Raven

  The manager zoned in on her, and looking between the two, assessed their similar states. “Both of you: get out,” he said, “GET OUT!”
  “Geez, no need to yell,” the boy mumbled. Still holding the handle to his now nonexistent drink, he stumbled away towards the door. Alsius, however, approached the crazed manager. “Sir, I paid for a room here,” she said firmly, “Anyway, I have nothing to do with that boy. It wasn’t my fault that he happened to fall on my table. I am simply an unfortunate victim.” The man glared at her, then seemed to do a double-take. Her stomach seemed to plummet as a look of disgust replaced the one of anger.
  “’Unfortunate victim’?” he repeated, scoffing. He spat at her feet then said, “Even if you weren’t screwing that boy I’d have no place for you here. Now get outta my sight.” Fury licked through her, hazing her gaze with a transient red before she managed to control herself. Clenching her teeth, she looked straight at the stupid man and said, “I still paid for a room.” He smirked, an action that forced her hands into fists, and said, “I don’t doubt it. Now get out.” She tried clenching and unclenching her hands before replying, “What?” She could see his own temper starting to rise. Pointing to the door, he said, “You whores got a brain in there?! I said Get. OUT!”
  “NO!” she yelled, unable to contain her fury, “I PAID FOR A ROOM!”
The man slapped her across the face and forcefully grabbed her arm, dragging her towards the pub’s entrance. She struggled and yelled in pain, forming her yells into words, “I paid for a room! I paid for a room! I PAID FOR A – oomph!” He threw her out onto the cold cobbled street, unnecessarily screaming, “OUT!” and then slammed the pub’s door shut.
  Immediately, she stood up and strode angrily towards the pub before being stopped by a hand on her arm. She flinched and turned towards – the boy. Great. He grinned at her glare and said, “I just want to say sorry for – for -” His less-than-adequate apology ended as the boy drifted off into unintelligible mumbles and dropped to the floor. A second later, Alsius could hear snores emitting from his evidently unconscious form. She scowled, but his comically sprawled out form did humor her somewhat. She sighed – now she had to do something. She was aching, undoubtedly bruised, and blood trickled from her head, but she knew it would be inhumane to leave him out there to freeze.
  She prodded him with her toe.
“Wake up.”
    Nothing.
She crouched down and pushed his shoulder.
  “Hey.”
He groaned, but snored on.
  “Wake up!” she pushed him so that he flipped over onto his back, but all she achieved was another bruise as he flung his out arm and hit her head with the empty tankard. She cursed as a few passerby laughed at her attempts. Choosing to ignore them, she quickly assessed her options. She looked back at the pub, then back at the boy. The pub. The boy. The pub. The boy. The pub.
  Giving a frustrated growl, she got up and strode back to the pub. “HEY!” she yelled, pounding on the door, “OPEN THE DOOR!” This went on for a few minutes until the manager finally gave up.
  He opened the door. “What?!” he growled. Wasting no time, she said, “Give the boy my room.” She had not expected him to acquiesce to her demands instantly, so the man drew no surprise when he repeated, “What?!”
  She had also deemed him a bit slow.
“You have an empty room, right? The one I bought just earlier today?” She struggled not to scowl. He just frowned at her, but since he did yell or slam the door in her face, she took it as a yes.
  She continued, “Since I’m obviously not using it, just give it over to the boy. It’s the middle of both winter and night, he’s drunk, and no one else is going to provide him shelter. Anyway, it would be bad for business if people found a customer frozen to death on your doorstep.”
  She could see him mulling over her words. It took an excruciatingly long time, but eventually, he grunted, “Fine. Whatever. But I’m not dragging that piece of crap up to the room.”
  She quickly nullified the problem with a hasty, “No, I’ll do that.” Then forcing a smile, she added, “Thank you.” He scowled. “Bring that boy in and leave quickly whore, before someone recognizes you and drive out all my customers.”
  He turned away, she flipped him off, and the boy suddenly grunted awake. “’S goin’ on?” he said sleepily – or drunkenly, there’s really little difference. “I got you a room at the expense of my pride, filthy drunk,” she muttered, wrapping his arm around her neck and struggling to hoist him up to his feet. Either he didn’t hear her or chose to ignore her, probably somewhere between the two, but either way, he didn’t respond to her comment.
  Once up the stairs to her room, she gratefully deposited her load onto the plain bed. He quickly fell asleep, and she regarded him with mild disgust. Then quickly and quietly she snuffed out the candle, walked out of the room, and closed the door to this fiasco of a night.

In the Fecund Country, year 29 of Emperor Milen’s reign, year 530 of the Old Era
Raven 12

  Raven, on the other hand, had just opened the door to hers. She descended steep stairs, herself scrubbed viciously clean and gaudily clothed, following a pompous-looking man who had arrived at her room, imperiously stating that “His majesty demands she join him for dinner.” Having, at this point, long surpassed her limit for shock, Raven simply took it in stride and trailed meekly behind him in silence.
