Ashes of Revenge

Raven walked into her room and saw Death leaning against the fireplace. Balancing on the tip of his finger was her sword.

“What are yeh doin’ with my sword?”

“Nothing, my dear.” Death pushed himself off the fireplace, and his finger left the metal. However, the sword remained where it was, slightly bobbing up and down in the air. “Just waiting for you.”

Raven unstrapped her over-shirt and threw it on the ground.

“That reminds me!” he exclaimed. “Today at the Market, you were excellent, my dear.”

Raven glared at Death as she began to remove her boots. She wasn’t particularly happy she had allowed - at least she thought she had allowed - him to manipulate her into doing it.

“Don’t look at me like that, my dear,” Death said with a smile. “You were the one who decided to do it.”

Raven remained silent, it would be easier to blame it on Death, but now she didn’t know who had done it. If what Death was saying was true, then she hated the fact he had been able to coerce her so easily. Too easily. The real trick was figuring out who was right.

“Don’t look so sad. It was a glorious sight.”

Raven stood up from the bed and walked to her floating sword. Taking her pointer finger, she placed it on the tip of the blade. It stopped bobbing and balanced on her finger.

“What?” Death asked. “You don’t like the idea of me not forcing you to do bad things?” He tilted his head to the side. “How many people have you killed with that sword? How much blood is on it?” Raven’s eyes looked at it but refused to answer the question . . . she couldn’t - she had lost count.

The tip suddenly sliced through her finger. Raven almost screamed in surprise at the sudden pain. Blood began to pool out of the deep slash, and she instinctively wrapped her other hand around it. She looked up at Death with an angry and annoyed expression.

Death leaned down until he was eye level with Raven. He reached down and grabbed her hand, separating it from her bleeding finger. Next, he wrapped his hand around the wound, and when he removed it, the cut was gone.

“What was that for?!” Raven exclaimed.

“I was adding your blood to the sword.”

“How tha bloody hell does that work?!”

“As I said in the cave before: an eye for an eye.” With a simple hand motion, the sword began to float again — the hilt on the bottom. Raven stared at the metal, mainly the tip of it where her blood leaked down the blade ever so slowly. The longer she stared at it, the more tired she grew.

Now, Raven wasn’t sure if it was Death or herself that was the reason for her being tired, sick, agitated, and all around different. Much like at the Market, it could have been either. But she didn’t like the idea of it being her.

She ripped her eyes away from the sword and made her way to the bed, sighing heavily as she sat.

“Come now, my dear, don’t be like that.”

“Then what do yeh want me to be like,” Raven murmured with a slight edge in her voice.

“Excited!” he exclaimed. “Tomorrow is going to be an amazing day!”

Raven’s hand brushed against her nose as she thought, just wanting to change the entire subject. “Why are yeh makin’ me do this?”

Death was silent for a second, almost as if he had to think about his answer. He eventually smiled. “I chose you because you’re the type of person that won’t stop until they get what they want. But since what you want is to murder one of the Five Kings.” He shrugged as a small laugh escaped his throat. “You and I are very alike in that respect.”

Raven chose to ignore the last part entirely. She couldn’t be as bad as Death, could she? He was lying. He had to be?!

“How will me succeedin’ help yeh or tha Monstro Kingdom?”

He shrugged again.

Raven internally groaned and cried. Somehow, her annoyance and hatred for him grew.

Death sat down on the bed next to her, his posture as straight as steel.

“Tha least yeh could do is answer my question,” she murmured, half joking and half being serious.

“I’m tired, my dear.” His voice was unexpectedly solemn and deeper. “I’m tired of watching these mindless disputes between five species. Five Kingdoms. Five Kings.” The light in the room flickered. “Life is a game and I intend to win.” A second after his words, he widely smiled, his white teeth glowing and his black eyes twinkling.

She didn’t know why, but she swallowed at his words. Honestly, she didn’t know what to make of his supposed answer - whether it was a truth or lie. There had to be a way to beat him at this alleged game. “Can I not go to sleep tonight?” Raven mumbled, somehow knowing that was all he would say on the subject.

