Now, if only she could figure out how.
**************
Swan shivered and wrapped her arms around her, hugging herself. After her visit with Storm, Storm had kicked her out- she was always grumpy at this hour, particularly when Swan woke her up for something she already knew, not saying Swan blamed her- and now Swan was back in her own dorm. As always, she'd forgotten that getting up in the middle of the night made it practically impossible to fall asleep again, particularly if it was cold, and this night, both were true.
She lay in her bed, expecting the night to have no more Zs for her. Oh well. Her sleep schedule had already been messed up, since she'd spent a week in a place that didn't exist physically.
She lifted her left hand in the air. White tendrils curled off it- her mindforce. 
Swan sighed and rolled over. Ever since they'd returned from their escapade, their mindforces occasionally flared for no apparent reason. And they hadn't seen any on their classmates in a while- only once, the night they'd arrived back in the Academy, had they seen any mindforce.
Her golden hair splayed behind her, spread out like a sun. 
She fidgeted her fingers. "Swan, pull yourself together." She whispered to herself. "Think. What could that tree be? Where is it? Who's buried in the grave?"
Her mind was sent whirling, coming to several possible conclusions, not many of which were pleasant.
"Why would I have it?" She muttered to herself. "It's part of my future of course, but how is it linked?"
She shook her head, brushing a lock of hair back behind her ear. She would figure it out soon. Destiny was destiny, and there was no point in deliberating about it.
Her eyes closed, and an instant later she was asleep.
Then the nightmare came again, and her eyes snapped open.
No longer blue and green, they were solid white and gold.
==Chapter 2==
Swan brushed her blonde locks out of her face and ran a blue hairbrush through them. It was painful to get the knots out sometimes. (A/N, Swan's experience with her hair length will be entirely based off my own. Why? BECAUSE.) Once or twice she'd considered cropping it to a shorter length, but she'd held off… for now.
Today, she would be participating in one of the Advanced Flier classes with Storm. They'd try to get their flight under control (HA) and hopefully soon some of their other classmates would join the girls. It was astonishing how slow the path to flight was. At least for full humans.
She put down her brush and ran her fingers through her hair. She scrambled down the stairs, hoping her hair looked slightly less of a train wreck now.
"Swan," came a voice.
Swan looked over. It was a boy, with gleaming hazel eyes and a mop of black hair. It was Cyril Roussel, the fourteen year old flight student, a transfer from France.
"Hey Cyril," Swan said cautiously. His French accent, while it was always there, became extremely prominent when he was nervous or scared. She was also ninety percent sure he had a crush on her. It was unrequited. He was nice and funny and one of her good friends, but Swan… she didn't like boys that way. 
"There's a guest," he told her. His accent was definitely stronger than usual. Oh no. His accent usually only grew that way when Swan had dressed up for a special occasion, and she certainly hadn't today. 
"You sound scared," she observed, trying to get the information from him directly. 
"Oh, for good reason." Cyril snorted. "What other emotion would you feel towards this person?"
Swan was curious. "What?" She cocked her head. "They can't be that scary."
Cyril snorted.
"Come. They want us to get acquainted, whatever that means."
She followed Cyril through the halls. She was more curious than ever now. Who was this new kid? Why were they here? And most pressing of all, why was Cyril scared of them?
The corridors were bright and painted in shades of gold as the sun rose, shining light into the building. The curtains on the windows were thin linen black and white.
"Here," Cyril grumbled, swinging open the door to the school office. The office was welcoming and with light, inviting colors everywhere. The secretary, Ms. Ashton, was standing behind the desk, filing some papers and whispering into the phone. Swan smirked. She had flown with no support but her mindforce, had saved and nearly destroyed the world, was the daughter of a queen… and yet she still attended a perfectly normal school with perfectly normal people. Boy problems and all that, though her problem was more that she didn't like them back then that she had some sort of stupid cliche love triangle drama going on.
Then her eyes fell on the visitor. The guy who terrified Cyril beyond belief.
Standing in the middle of the room was a goth.
Welp. Swan thought. Every time she thought that trend had died, it had another spike in popularity. 
The person standing was goth. Leather jacket, piercings, skull design--- yep. Full package. They had double toned hair, one black and one blond, and it was impossible to tell which one was dyed. Their eyes were different as well, one blue and one grey. Their skin was a neutral shade somewhere between cream and porcelain.