  The odd pair detracted to just her as they arrived at an open doorway. Raven’s obviously reluctant escort loudly announced, “Slave Raven, your majesty,” and, ushering her into the chandeliered room, abruptly left.
  Raven looked around curiously. Having already toured the grandiose parlors that absolutely stuffed the emperor’s palace, this room was smaller than she had imagined, although as outrageously ornate. The sparkling gold chandelier was the adornment she first perceived, and with good cause – it seemed in danger of swallowing up the room it inhabited. However, once she had gotten over the imposing metal creature, Raven cast a quick glance at the long dining table, the plants blending with the walls, the hints of violet flushing the walls and ceiling, and the dead fireplace lurking in the shadows of it all.
  “Good evening,” came the emperor’s voice from the far end of the room. “Good evening,” she replied obediently, descending the considerable length of the dining table. He indicated the chair on his right – he sat at the head – and, command or not, she sat down.
  The two were silent for several moments, he staring at her and she gazing at the empty hearth placed slightly to her left. Finally, he commanded quietly,
  “Speak.”
  “I don’t know what to say, your majesty,” she replied, turning her gaze over to his. She actually did: the burning question of why. She had been asking this to herself the second she noticed his haunted eyes on her, and wanted more than anything to have it answered. But his pointless murder of her family solidified her fear of provoking any emotion from him at all; the constant proximity to him only increasing her anxiety of sudden and irrational death. She did not want to die.
  “And yet words flow from your lips,” he said, inexplicably amused. Struggling to conceal her wariness, she did not reply. “Speak again,” he said, somewhat sharply, as silence once again threatened to reign. She dared not ask a question, so simply stated, “I love the palace, your majesty.”
  Upon first seeing the gold, finery, glass, and crystals, Raven became so disoriented she felt she would either faint or vomit; but glancing up at the blinding sparkles of the chandelier, it was the first comment that came to mind.
  A spasm of anger seemed to cross his face, but it quickly went away. Calmly, he said, “I told you not to lie to me.” You said there was no need, she thought grimacing slightly. To him, she said, “I’m sorry.” Then immediately realizing these words as a form of confession, she quickly followed with, “I mean –“ but was interrupted by the arrival of the food.
  “Dinner, your majesty,” yelled the servant at the doorframe. “Enter,” he said lazily, his eyes never wavering from her. They lapsed into silence as the silver dishes were placed in from of them, the delicious aroma springing forth the ill-practiced saliva in her mouth. However, once the steaming heaps of unknown yet heart-wrenchingly scrumptious foods were neatly arranged, Raven waited. She had never having eaten at a table before. Was she supposed to wait for something?
  Apparently so, because at that moment, the emperor waved his hand unnecessarily at the feast before them, saying, “Eat.” While she resented being given the command like a dog, although she, as a slave, was lower than one, Raven nevertheless eagerly and ravenously dug into the pile of food.
  She ate as if it was her last meal, consuming everything from the meanest stick of celery to the juiciest piece of meat. One thing, however, gave her pause: his majesty watching her scarf through her plate, his own untouched, just as greedily as she ate her dinner. It was immensely unnerving.
  Finally, she could not take it anymore. Swallowing a baby tomato whole and suppressing a burp, Raven said, “Aren’t you eating, your majesty?” He seemed to snap out of some daze. After a short pause in which he glanced at the nearly empty table and the object of his dinner-long study, he abruptly said, “That’s enough. Return to your room.”
  Deeply afraid that her enthusiasm had affronted him in some way, and growing a little nauseated, she timidly acquiesced and quickly walked out of the place. Once in her room, Raven ran to her private bathroom and threw up what seemed to be every morsel of food that had ever passed her lips into the tub.
  Feeling shaky, clammy, and definitely sick, Raven crawled out of the revolting smell of vomit and collapsed in her bedroom. The carpeted floor felt as comfortable as any softened piece of ground, and, content in resting there, she silently mused on her situation.
  Vomiting aside, this style of life had always been, for her, unimaginably phenomenal; a life not even her dreams had dared stray towards. But she could live that life. She could learn to control her eating, an ironic thought, and live easily for once.
  That was assuming, however, that the emperor wouldn’t change his mind. She definitely didn’t trust that – there was no other word for it – crazy man. However, his intentions were hard to determine. He bought her as a slave, but gave her a fairly furnished, private room. He was the emperor, but allowed her to eat with him, and, even she knew, messily at that.
  And he killed her family.
A chill went through her, enhanced by her recent bout of retching.
The man that had provided her with food and shelter was an insane murderer.
  Huddling tiredly yet uneasily on the carpeted floor, she reluctantly closed her eyes with that last musing. She will be wary under his roof, she thought determinedly, but for now….sleep closed the scene.

In the lands of Acror, year 51 of Emperor Lebinus’ reign, year 242 of the New Era
Alsius 14

  Alsius walked back down the stairs of the pub after ridding herself of the boy, thinking of where she herself could find shelter from the freezing winter night. Then it started.
  “Finished screwing that boy, bloodscrewer?”