“Anything you want, my dear.”

“Thanks,” her voice was barely a whisper, but Death still heard it. She couldn’t believe that she had just thanked him! After everything he had, and will, put her through, she was thanking him?!

“Of course, my dear.” Death could tell the war that was occurring in her head for thanking him, and he didn’t know he could reach these fantastic levels of amusement. “Do you want me not to accept your apology?”

“I don’t care.” The edge in her voice came back.

“Remember, my dear, you may perceive me how you wish. How you think of me will become my nature, simply because that is my nature.”

She ignored him once more, finding that her scuffed boots were very interesting.

Cold fingers grabbed her hands and tilted her face up, making her eye-level with Death. She hadn’t even noticed he had left the bed.

“Come now, my dear, the deal is to be completed tomorrow; surely, there must be something you want to do?” Raising his eyebrow, he awaited an answer.

The headache was back. Every second, it pounded against her skull. She feared her head would split open from the force.

“I thought yeh said I could do what I want.” Her voice unintentionally shook.

“I did, but I’m positive you don’t want just to sit.” His hand squeezed her face more. The voices rose in her head, but this time they weren’t saying anything; Raven was going to scream if she found out they were there to annoy her.

“Let go of me an’ I’ll think.” Her teeth ground together.

Death smiled and stepped away.

She had to admit, Death was right. She didn’t want to spend tonight sulking in her bedroom. There were things she needed to ask and clear up.

Without saying anything to him, she walked out of the room and down the hall. Death quickly joined her. She hoped the faster she walked and arrived at her destination, the quicker she could get rid of her headache and Death.

Raven finally stopped walking when she reached a massive set of double doors. She banged her fist against the wood and waited. When no one answered, she repeated the process until a concerned Dara opened the door.

“Is something wrong?” Dara asked, seeing as how it was the middle of the night, and she knew Raven wasn’t one for talking. The Queen’s white off the shoulder nightgown glowed against the darkness, even with the dark green vine-like design.

“Nope, I just have a few questions to ask yeh. . . .”

“Please, come in,” Dara said as she stepped to the side, allowing Raven to walk into the room.

Not much had changed from when her mum used to live in the Castle. The only real change was the paintings, now of Dara, the King, and Victor.

Dara closed the door and looked at a pacing Raven. Before she could even ask what the questions were, Raven spoke, “Why are yeh nice to me?”

Dara remained silent for a few seconds. Out of every question, that was the last one she had expected.

“I’ve been rude to yeh since tha moment we met, as well as yer son an’ Fernando. I have done nothin’ to earn yer kindness an’ neither have Richard or Colt. An’ yet, yeh invite us to tha Castle an’ allow us to stay. Not to mention I’m now a factor in possibly takin’ tha throne from yer son, it won’t happen, but still.” Raven looked at Dara, and her face was so soft and sweet that Raven didn’t know what it meant.

“I’m nice to you, Richard, and Colt because I figured not a lot of people are.”

“For good reason.”

“Everyone deserves kindness, even if they don’t want it.”

“Why are yeh makin’ this so hard?!” Raven exclaimed, running her fingers through her hair. For the first time, allowing Dara to see the destroyed scalp.

“What-.”

“I wanna hate yeh!” Raven finally admitted. “Yeh married tha King a month after I was taken. Yer son now has my crown. Why don’t yeh hate me so I can hate yeh?!”

Dare took her time processing the words before she breathed in. “I wish that things weren’t like this, I really do. I can’t imagine what you, or anyone in the group for that matter, have gone through. I’m sorry.”

Raven plopped down in a chair and looked at Dara. “So yer nice for tha sake of being nice?” She didn’t understand. If Raven were in Dara’s shoes, she would have thrown the stragglers into prison or simply killed them. “I don’t understand how yeh an’ tha King are married.”

Dara gave a faint smile, not really knowing how to respond.

“Do yeh really love him?” Raven accidentally asked.

Dara smoothed out her nightgown. “Yes, I do, and no, I didn’t just marry him because he’s a King.”

“Then, why did yeh?”

“I fell in love with his compassionate side.”

