Chapter 78: SHATTER

Risens wasted no time making his way through the city back to the Raven’s Court. Saving the girl, Aleth had delayed him, yet the timing was of little concern. The darkness of night still covered the city concealing his movements in shadows. He still had days before he would expected to give report to the castle.

He worked to keep his thoughts from straying to the reception ge would find. The only glimmer of hope that sparked in him was that he could finally bury his blades into the heart of the cursed Fendri.

Worry that the girl had seen him troubled his mind as he slunk through the darkened alleys. The more he considered it, the more he wrote off to trepidation. Who would she talk to that would believe her? Her words would be mere ramblings, no more believable, then the other wretches of the streets. No guard would take her seriously. No soldier would give her the time of day, shooing her off with the butt of their spear. Were she to show up at the castle gate, speaking of the mysterious vigilante that had saved her from the gangs in the alleys, none could believe her. She had no description of him save for that.

He was but a shadow. He wore all black. Risens was thankful that he’d kept the black cloth over the Shadows Shroud as the Lathrenon had now seen the mask. As perceptive as she was, he’d doubted she’d have noticed the intricacies of the blades that sliced through those who’d sought to hurt her. Similarly, the ravens that accompanied him we’re not known than any others in the King’s orbit. The birds were a known staple of the the city. Some fed them. Others called them friends, though to the majority they remained aloof.

As was now his custom, he had thanked the birds for their service before releasing them to wherever their wings would take them. They showed a duality that was confusing. One moment their talons racked at flesh as they pecked with vicious intent. They had gouging out the man’s eyes to free Aleth from the hands of the man who held her aloft. Moments earlier, they hopped, skipped and strutted under the tent, amusing the youngster of their own volition.

Yes, it was he who bore the Brand that commanded them. The Conspiracy of the ravens gave him the ability to summon them to his cause. Why would they then depart from the task they had been set upon to find the girl as she lingered in the greens of Excelsior? The thought crossed his mind that he had not given weight to previously.

Perhaps he had misread their intentions. Perhaps their purpose was not to comfort Aleth but to lead him to her. If that was true, why? The possibilities bloomed within his mind? They had crossed paths twice now in a short span of time, he groaned at the idea that at some point their courses would be intertwined again. In fact, he was disturbingly certain.

As with Dorchette’s gang, the ridding of another of the band of rabid predators that hunted the city’s streets was not something to be mourned. No one would miss the four who now rotted in the alley of the learner’s quarter. Their bodies would be found eventually, likely more as a result of the smell than by desire to locate the missing. They’d be burned unnamed. No parades of death would celebrate their untimely demise. The city streets that they claimed as their territory would be free for the time before another with wicked intent filled the void.

The Broad was quiet, as always. The dank, deteriorating alleys welcomed him in as he stalked through the shadows of the dilapidated building. He wondered what the district had looked like when they weren’t in disrepair. Why had the Bing ordered Broad to be cleared? Why had he forbidden anyone from visiting the Raven’s Court? The Shrine within the decrepit halls had never granted since the great King Adelhard. Why were people banned from its midst?

He was now aware of the secrets that it concealed. Mother Raven knew the truth and so did the birds had traveled the winds above the city. We’re more as informed as he was now.

Why had he been Branded, allowed access to the Roost when Lathrenon, the bearer of the Brand of the Bloodheir not?

Risens felt the reassuring presence of the Raven’s Court as he crossed under the crumbling archway. The dilapidated state of the sacred area imparted a peculiar feeling of emptiness. Somehow he felt hollow. It was a peculiar feeling he’d never given attention. Beyond the concerns for his own security it extended to the welfare of the architecture and building around him.

A piece of his mind cried out with remorse at the continued desolation of the hallowed space. A few steps in, he stopped as motion came from behind the side of the shrine. Mother Raven walked gingerly toward him, her arms folded behind her back.

“The winds pick up many things, fledgling,” she crowed. “Small glimmers of sunshine in the face of an overwhelming storm. Remove the cloth that mask your true form. Do not hide your face here.”

“I feel the tension,” he replied chastened as he pulled the black fabric down to his neck. The covering had served his purpose well to this point, though its presence was clearly offensive to his irascible guide.“As always, there are more questions and fewer answers.”

“Life, it seems is like that. Is it not.”

In the moment he felt like shouting, but we knew it wouldn’t get anywhere. Even simple comments were frustrating. Each inquiry received as vague an answer as the last, answered typically by more questions. Details were clouded by vagaries and cryptic responses.

Tempering his anger, Risens thought carefully about his response before speaking. Their interactions had been limited in both time and the scope. He strived to extract as much from this one as he could before she inevitably departed. Presently, there was one line of questioning that loomed larger over all others.

“The Conspiracy of Ravens, it summons the ravens to my aid, but how are they connected to the Shadow Shroud?” He inquired. “Are they bound to the Roost or are they bound to follow the bearer of the Brand?”

Mother Raven stopped her approach, her gaze hardening as she glared at him.

“The ravens do not belong to you,” she responded, her voice sharpening into a razor’s edge, much like the talons of the birds she defended. “They are their own masters. They respond to your call as they are intended to do. Though you guide their path, their own free will surrounds everything they do. They are neither your belongings nor your pets. They will respond to the one they trust. That is a bond that must be fostered. That trust is earned.”