Swan rolled her eyes. Frick? She thought. Sure, goth was weird-looking. Disturbing, even. But petrifying? No. Either this guy had shown some especially menacing side--- which didn't scare Swan in the slightest--- or Cyril was being an absolute wuss.
The latter seemed more likely. 
"This." Introduced Ms. Ashton. "Is Agelaius. A new student. Welcome him."
"Her." Corrected Agelaius.
Swan bit her lip. Wow. A few seconds ago Agelaius had quite obviously been male--- now they were most definitely female. 
"Genderfluid?" She asked, walking up to her.
She bowed her head. "Yeah. Biologically male, but I don't care a fig. And you?"
"Cis female. My name is Swan." Swan answered. 
"Nice to meet you." He answered. 
Swan frowned in Cyril's direction. What was he talking about? Agelaius was nice, albeit extremely goth. This was not the first--- and certainly not the last--- time Cyril would be completely wrong about a person.
"Take me on a tour, please? I'd like to know this place better."
"No." Swan answered. "Don't get me wrong, I'd love to. But it's breakfast soon, and I hate to be late---."
She sighed. I understand. But can you walk me there? I have no inkling where the cafeteria is."
Swan nodded. She wanted to point out that she could just ask for a map, but she didn't want to be rude. "Sure."
She led her out of the office, and began chatting, telling her about the Academy's history, how it was built, why it was here, what they needed to know to fly.
Agelaius was a good listener.
By the time Swan had led her to the cafeteria, she was certain that if Agelaius had been paying attention, they now had more than enough knowledge to survive the Academy and achieve flight.
"Thanks for the tutorial." Agelaius said sincerely, bowing her head. "Hope you have a good day."
Swan nodded. "Same to you."
She stepped towards the cafeteria door, and smirked at Swan. No words were spoken, but Swan could hear a message like a whisper.
Here's a little something. I prefer actions, not words.
Abruptly a black and white mindforce blazed around Agelaius, and her smile turned cruel in the harsh mindforce light.
Then she ran her index finger across her throat.
The universal sign for a threat of murder.
==Chapter 3==
"God Swan, you look shaken." Storm snapped, rolling her eyes. "Snap out of it, will you?"
Swan's eyes blazed, but she shut her mouth. No point arguing with Storm. Once when they had been six, Swan had stolen Storm's beach pail and shovel, and Storm had had her vengeance. She'd learned her lesson since.
Swan rolled her eyes. "Has it ever occurred to you that I often have valid reasons to be upset?"
"Yeah." Storm replied. "But just because they're valid doesn't mean you have to ruin the day for everyone else."
Swan growled slightly, but she shut her mouth. Storm had a point. Maybe she really was bringing other people's days down with her sour expression.
Storm nodded, seemingly satisfied. She nudged Swan. "Besides, you need to focus on flying, not being a grumpy wreck of a lightforce princess."
Swan looked up. She smirked. Professor Risberg was entering. He was the Scandinavian scientist who had replaced Volante after what the Academy had called "untimely demise" (Swan and Storm knew the real story on what had happened to her). Risberg, unlike Volante, was not an insane villain who wanted to achieve world domination. He was an anxious wreck of a human being, rather. If he was human. After all they'd seen, Swan and Storm were in no position to make assumptions. 
"Hello, hello, girls." Risberg muttered under his breath, adjusting his horn rimmed glasses simultaneously. "Today, we'll be seeing how far and long you two can go. The results will be interesting indeed, and will be valuable in further research regarding the science of flight."
Swan bit her lip. Shoot. Was this going to be a race-type thing? If so, Storm would most likely win. They were of equal power overall, but Storm was way better at endurance and concentration. Swan flipped her hair back and stuck her nose in the air. If she was going to lose utterly to Storm, at least she could do it proudly.
Risberg led the girls to another of the many, many testing rooms they had set aside for the flight tests and experiments.
A long, vast, open room awaited them. It was massive. Maybe one hundred yards across. 
"Alright!" Risberg yelled. He reached towards his neck and pulled out a silver whistle. "One. Two. Three. Four. ATTEMPT TO FLY!"
Swan snorted. Attempt. Well, that was fair. Sometimes they failed at flight, others it took hours.
Storm closed her eyes and Swan saw a faint shadow of black gather around her fists. Swan quickly turned away and closed her own eyeballs. She really hoped her own mindforce was charging up. 
Then… 
Something happened.
Swan's eyeline was instantly filled with ghostly images that no one alive had ever seen.
Explosions of gold and silver shining mindforces. Two blinding pillars exploded from the earth and seared the eyes, temporarily blinding them.