Raven froze and glared at Dara. She knew the King didn’t have one.

“When my husband died, Arthur came to my house to make sure we were ok and asked what we wanted in terms of funeral arrangements.”

Raven continued to glare at Dara. She hated that the King cared for two strangers more than he did his wife and daughter.

Dara noticed the glaring. “He was sad.”

“Yeh don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“I’m not just saying that . . . he was genuinely sad. The only reason he even considered marriage was because there was no heir to the throne.”

Raven thought for a second and nodded.

“Thanks for tha answers, sorry I woke yeh.” Raven stood up and began to walk out of the room. The answers Dara was providing her were making her angry and confused.

“Elizabeth.” Raven froze, and her hand twitched before she turned to face Dara. “If any more questions come to your mind or you just want to talk, I’m here.”

Raven felt as a new emotion washed over her. She wondered if this is what it felt like with her mum, or was she entirely off?

“I want yeh to know I say things I don’t mean, so don’t take ’em personally,” Raven said, completely ignoring the previous comment simply because she didn’t know how to react.

Before Dara could respond, Raven walked out of the room.

“That was interesting,” Death said. “Where are we going now?”

“Victor’s room.”

She banged her fist against the door, and shortly after, a more than sleepy Victor opened it. His hair was going every which way, and huge bags rested under his eyes. Before he could invite her in, she walked into the room and began to pace. He slowly closed the door and turned around.

“Questions, go,” Raven said.

“What?” Victor mumbled as he sat down in a chair. The night before, she had slammed him against a wall and yelled at him for being curious.

“I know yeh have questions; now is tha time to ask ’em.” At the aspect of this, he woke up more.

Death leaned against a wall and looked at Raven. She kept on surprising him.

“Can you teach me how to steal?”

“Not a chance.”

“Why?” Victor protested.

“Because Richard was right, yeh don’t need to. Stealin’ is fun, but tha amount of times I’ve gotten tha crap beat of me cancels it out.”

Victor observed Raven’s faintly dented nose, and his face fell when he realized she was telling the truth. “How did you meet Richard and Colt?” He decided it would be best if he moved on.

“In jail in tha Farian Kingdom. Colt was in there for stealin’, I was there because I was captured, an’ Richard had been there before either of us.”

“Why is the Farian King’s name scratched into the wall?”

Raven stopped pacing and walked over to the engraving, forgetting she had made it. Her thumb ran over it before she leaned her back against the wall, falling right beside Death.

“We were supposed to wed.” Her voice was more silent. “Tha Farian Kingdom was threatenin’ war on us an’ tha only way tha Farian Kingdom would sign another Peace Treaty was if I were to marry tha Prince. I refused.” Raven airily laughed, almost as if to stop from crying. “I didn’t want my kids to be a half-species, an’ I knew tha Mundus gene would purposely be blocked out by tha Farian one as tha generations went on.” Her hand brushed against her nose. “I don’t know . . . if I hadn’t had been so bloody aragonite, then I wouldn’t have been captured an’ my mum would still be alive.”

“You think you were captured because you refused to marry the Prince?”

“I know that’s the reason, I was told so from tha old King himself.”

The Farian King, at the time of her capture, was now dead. His son took the throne and announced his father had died in a fire. Since the Prince became King, the Farian Kingdom had begun to prosper once more, almost reaching the prosperity of the Telik Kingdom.

“Did you know my dad? He was the lead Knight that went with you to the Kingdom.”

“Last name?”

“Clopin.”

Raven remained silent for a few seconds as she recreated his face. “Yeah, I knew him relatively well.” He and Fernando were close, and he would sometimes babysit Raven with Fernando or tend to her whiny needs when she refused servants’ help.

“. . . How did he die?”

Death placed his hand on her head, the scene forcing itself into her brain.

The screaming.

The blood.

The death.

The overall chaos.

Everything was vividly, too vividly, recreating itself, and the headache came back with a vengeance.

She pushed herself away from Death and went to the crown and helmet. “He um. . . .” She trailed off, disoriented by Death’s mind invasion. “He didn’t suffer.”