She involuntarily stopped on her way to the entrance, cringing at the disgustingly popular insult. To no one in particular, as she had no idea who had spoken, she said through gritted teeth, “I didn’t have sex with him, so why don’t you shut your ignorant mouth.”
  Someone shoved her hard from behind so that she fell to the floor with a yell of shock. She turned angrily around to see a young man’s scowl directed down at her.
  “If you’re going to lie,” he said scornfully, “I suggest you pick your moments, bloodscrewer. That boy was drunk enough to screw a chair, much less you.” The remaining words were so obviously implied they were not spoken: of course a whore like her would never pass up such an opportunity. Her hands balled into fists. Standing up furiously, she said, “Why don’t you – “
  He shoved her again, though this time she did not fall. Undeterred by her stability, he said, “Simply possessing a mouth doesn’t give you permission to use it. With so many rats running through that – “ Just as she did to her father so long ago, she stopped the man’s words with a forceful slap across his face.
  However, unlike the echoing silence that had followed her first great defiance, this sneering surrounding instantly erupted into screaming indignation:
  “You’ve really the nerve to touch a man?!”
  “Go back to screwing the gutter rats!”
  “Did that black blood choke the stupid drunk?!”
  “You should have gone to hell with your demon-child!”
Someone viciously tore at her hair, painfully yanking her into the suddenly maniac mob as she struggled and yelled and fought and cried.
  “Blood-eating slut!”
  “Sick bloodscrewer!”          
  “Gore whore!”
  “Whoring witch!”
For a panicked eternity, she felt fury on all sides; it would not end, it would not end. Then came harsh screams, a slapped face, cold stone, a slammed door, and finally, silence.
  Alsius lay sobbing.
Sobbing, sobbing, sobbing – then true silence. Slowly, painfully, she stood up. The world still blurred with her falling tears, but through the darkness Alsius stood. She was utterly, excruciatingly, absolutely, alone…but this, for the moment, did not matter.
  The pub did not matter. The manager did not matter. The insults did not matter. The looks did not matter. Rudis did not matter. Her father did not matter.
  They would not matter. They will not matter. They will not, they will not, they will not.
  Sighing, Alsius slipped into a make-shift bed of leaves in the nearby woods.

  They don’t.

In the Fecund Country, year 31 of Emperor Milen’s reign, year 532 of the Old Era
Raven 14

  Raven sat in a mess of scattered food, splintered wood, and broken china. She herself had huddled into the corner of the dining room, staring, not at the jumble of carnage before her, but at that perpetually empty hearth. In seeming ignorance of her blooming bruises and trickling cuts, there her gaze and attention lingered; mesmerized, entranced. Her focus was, however, rudely interrupted by one of her fellow slaves.
  “His majesty’s callin’ you, Raven,” he said nervously, glancing quickly around at the room’s destruction, “Better hurry.” Steeling herself, Raven stood up, ignoring the slight pain, and silently walked past the messenger. Raven traveled those familiar steps to the emperor’s chamber, but the voyage was filled with intense apprehension that only increased as she came closer and closer to her destination.
  Finally, she arrived before the dreaded door. There was no avoiding the inevitable: she opened it.
  He was standing by the window, looking through it. Raven did not understand why he would – it was pitch black out there. At her appearance, however, he closed the curtain, as if concealing something indecent, and walked over to her. “Raven,” he said, calm. She immediately relaxed at his tone. “Yes, your majesty?”
  He looked her over clinically and…was that….sadness that crossed his features? Why – ? Her thought was thoroughly shocked into silence by his next words: “I’m sorry.”
  By now he was uncomfortably close to her, and she tried not to flinch away from him as she struggled to hide her utter surprise. “It was my fault, your majesty,” Raven ended up saying warily, “I apologize – “
  “No!” he said fiercely, grabbing her already bruised arm. She flinched, but he did not loosen his grip. His gaze, however, did soften, and with his other hand he pulled her even closer to him.
  Then he kissed her.
And a battle immediately roared into existence within her:
  Her lips were in ghastly contact with a murderer.
  Then he would surely kill her if she struggled against him.
  But would she really sacrifice virtue over cruel life?
  Virtue wouldn’t matter anymore if she were dead.
  What’s the point of living a crushing and obsequious life?
  To have the chance to live.
The conflict clashed back and forth, neither conquering the other – each armed with endless counterarguments. 
  The result was her complete immobility in the emperor’s arms.
  He, however, pushed his lips deeper against her frozen ones, sparking panic and the fleeting victory of the second instinct.
  She kissed him back.
  Perhaps he misconstrued her squeak of distress in that moment as a moan of passion because, right after, he picked her up in his arms and placed her upon his bed. Blinding panic threatened to overwhelm her as the intense anxiety of indecision increased tenfold. The internal war reduced to two rapid and powerful words: Virtue. Death. Virtue. Death. Virtue. Death.