She stepped in closed jabbing her finger into his face. Risens held his ground as she stabber the pointed nail into the metal mask that covered his face. The click that echoed through the Raven’s Courts sounded eerily similar the the sounds of the birds talons as they walked on the stone tiles.

“The sheer fact that you wear the Shadows Shroud is the only thing that allows them to respond to you. It is the key to everything. There is nothing without it,” she grumbled. “Forsake them and they will forsake you. Honor them and they will do your bidding at all costs.”

The answer was confirmation to the question that loomed around. They had chosen to lead him to Aleth. In the same way that any of the new skills, powers or items that had been bestowed on him were his to command their use would added to their abilities. Having only just forged their relationship, he had done little to earn their respect. They acted out of mere duty alone. It gave credence to their decisions.

The irony was chilling.

“Why is it that I can hear the blades? The talons that speak to me yet, not the birds, he questioned

“Just like you’ve been taught to see with over your eyes, you’ve been taught to listen with only your ears.” A touch of the agitation that had rankled her voice stilled. “There’s far more that the world will tell you, through more than merely speech if you truly know how to listen.”

“Then teach me.”

His entreaty was pointless as expected> The dull wind he carried her to the opposite corner of the Raven’s Court. A solitary feather floated down in her wake. He peered into the lifeless, stale pool that remained where the fountains had once graced the dilapidated court.

“You have been trained, reared since a child in the art of killing. Does it not make sense the weapons of your craft would respond to your call? That they would intrinsically know you and understand your motivations,” she responded. “The ravens, they are songbirds, you know. They hunt for their prey, though they are not birds of war. Not naturally, at least.”

The answer made sense in a way that was unexpected. His mind, his body, his whole being, had been trained for a solitary purpose. He was the King’s Rightmaker. His shadowed blade.

To was crafted to kill.

“The ravens that accompanied me led me to a girl hiding among the grounds of Excelsior,” Risens explained. “They hopped around at her feet as if they had known her forever. As if they knew she’d raise no alarm at my presence. Why would they do such a thing?”

“They are far more intelligent then most people give them credit for,” Mother Raven sighed. “Perhaps they saw something in her that you do not.”

She stared at him for a long moment. Her beady eyes looking out from underneath the feathered cowl that hung low. As often the case, her wizened face was expressionless.

Risens couldn’t tell if she was pleased or if the judgment she leveled on him was foul. She’d never expressed any open animosity, just cryptic honesty.

“You were sent a quest, were you not? One to retrieve an item that stolen, imprisoned for far too long. Do you have the egg?” She questioned.

He reached into his pocket to retrieve the relic that he had been sent to find. He withdrew his hands immediately finding the polished, angular crystal egg hot to the touch. There was no heat radiating through the fabric of his clothing, but to his fingers, it was heated to nearly scalding. Stealing himself against the unexpected warmth he carefully withdrew the egg as he walked across the Raven’s Court. Mother Raven was perched near the corner, idly poking the stagnant water that remained with a dead stem from the long-deceased garden. He passed the crystal from hand-to-hand to keep it from burning his fingers and palm. The identity of the dark shape that lurked within the crimson crystal, though silhouetted as it was remained elusive. Even at close inspection, he could see no clues beyond its thin shape.

Mother Raven stopped playing in the water, turning her attention to him. As he neared, the flash of recognition sparked in her eyes. A momentary widening of surprise and excitement crossed her normally pensive face. It faded as quickly as it came, reverting into her customary expressionless gaze.

“Ahh, For long I feared this day would never come. The day that the egg was returned to its home,” she remorsed. “Long has it been absent. Long has the ravens court suffered without it’s enduring presence.”

She stepped closer, bending down to inspect the relic. Her head tilted from side to side much in the same way he’d seen the ravens behave as they appraised the girl they found hiding beneath the tent.

She reached her hands out with an air of reverence.

“You have done well, fledgling,” she whispered. “May I?”

The sudden absence of the heat as he carefully placed the egg into her outstretched hands was alarming. The chill that replaced the warmth was immediate and stinging. Beyond the physical sensation, it felt as if something was missing. He wondered if this was the Raven’s Court felt throughout the long years that the warmth of the egg had been missing from its midst.

Mother Raven seemed not to be bothered by the heat that emanated from the crystal in her hands. She rolled it gently between her palms inspecting it from every angle possible as Risens watched closely. After carefully viewing the entirety of the item, she lifted it, holding it close to her face. He can see her mouth move as you whispered something his ears couldn’t distinguish. Just as it had when the ravens had gently prodded it with their beaks the shape inside the blood red crystal shifted. Its true form it was still hidden from his view but the movement was clear.

As she continued her silent ministrations the motions only grew more animated. It seemed that whatever was contained inside the egg bounded off the inside walls of the crystal.

Her mouth stopped moving as she held the egg up high for a moment. Risens was entranced by the crimson glass as it. Mother Raven held in front of the exposed face of the moon. A blood-red glow spread over the Raven’s Court covering every weathered stone in its crimson aura.

Her widened. A wild mixture mixture of pure excitement and the tinge of something that looked like remorse welled in the depths of her eyes. Her body tensed suddenly, the frantic emotion that trembled through her relaxed. The emotion that had churned in her eyes cleared. As if the precious idol was merely a piece of trash, she tossed fragile egg to her side.