“That doesn’t particularly answer my question.” Victor had never gotten word of how his father died or what happened to the body. Now that he was finally able to get at least one of the answers, he wasn’t backing down.

“It was an arrow.” She looked at him and could tell it wasn’t good enough. “When we were ambushed, he grabbed me an’ my mum an’ got us out of tha carriage. Instantly, we were attacked again.” Raven paused for a second and turned her back to Victor. “I froze. . . . I remember an arrow bein’ pointed at me an’ yer dad jumped in tha way.” Her eyes looked up to the helmet, and she breathed in a shaky breath. “It should’ve been me. Yer dad should still be with yeh. . . . I don’t deserve to be here an’ I’m sorry I took yer dad’s spot in life.” Her voice was beginning to get caught in her throat.

Victor looked down at the ground. “What happened to his body?”

Raven finally turned around and faced him, tears in the corners of her eyes, gleaming due to the oil light. “I don’t know. Once oll tha Knights were killed, me an’ my mum were taken.”

Death walked to Raven and gently placed both of his hands on her shoulders. “There, there, my dear.” Raven didn’t know what Death was doing, but she didn’t particularly like it.

“Sorry,” Victor said.

“I told yeh to ask questions.” Raven walked out of Death’s grasp.

“Do you hate me?” Victor randomly asked.

“What makes yeh ask that?”

“I’ve taken the crown from you. I know people who would kill for it.”

“I’m not particularly happy that yeh have taken tha crown, but I won’t kill yeh.” Both Raven and Death faintly smiled at the awkward, terrible joke.

Victor nodded.

A question popped into Raven’s head, “Do yeh even want to be King?” His answer wouldn’t change the groups’ plans, but she honestly wanted to know where the Prince stood. She could tell in the village they had been in that the state of it all was disheartening for him, and truth be told, she couldn’t blame him.

Victor looked up at her with a slightly surprised expression. “I don’t know,” he finally responded. “I want to say yes, but with the Kingdoms the way they are now, it’s difficult to say.”

“Fair enough,” Raven said as she studied him. She knew Royals and Nobles loved to feast on money and power, but Victor seemed content to starve. Maybe the two competitors weren’t so different. However, because he wasn’t power-hungry for the throne, when he did ascend, he wouldn’t be bloodthirsty. . . . He wouldn’t be able to send hundreds - thousands - of men to fight. Somehow she knew he would try to negotiate for peace, something the King had done using her. Her eyes darkened, knowing she couldn’t allow that to happen again.

“Any other questions?” she asked.

“How come you decide to answer my questions finally?”

Raven shrugged, and the right side of her mouth curved up into a smirk. “Don’t know.”

Victor found the corners of his mouth curling up as well. It seemed like she was back to her non-straightforward, non-answering ways. He couldn’t complain though, he had closure about his father finally, and Raven had answered all of his other questions.

“And Raven?” Raven raised an eyebrow. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent too, so if you ever want to, you know, talk or anything. . . .”

“Thanks. I’ll um. . . . I’ll keep that in mind.”

Victor gave a small smile.

“Sorry, I woke yeh.”

Before Victor could say anything else, his door closed, and Raven was gone.

He had no idea what to make of the late-night meeting with her - it was all together fast and random.

He looked to his dad’s helmet. “Thanks, dad,” he said in a silent voice.

Victor found it courageous that his father had died protecting others. He only wished if he were ever to perish, he would do as his father had done and die for a cause.

He stood and grabbed the oil lamp. Blowing it out, his room fell into darkness.

***

Raven and Death walked down the desolate, winding long hallways of the Castle.

“Where to now, my dear?”

“Lookin’ for Fernando.”

This time, Raven couldn’t seem to get rid of her headache, no matter how fast she walked.

“He’s guarding the throne room.”

Raven turned down another hallway and climbed onto a flight of spiral stone stairs. At the first chance to get off, she took it.

Opening the heavy, wooden doors, Raven walked into the throne room and almost gagged at how ugly she thought it was.