  Then with a different kind of alarm, he noticed. However, to her momentary relief, he responded not by fury but with the cessation of his kisses. “Raven…” he said. She could not tell if it was warning or worry. If he had not apologized to her before, she would have believed him incapable of the latter emotion. Now, she knew nothing.
  “Your majesty,” she said at his pause, deciding to throw caution to the winds, “Why are you doing this? I d-don’t – “ her lips started to form the words ‘want this,’ but her courage was failing, and instead she heard herself say, “understand.”
  He looked at her, clearly bewildered, thereby bewildering her, and in a voice that hinted at disbelief, he said, “Because I love you.”
  The shock was complete; paralyzing and numbing all at once. Seeing his, he said in a confusion that in no stretch of the imagination paralleled hers, “You did not know?” Looking at him in complete disbelief, Raven thought of answers from “Of course I knew.” to “Are you kidding me?” to “How the hell was I supposed to know?!” to just “No.” “I-I didn’t know, your majesty, I’m sorry,” she finally replied. He moved off of her, to her relief, not the least being because his weight was bringing pain to her bruised form.
  She also sat up, fighting the urge to shift as far away from him as she could. After a blissful moment of complete silence, the emperor asked, “Then why did you kiss me back?”
  “I…” was afraid “don’t know.”
  He took one of her trembling hands, those ceaseless betrayers, and said, “Would you kiss me now?”
  “I don’t know.”
  This time, she truly did not. The bloody battle tore her apart into two extremes and she could not yet reconcile them into one decision. Virtue? Death? There was no answer.
  “Well,” he said, sounding and looking disappointed, “I will not force you. Not you.” Raven struggled not to regard him incredulously, as she knew this could cause him to take offense. She did not want him to suddenly rescind his offer of refreshingly uncharacteristic generosity. “Thank you,” she managed to choke out through her concealed surprise. This night was simply full of them.
  He smiled at her and lightly kissed her hand. The strain from suppressing her mounting shock was sure to soon break her, though for now she hid it well. Her hands barely shook. “So,” she said, breaking the, not awkward, but definitively weird silence, “May I leave now, your majesty?” She half-indicated to her captured hands, but he did not let go. Rather, his grip on them tightened, and he replied, “No. Spend the night and the next morning here beside me. I have…missed you. So much. You…Raven, you cannot understand just how much.”
  His words confused her, and she could not contain the small leak of confusion that revealed itself upon her features. However, she knew her place and quickly acquiesced to his demand – unspeakably relieved that he had ordered her to sleep beside him and not with. Completely disregarding her cut, disheveled, and frankly unclean state, he pulled back the covers of the bed and ushered her in. He followed and, after shutting off the lights, enclosed her in his arms.
  The sudden darkness did nothing to allay her deep fear as she lay trapped in the arms of what she had always believed to be her mortal enemy. However, a few hours following his first snore, her heavy lids overcame her racing mind and gradually carried her to unconsciousness.

In the lands of Acror, year 51 of Emperor Lebinus’ reign, year 242 of the New Era
Alsius 14

  Alsius woke up to streaming light. Although a beautiful sight to a waking mind, the hard ground on which she lay captured more of her attention – to her displeasure. Groaning, she shifted the scattered leaves off her stiff body and attempted to stretch away the night-long discomfort. Kinks in her joints cracked harshly against the innocent morning songs that filtered through the light woods, and after a few blank minutes spent lying on nature’s floor, Alsius regretfully got up. Her shameful bed disappeared the second she moved away from it, though she mentally noted its relatively comfortable spot.
  For only a few minutes she walked through the woods, then like an otherworldly wanderer Alsius emerged from the trees into gray civilization where she was determined to find some nourishment.
  It had been so long.
Traveling the still waking streets, Alsius bitterly reflected upon her ruined plan for finding food the night before. That stupid drunk, she remembered, much more acidly now that her rumbling stomach reasserted its presence. She had spent the last of her money on that ridiculous room, reasoning that leftovers would be easily found in a pub. What a stupid reason.
  Desperately grasping at her growling belly, Alsius wondered of her options. She had already sold off every valuable and invaluable belonging she had chanced to carry with her when being kicked out, leaving only her stolen rags. She was not above begging, but by now most would know that she was in the area, and generosity would be thin even if she mustered up a disguise. She was not an adept thief either. Anyway, amateur though she was, even she knew not to go poking around in the brightness of morning; while everyone was just waking from their slumber no less.
  With no other option forthcoming, Alsius soon found herself rooting through the dumpster of a nearby alley. For over an hour she looked, but came up only with a fly-infested pie, some rotten meat, and…an apple. A whole, complete apple.
  Delighted, Alsius grabbed her prize and walked away from the cornucopia of decaying mess, unable to swim through its contents any longer. Compulsively wiping the unharmed apple on her filthy shirt, Alsius slowly ate through it while walking the now people-infested streets. In keeping her head down, she doubted whether any of them could have recognized her in her current state; however, she refused to bow to these people. Subsequently, a bubble of isolation seemed to form around her, with scathing looks its main component. She tried to ignore it.