Crouching in the bushes on the outskirts of a forest. Mud and blood covered him, but that didn't matter. They were alive.
Standing on a cliff, gazing down at the party hunting them. Mindforce flared around them. They grimaced. There was no way they'd be able to escape. They breathed on their palm, and mindforce puddled there. They formed a rope. They wrapped it around their neck and squeezed.
They lay down, unmoving. The search party stood around them, cheering. They threw them in a grave.
They opened their eyes, and they smirked. They'd never truly die. 
But they wouldn't open their eyes again for millenia.
The last sight they saw was a tree.
Swan gasped, opening her eyes. She was shocked to see she was already across the room and Storm was only about three quarters. Swan knew she'd have infinite bragging rights after this.
But that was the smallest thing on her mind right now.
Was it just her imagination…
Or had the tree in the vision looked suspiciously like the one in her nightmare?
==Chapter 4==
Swan gazed out at the full moon slowly rising on the horizon.
It was about an hour past curfew now. She knew she was most likely the only one still not lying in bed. She was wide awake, standing up, and had no intention to get on her bed anytime soon.
She squinted at the hook-shaped celestial body called the moon. Tonight was starless, but the moon would make up for it. 
She spun around, carefully scrutinizing her bed. Would she sleep or not? Maybe. But she had no doubt she would be plagued by nightmares.
She sighed. "Choices." She breathed under her breath. 
She turned back around and opened the window. She slipped out, carefully scaling down the rough material. Storm wasn't the only one who climbed the Academy sometimes.
The moment she stepped out and the moonlight hit her body, gold and white flared, spewing shiny rays across the floor. Swan swore. So much for being low-key.
"Oh well." She muttered. A ball of gold light formed in her palm. She lifted it up. She needed a lamp anyway.
The outside was empty. Devoid of sentient beings besides Swan. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the chirping of crickets. An occasional rodent scurried in the bushes.
Swan's face was lit up by the light of the mindforce. It gave her a sinister, ghostly, unearthly, and rather elegant appearance. And in that moment, minus the freckles, she was the mirror of her mother, Queen Dove.
She breathed in the cool, peaceful night air, filling her lungs. Fresh air always helped her focus.
"Nice moon tonight." 
Swan's eyes widened. Was there someone else disobeying the curfew?
Then it clicked in her brain who it was. The voice was fairly distinguishable.
"Agelaius, what the flip are you doing?"
They jumped off a tree branch and shrugged at Swan. Today Agelaius was male, Swan realized. "The better question is what you're doing."
Swan rolled her eyes. "You're playing the oldest trick in the book. Answering a question with a question."
Agelaius snorted. "Very funny."
Swan smirked. "Truce?"
"Sure."
"Alright, first things first. What are you doing here?"
"Nighttime stroll." He replied.
"Oh, really?" 
"Sassy." Agelaius noted.
"Suspicious." Corrected Swan.
"Fine line between suspicious and paranoid. One's a virtue. One's a curse."
Swan hmphed and crossed her arms. "If I don't shut up we'll just continue this witty banter all night, right?"
"Yep."
Swan sighed. "Well, I'd rather save this for later then go that route."
"Excellent choice." Agelaius responded. "Now for your side of this: what are you doing?"
Swan considered her options briefly. It didn't take her long to decide. There was no point in lying, Swan didn't have anything stupid or despicable planned. "Fresh air."
To her surprise, Agelaius didn't object. Merely, he drummed his fingers absentmindedly on a tree trunk. "Mhm."
Swan was tempted to throw up her arms in exasperation. She hated it when people replied with "mhm" or "kay" or something like that. It made her feel dismissed and left no room for more conversation.
Agelaius' eyes drifted off, his physical body staying on earth but his mind drifting elsewhere, obviously. He was also possibly contemplating his life decisions. It was hard to tell.
Swan remained silent. He was most likely waiting for her to fill in the lull in the conversation. Swan wasn't giving him that satisfaction.
Agelaius made a frustrated noise. It was clear he was now going to fill it in himself. "Good lord, you're infuriating. Why are all lightforce princesses all rebellious and sassy?"
Swan huffed. "Well, if you're going to act like that-?"
She swirled around and ran towards the natural wildlife area of the town. Far away from Agelaius. This wasn't stupid. Swan knew the natural area like the back of her hand.
Agelaius didn't follow.
It was only when she was leaving against a boulder, taking a rest, when a thought struck her.
How had Agelaius known she was a lightforce princess?
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