The floor was cobblestone with sparkling bits of emeralds throughout it, and a long, green rug ran down the middle of the room. The floor rose a step and created a platform where the thrones were stationed. One throne was gold, and the other was silver; green cushions were in the chairs’ backs. The golden chair was bigger and more elegant than the silver one: the King’s chair. Three gold and green Mundus banners hung behind the thrones, one in the middle and two on each side of it. Hanging from the high arched ceiling was a chandelier with emeralds throughout it.

Fernando was standing in front of a window, his hand on the handle of his sword. When he heard the door open and close, he turned and saw Raven walking to him.

“I’m sorry,” Raven said.

Fernando’s eyebrows knitted together. “For what?”

She breathed in deeply. “For treatin’ yeh like crap.”

“It’s ok.”

“Nah, it’s not.”

“Raven, I know you’ve been through a lot, and I understand now that you’re not that little girl who left me years ago.” She heard the pained note in his voice.

“That’s still not an excuse.”

“Maybe so, maybe not.” Raven looked up at Fernando, and he couldn’t help but look at her burned face. “May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Raven knew what it was going to be because he was staring at it.

“What happened to you and your mum? How did she. . . ?”

“Die,” Raven finished for him.

He nodded.

“When we were taken, we were thrown into jail. I in one cell an’ she in tha one opposite to me. I was starved an’ beaten.” Fernando felt as his heart began to break. Raven cleared her throat and looked down. “She just kinda gave up an’ died.” She said it as bluntly as she could, hoping that no emotion would reach her. But the sting in her throat told her that it already had.

Fernando felt as tears began to collect in his eyes.

“An’ I got tha burns in tha fire in tha Castle.” Fernando remembered hearing about it. “That was tha day I managed to get out of tha cell.” Raven airily laughed.

Fernando had so many more questions, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask them. The small part of the story Raven had told him was so unfathomable that he couldn’t possibly take anymore.

For one of the first times since being with Raven, he was finally seeing her vulnerable side. She sniffed before she brushed her hand against her nose and violently blinked away her tears.

Fernando quickly embraced her in a hug and held her tightly against him. Her entire body tensed, but she hugged back.

“I should have been there. I should have gone with you.” His face was pressed into the side of her head.

“It’s ok. There was no way yeh could’ve known. I don’t blame yeh.”

I blame tha King.

“I should’ve been able to know.”

They pulled away from each other.

“Please don’t put any guilt on yerself. Promise me, yeh won’t.” Raven sounded like she was commanding him, despite the unshed tears in her eyes and her body’s overall weakness. “Promise me that yeh won’t blame yerself for anythin’.”

Fernando nodded. “Ok, I promise.”

Raven nodded, relieved. “I’ve kept yeh from yer duties long enough. I just wanted to clear that up.”

“Thank you.” His dimples finally became fully visible. She nodded and walked out of the room.

Fernando stood there for a second or so before he bowed. Slowly rising, he walked back to his post.

He was glad she was talking to him and that it wasn’t full of spite or hate. However, their conversation had been too rushed for his liking. But, it was a start.

Fernando found himself smiling through the pain and sadness, hoping more conversations with Raven would come.

“Well . . . that was interesting,” Death commented.

Raven’s brain thudded against her skull.

Her body shook with each step.

The hallway became thinner and thinner.

Her vision became blurrier.

Her breathing was getting caught in her lungs and throat.

However, she had one more thing that she needed to do tonight.

Walking into her room, she grabbed her flint and steel before she opened up the secret tunnel and climbed up the ladder, using almost all of her strength to do so. Recalling and remembering her past was about to break her.

Finally, arriving at the room where Colt and she had gone to, she walked past the broken door. She grabbed the painting of the Knight, which she recognized as Victor’s father, and moved it to the side. Now, the portrait of Elizabeth, her mum, and the King were staring at her.

Taking out her flint and steel, she struck them together. The painting became nothing but a flame in a matter of seconds.

Raven watched as her perfect face became eaten by the blaze before consuming the rest of the canvas.

Death snapped his fingers, and the fire extinguished itself, leaving nothing but embers and ashes.

“Can I see her?” Raven asked as she stared at the remains.