  A thing suddenly smacked into her head, splattering her face on contact, and Alsius fell. Dizzy from the hit, or the toxic dumpster fumes, or the walking around, or the lack of sufficient food or drink, or the combination of them all, she could not get back up.
  A barrage of what she recognized as water balloons then followed, pummeling her while she was down, and other objects soon imitated their example. Bruises and cuts mounted on top of the ones she had received the night before, and still she could not rise.
  The cowardly beating eventually ended, the attackers growing bored at her lack of resistance, and although an odd object would occasionally fly towards her as someone passed by, she was generally left alone. Chilled to the bone and aching throughout her body, Alsius struggled to emerge from the mound of random weapons that had assailed her, forcing herself not to search for food among them; or for her glorious apple, which she had dropped at the first assault. She could hear some other poor soul foraging through the contents nearby, and she paid him no heed, focusing solely on her current task. Suddenly, however, a hand grabbed her own, pulling her to her feet. She shouted out at the abruptness and the accompanying wave of dizziness, terrified at the newcomer but too weak to fight.
  “Lady Alsius?” 
She stiffened with shock at the name. “Get off me,” she growled; anyone who knew her true identity, she knew, would not wish her good will. He – whoever he was – did not follow her command. Although she had not really expected him to, she felt a plummet in her stomach all the same. “Can you stand on your own?” the man replied. She could not. “Go away!” she yelled with as much strength as she could muster. Alsius struggled against him, and to her surprise, he let go.
  She dropped onto the floor. Cursing herself, Alsius used the nearby wall to crawl her way up, determined to meet the stranger eye to eye.
  Adding to her annoyance, she discovered that one of her eyes was sealed shut.
Great.
  She still had full use of the other, however, and with that she accomplished her goal. Staring straight at him, Alsius saw piercingly clear blue eyes, soft blond hair, and a thin mouth.
  She stared at and absorbed all these features in her first cursory glance, yet in that glance, she felt a strange tingle of familiarity.
  She looked closer. His mouth was currently curled down in worry, and she found herself appreciating his concern; she suspected his innocent air of playfulness also emanated from this organ. She could accept this certain pity. Anyway, it was not the mouth that really worried her, but those blue eyes. She would have likened them to ice if they did not hold such warmth.
  These attributes stirred no memory yet Alsius knew she knew this boy…this boy….boy…gasping, she almost fell back to the littered floor in shock. It was the boy.
  “You - !” she started furiously, though her lightheadedness took away some its ferocity. “So it was you,” he interrupted. He had the nerve to look disgusted and ask, “I-I didn’t have sex with you right? I remember being outside, but I woke up in the pub room…” She had originally decided to keep a dignified silence after her impulsive outburst, but his look infuriated her. “No I didn’t have sex with you,” Alsius spitted acidly. “Oh,” he replied, looking insultingly relieved, “Thanks, I just – “
  “Get away from me.” His insolence was the last thing she wanted deal with right now.
“No,” he said innocently, not backing off in the slightest, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean – “ He cut himself off. Unable to hold herself up any longer, Alsius had fallen down yet again. She felt relief from the pain of her struggle but also intense irritation at her weakness. In the pause of his speech Alsius yelled out in frustration, and this was unfortunately accompanied by another wave of severe hunger.
  Without her consent, Alsius’s eyes briefly roamed around the objects surrounding her, and unwillingly she thought, there has to be food in there somewhere….but she quickly shook her head against this temptation. As a precaution, Alsius tucked her arms tightly around her, restraining them from the beckoning mess.
  “Are you okay?” the boy asked, reaching out to her as she fell. At her following glare, he quickly retracted his hands and hastily added, “My lady?” She flinched in annoyance at the address. However, Alsius wavered in her anger for the boy and almost asked him for food and drink. So close...please…but pride does not surrender.
  “Yes,” she answered, though her voice cracked, “Now leave.”
He took a step forward, “I can help you, my lady.”
  “Stop calling me that,” she said sharply, holding herself tighter. “I’m sorry, my – uh, Alsius. Anyway, you look badly hurt, and since I remember, um, crashing into you last night – “ Her impatience and frustration growing, Alsius swiftly interrupted him, “Thank you for your concern…whoever you are, but I can take care of myself. I only require an official apology for the night before.”
  This she said, however, with another growl of her stomach her resolve again wavered. The word unwillingly passed her lips: “Unless….” The boy had dimmed at her flat rejection, but perked up at this word.
  “Unless…?”
Looking at his eager eyes, Alsius struggled with herself for a moment. With a third yet most distinct rumble of her stomach, she finally came to a decision and sighed. There was no need to starve to death over pride.
  “Unless you have some food and drink to spare?” she asked, refusing to look away in shame. The boy seemed taken aback by this pleading, provoking a flush to creep its way up her face; however, he quickly recovered and answered, “Yes, of course! There’s a restaurant – “
  “No!” she cried. People were the last thing she needed. “I – where’s your house? Can we not eat there?” “Um,” he replied, looking uncomfortable, “There’s better food at the restaurant…” “But I’d rather – “ she started, but then she understood.  How could she not after two torturous years? The insults rang back, keeping alive the tale of the royal rapist. He was afraid of her.
  “Why and how would I have sex with you?” she asked wearily, “Are people in Acror really this stupid?”
  The boy looked at her sharply. “That’s not what I meant.”
Alsius looked to the floor. “No,” she said quietly, “I know what you meant. Like everyone else in this world, you ignore the image of a starved, ostracized, and beaten woman and see only the infamous Lady Alsius: Bloodscrewer. Bloodeater. Gore whore….Lilith.”
  She closed her eyes. “But I hated Rudis; I never even sought his company. That day, when the rape occurred, I did not even seek his company then, though what my-the king said was not a total lie…It was the third anniversary of my mother’s death. I had shut myself in my room for the day; to mourn alone, as neither the king nor Rudis had ever seemed to care. However, I came out once; at night, when I believed everyone was sleeping. I was hungry. And stupid…I was walking and saw Rudis’ light on. On in the dead of night, and I couldn’t leave for curiosity….So I pushed open his door a little bit….and saw my friend. Yesenia Ekin of Dorme. She and I were supposed to depart for the kingdom of Liliana in a few days, and she had never met Rudis – to my knowledge. But there she was…he-he seemed to be aggressive towards her, and so I opened the door fully and intervened on her behalf. She left while we yelled at each other...and testified later that I voluntarily entered Rudis’ room. The ungrateful traitor. If I had never seen that light, I wonder if she would be sitting here in this street instead of me.” Suddenly, Alsius laughed bitterly and opened her eyes. “No, her father is not as benevolent as mine; the king who sacrificed the lives of his daughter and her son just to give his bastard heir an edge in society. How I wish that sacrifice had been in vain, but everyone loves the victim…” Alsius breathed in deeply as if surfacing from some depth, and looked back at her audience. Her eyes narrowed. “Forget the apology,” she said, her voice now sharp, “Just leave me be.”
  There was a pause. He did not leave. Instead, he sat down next to her. “That’s not what I meant,” he repeated, and she looked at him, confused from both words and actions. “What are you – “ “I –uh – actually don’t live here. In Acror. I arrived last night, and I haven’t had a chance to find lodging since being kicked out of Eleanor’s. So…”
  “So you don’t have a house I can eat at,” Alsius finished for him, but, despite a ray of embarrassment and hope, she regarded him suspiciously. “But you’re just a boy. Why were you all alone at Eleanor’s yesterday if your family doesn’t live nearby?” He smiled. God, it had been so long since she had seen a smile. “Ever heard of a runaway?” he answered.
  “Runaway?” she repeated bewildered, “You?” It was not as if he looked immaculate; however, behind his disheveled state and persistent odor of alcohol, there was something…off. Alsius continued to scrutinize him and noticed that his clothes seemed…different. When he smiled too…his teeth were…too white. Before she could go further with her inspection, however, he interrupted saying, “Yeah, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”
  He paused, looking at her with a strange expression. Then he added, “I’m…Alsius, I’m also sorry for every hardship you’ve suffered. I feel…sorrow and admiration for your endurance of peoples’ cruelty and stupidity. I was cruel and stupid too, immediately assuming and never reasoning, and if there was any way that I could earn your forgiveness, then I would take that road.”
  Alsius was stared at him, stunned. “You…believe me?” Did she believe him? “I do,” he replied, “Of course I do.” It was as if he had embraced her with his warm gaze and warm words. Inexplicably, a lightness quite unconnected with her dizziness filled her, and Alsius could not prevent the escape of one small smile.
  “Thank you,” she said quietly. The boy bounced quickly back from his brief solemnity, and responded with a glimmer of banter in his tone, “I’m also terribly, terribly sorry for crashing into your table and stealing your room last night.”
  She smiled wider. “I said to forget the apology.”
Despite their sudden amiability, however, Alsius felt obligated to continue her inspection, and asked, albeit more kindly, “But how did you know me then, if you come from a different kingdom?” He picked up an object from the mess, and, to her slight surprise, she saw it was her apple. The boy bit into it. He chewed upon his bit of her lucky apple as he answered, “You’re pretty well known among…other kingdoms.” Here he swallowed and continued, “I hazarded a guess that the woman mass-attacked by fruit, balloons and whatever else surrounding us right now was you. Anyway, with everyone telling me I had sex with you last night I knew you were in the area.”
  “Pretty well known…” she muttered to herself. Just how far away was his kingdom?
“What?” the boy asked curiously. Alsius answered quickly, “Nothing.” Shaking out of her fleeting reverie, she continued to say, “I accept your explanation and apologies. Thank you…for your company and your kindness. You have no idea….” She faded off, unwilling to say her next words, but she quickly cleared her throat and continued, “However, I really can’t go to a restaurant. I suggest you just leave now, for your own social safety. People already believe I screwed you, and this really won’t help matters.” He simply smiled, not leaving. She was glad. “This?” he asked. “Talking to me,” she answered flatly, “Being seen with me.” “Do you think I care what those people think?”