“Of course, my dear. Would you like the actual body or the skin I would use? If it’s the skin, then I will have some control over her actions, but if it’s just the corpse, then she will have every minuscule ounce of free will.”

“The actual body,” Raven said

“If you do that, then she’ll look how she does at this moment,”

Raven remembered how Ida looked when Death had shed her skin.

There was a moment of tense silence.

“I’m sure.”

“Your wish is my command, my dear.”

Raven heard a noise to her side. She slowly turned her head to face the source, knowing what it would be. When her eyes finally landed on the cause, she nearly broke down. She was staring at her mum - the same decrepit body that Death had summoned in the cave.

Raven couldn’t bring herself to look at her mum’s decayed face, so she stared at the ground.

“Hey, mum.” Raven’s voice gave way. The creature outstretched its arms, and the daughter slowly walked into her mother’s embrace, feeling as the caved-in chest rubbed against her. However, the one alive thing was the heart, visible behind the ribs and tattered green dress.

They hugged for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry.”

The creature jutted back and looked down at her chest, where a dagger was sticking out, impaling the moving organ.

The corpse stepped towards her, and Raven stepped back. Raven’s mum began to stumble and falter before it fell on its knees. She looked up at an almost crying Raven and reached up its hand, trying to touch her daughter one last time. Raven outstretched her hand, but before their fingers touched, the frail woman dissolved to ash, only leaving the dagger behind.

Raven remained frozen for a second before her body began to shake. Her breathing gave way, and then her body. She fell to her knees as she began to hyperventilate.

A horrific, painful scream ripped past her throat.

Tears began to flow freely from her eyes, no longer being able to contain them. Her bandaged hand grabbed at the ashes that were her mum as her tears began to mix with them.

She screamed.

***

After sitting there and crying for so long, the headache was finally gone. Death had thankfully been silent the entire time, not even judging her for her breakdown.

Breathing in one of her last pants, Raven finally was able to calm down completely. The ashes of her mum . . . Eliza was stuck to her hand. Her eyes were now red and puffy, and her throat hurt, but other than that, she felt better than she had since arriving.

A cold hand gently tilted her face up to find Death kneeling in front of her.

“Any other requests?” Death asked. Raven nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment. “What is it, my dear?”

Raven sat back on her legs, but Death’s hand remained on her chin with his thumb moving up and down. “Colt and Richard,” she mumbled out in a hoarse voice.

Raven blinked.

Her feet hit the ground, and her body fell into a door. Looking around, Raven saw she was in the hallway.

The door pulled away from Raven, and she began to fall to the side, but arms wrapped around her.

Richard pulled her upright and looked at her. Instantly, he could tell that she had been crying. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he supported her more.

“I can’t sleep.” Her voice was thankfully coming out of the hoarse stage.

Richard guided her to the bed and sat her down. He kneeled and wiped away her tears with his thumb. Figuring it was the same nightmare as always, there was no need to ask what had happened.

Once done, he gently tucked a few strands of wet hair behind her ear. “Do yeh want me to get Colt?”

Raven nodded.

He stood up and walked out of the room.

The chances of Colt being awake from his own nightmare were high.

She looked down at her now clean hands and sighed.

Not long after Richard left, he walked back into the room with Colt. When Colt looked at her face, he nearly embraced her in a hug. Instead he and Richard sat down on the bed, Richard near the headboard and Colt on the other side of Raven. The Farian leaned back as his wings expanded, using one wing as a cushion of sorts, and the other laid on the mattress. He gently grabbed Raven, and she naturally fell back, landing on his wing. Colt followed suit, and they all laid there, staring at the ceiling.

“It will be morning soon, my dear,” Death said.

Raven sighed heavily. This night had gone by too quickly. Sure, she had gotten to say and do everything she could think to do, but even those events were scattered in her brain.

Raven curled closer to Richard as her hand fell to the side. Colt hesitated before he grabbed her hand. Her tense fingers gently squeezed his.

Raven knew in what felt like no time, morning would come, Colt and Richard would leave, the King would arrive, and Death’s deal would be completed.

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