  “Everyone cares.”
  “Even you?”
  “Especially me.”
He gave her another strange look. “How about this,” he finally said, “I’ll go buy something to eat at the restaurant and bring it over to you. Okay?” Alsius thought it over and concluded that she had nothing to lose. “Fine,” she replied, and he was gone in a second. A crushing sense of loss nevertheless overwhelmed her, and she gasped at this sudden despair. The street darkened and she fell to the ground. She fainted.
  In just a few minutes, however, Alsius regained consciousness and the world began to clear as she blinked away purple spots. Groaning with the effort, Alsius got up; pining to lie back down on the frozen floor. “I can’t…” she muttered, gripping at the wall. Death by starvation would not be her end.
  Shivering, she added to this thought, “By cold? Maybe.” Her head swirling with the dancing spots, Alsius stumbled

In the Fecund Country, year 31 of Emperor Milen’s reign, year 532 of the Old Era
Raven 14

  Raven woke up in semi-darkness. She could see the sun rising through the closed curtains, but the room clung to the night. Wait. The room? Raven almost flailed in panic as she remembered the events of last night, but was instantly constrained by arms that-that belonged to the emperor. She froze, convinced that her drumming heart would rudely awaken the historically violent man. With bated breath she waited….but only soft snores met her fearful patience. Relaxing slightly, Raven quickly decided against escape, taking the chance that he would be more angered to see her gone than present. Once this decision had been made, Raven reluctantly chose to fall back asleep, struggling to ignore the pit of anxiety that sprung from her unprecedented proximity to her enemy. Indeed, it was not only unprecedented, but downright odd and nerve-wracking.
  She tried to feel as warm and as comfortable as she had in the few seconds of disorientation between sleeping and waking, but anxiety continued to poke and prod her discomfortingly. Sleep, as a result, eluded her, and she found herself reflecting instead.
  What had happened last night?
They had dined together as usual, each focusing on their separate objects of interest; she her food, and he her. It had been silent. As she was finishing however, that anxious silence startlingly shattered with an empty dinner plate, which the suddenly livid emperor had groundlessly flung at the opposite wall. Raven had frozen in the act of wiping her mouth, her mind immediately racing for an acceptable plan of escape when he then completely and unreservedly exploded. He sprang up yelling to her insensible phrases, demolishing the room; even extending his fit of physical violence towards her. She could feel the ghost of his vice-like grip bruising her arms and throwing her to the floor as she remembered; the fact that those very same hands now wrapped around her did nothing to dispel this sensation. However, that certain aspect of the previous night did not truly shock her. Raven had been forced to dine with the emperor every night for two years now, and these wild fits – though frightening – did happen. No, it was the following events that demanded most of her attention.
  He had kissed her. He had told her he loved her.
But…that was impossible. She must be trapped inside some horrible nightmare, one that would end just before she faced a horrible death. He cannot love her, not when she so detested him, not when she so feared him. He would kill her if his irrational love went unreciprocated…..
  Yes, he had always given her a peculiar attention – ever since her first entering slavery – but that had lessened somewhat over time. He had long since taken away her lavish room and moved her into the proper slave quarters, even subjecting her to the mercy of the slavers.
  Yes, they had spent copious amounts of time alone at dinner every night, but they usually dined in silence; only occasionally engaging in shallow conversation. Indeed, rather than enforcing a comforting familiarity, he often grew angry, even furious, though to a lesser extent than the previous night.
  Yet, he had kissed her. He had asked her to sleep beside him. Lastly, she could not think of a rational reason as to why he would say he loved her if he did not. Of course, the emperor was not the most rational of people, but his often emotionally based actions supported this supposed love.
  Either way, however, the crazy emperor was focused on her in some fashion. But this she had always known. Now, she had to survive not just his regard but his love.
  But why? Why?
His shocked face filled her mind. She knew it started there; that expression he had worn when he first saw her. She remembered that odd recognition; odd because it couldn’t have been recognition. They had never met before then. Did they? Her thoughts sifted through the years as they had so many times before; through his rambles, through his actions, through her own childhood memories, but none of it made any sense. Her life here had never made any sense. He always spoke intimately with her, acted as if they had known each other for years, even murdered her family, but there had never been any cause. Never.

In the Fecund Country, year 32 of Emperor Milen’s reign, year 533 of the Old Era
Raven 17

  The raised points of the ceiling swirled in her mind as Raven lay in her ocean of a bed. This gargantuan circle had been hers for almost three years now, and she had grown used to its comfort. A disadvantage, now that she thought about it.
  The knock rang through her room and she sighed at its meaning. Carefully, Raven scooted to the edge of the endless satin sheet, conscious of her new dress. She crossed the room to open the door. “Already – “ she cut her speech short as the doorway revealed a man far from the regular messenger. “Your majesty,” she said evenly once having mastered her surprise. Beyond this, she knew not what to say; nor did she dare deviate from the regular scripts. “As pleasant as ever,” he whispered in return, placing his hand on her cheek. This was a harmless act, so she let it lay. “Shall we leave for dinner, your majesty?” she said. “No,” he replied faintly, “I-I just sought your company. Please, we must sit.”
  Nodding her consent, she stepped aside to let him in. They sat around the clear glass table she rarely used, and, as usual, they sat in silence. She looked out the window to the setting sun, to the beginning of new night, always aware of his haunting stare.
  As always, he began the conversation. “Why do your eyes never look at me?” he asked, still mutedly, still safe. Immediately she shifted her gaze to him as if acting from command. To her, she was. “I’m sorry, your majesty,” she answered, “I never thought about where my eyes wander.”
  “Have you ever thought about love?”
Her blood spiked and she responded carefully, “No, your majesty.” He laughed, though she saw pain in his eyes. “No, I didn’t think so,” he said, “Although I hoped…No, it was my mistake.” He paused again, contenting himself with his eyes’ perpetual object. The gold of evening held her wonder. Abruptly, he said, “You can’t know, Raven, my torture in loving a being that has never existed, my torture in loving both you and her and never knowing if I love you or her. She is but a memory, yet you are…you are real and tangible and beautiful.” He reached for her hand and she provided it; steady this time in familiarity with his ramblings. “We are different people now in this world I chanced to create; I chose to ignore this, and I apologize for it. For all these years I could not see you, Raven, with that power, patience, and wisdom your life had pushed upon you. You are a different person entirely.”
  She looked now as his eyes seemed to mist like overhanging skies, and he continued speaking but distantly, “I would give the world for us to be who we once were. I still live with the past; the world that never existed...where we loved each other and scorned the world. You…Raven…can you feel this pain that still shreds through to who I am? It lets me see those violet eyes laugh again, those parched lips smile again, that jagged, mussed hair again…It lets me see your fiery eyes, your impassioned will, your glowing beauty…You had always been so sad, and now…now I love you, I loved you, I will always love you and I’m…so sorry…so sorry…”
  His eyes again fixed, and he said with a saddened smile, “You will never understand who I had once been, Raven, and I’m sorry for who I am now. I’ve always ignored the hate and disgust in those fierce eyes, but I now realize that you can never love me. Not as I am. But I hope…that when we meet next …” he paused to place in her hand a thick, black bracelet as smooth and as hard as glass.
  “…We meet in peace.”
He looked at her expectedly and she placed the strange adornment on her wrist. She gasped as it conformed to her like an extra layer of skin, and panicking, she pushed it off with excessive force. The creature slid off easily. Smiling, he picked it up from where it fell by his feet and handed it back to her. “Trust me when I say you don’t want to lose this,” he said almost pleasantly. Taking the thing, she stared at him in confusion. For a second…she thought she had seen a different man.
  “I stole this many years ago,” he said, snapping her back to reality. “It is a priceless device; a man can use it to twist the past and future to become his present. You possess time. I have misused it for too long, and time has finally come to exact her revenge. I accept my punishment. However, before she takes me, I knew I somehow had to lessen my evil…So take it. I beg you to use it.” She placed the bracelet – no, device back onto her wrist, ignoring its constriction. However, she could not ignore his rambles. After a brief hesitation, where she struggled not to blurt, “You’re crazy!” she warily ventured to mutter, “Your majesty – “ But a ringing knock interrupted her. They both looked to the door, she with confusion and he with a certain resignation. “I will leave you then,” he said, getting up. He looked at her almost nervously. “Will you…allow me one last kiss?” She hesitated as the knock came again, beating like a drum. “I…” she stared at those beseeching blue eyes. “Why, your majesty?”
  He looked confused for a moment, but suddenly he laughed, bringing unnatural sparkles to those eyes. “Because I love you,” he answered.
  Virtue or death? The knocks rang louder and more frequent.
“No,” she finally managed to say, her hands shaking, “I’m sorry, your majesty.” The sparkles disappeared but he still smiled. “I hoped,” he said, taking one of her trembling hands, “But I didn’t deserve it.”
  He sighed. Letting her go, he backed away through the room.
“Goodbye then, Raven.”
“Goodbye, your majesty.”
  His eyes leveled with hers before he revealed a black bracelet identical to the one on her wrist; however, this one glowed a faint, shimmering white as he spoke. “In the Fecund country,” he said, his voice nearly inaudible, “year 64 of Emperor Milen’s reign, year 565 of the Old Era.” Suddenly, he was fading, fading, fading…and finally…gone.
  She could only stare.
  The door, however, cracked open.
That common messenger poked his head in. “My lady?” he said, “His majesty is waiting.” She looked blankly at him. Then she looked blankly at where he had disappeared. “Yes,” she eventually whispered, tearing her gaze from the spot, “His majesty will be waiting.” Slowly, she walked out of the room, and glancing at her new bracelet, a small smile graced her features for the first time in countless years.
  “Until we meet again,” she whispered.