And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
Edgar Allan Poe "The Raven"
The moon was nearly full, shining over the the garden. The raven sat in the apple tree outside the window looking at the sleepers there. The raven was patient, it could wait.
Emmie was dreaming again. It had to be a dream. She was flying again. She remembered falling asleep in Tempren's arms whispering of dreams and hopes until neither of them could keep their eyes open any longer.
But now she followed the raven in her dreams over the garden and out into the city. They turned towards the cemetery. Emmie didn't want to go there. She was afraid of what she knew she would find.
The raven guided her between the tombs, and she was no longer flying. Instead she was walking through the mists. The thin white nightdress she wore clinging to her skin in the cool dampness. And then she found it, what had frightened her awake every night before.The hooded woman, her face hidden in shadows, calling Emmie into the darkness. Into the yawning entrance of the catacombs. She tried desperately to wake herself this time, but felt helplessly drawn downwards.
The light of the single candle carried by the hooded woman cast flickering shadows over the bones of the dead entombed in the catacomb walls. Emmie shivered, but still she followed. Down they went, into a fairly fresh chamber. A man lay in state there, or what had once been a man. Naught was left but bones and dust, and the tattered remains of a uniform.
"He was a dashing man in life you know, " The hooded figure spoke, in tones as harsh and rasping as the raven's cry "Had he lived longer I may have made him my prince." She caressed the cheek of the skull like a lover a moment before continuing. "But no matter that, you will serve well in his place."
Emmie tried to back away, confused and frightened again. "Who are you? What do you mean serve in his place?"
"They that fear me call me the Great Queen, or Queen of Phantoms. They that serve me call me Mistress of the moon or Lady of the Raven. They that love me call me Morrigan." She drew closer to where Emmie stood, holding her candle higher to reveal her face. " And you will serve in his place quite well, daughter of two worlds."
"This is not my usual realm of influence child, the magic here is alien and pulls me oddly. I require an anchor, a focus in this place. You will be the ideal focus. A daughter of the earth, and yet a child of this world as well. Unfortunate that you are a girl.. I had rather hoped for a consort, or at the very least a diversion."
The woman's face had a nightmare cast that frightened Emmie, and yet she still could not wake herself. She found herself drawn to ask another question. "Who was he?"
"Why take a look for yourself child. They called him Bran, the raven. He was a traveler from this world, who somehow crossed over to our world. And there he stayed a year and a day in the company of a woman-child naught even as old as you. She grew round with his child. I envied her for I wanted him for myself. There were difficulties. The child almost perished in the womb, and so he struck a bargain. When his year and a day was up, he would serve me. And if he failed, the child's life was mine."
Morrigan gave Emmie a long look. "You carry his blood, though a dozen generations have passed. And still his debt has not been paid. It is time I collected."
Em couldn't take it anymore. She turned and fled back up the staircase. By the time she reached the top she was no longer running.. she was flying. Strong wing beats carried her above the crypts and away, soon to be joined by the raven who always was in her dreams. All the way back to the garden he paced her, calling out to her joyfully. "Can't you feel it Sister? The joy of flying?"
She was shivering with fear and cold by the time she landed by the spring inside the garden. She bent to catch the water to her lips to get a drink, and found in place of hands, white feathers. Frightened beyond anything by that, Emmie collapse by the spring sobbing.
Dawn found Emmie's place in the bed empty and cold. Crumpled beside the spring fast asleep was the tiny redhead, clutching in her hand a single white raven feather.
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
Edgar Allan Poe "The Raven"
The moon was nearly full, shining over the the garden. The raven sat in the apple tree outside the window looking at the sleepers there. The raven was patient, it could wait.
Emmie was dreaming again. It had to be a dream. She was flying again. She remembered falling asleep in Tempren's arms whispering of dreams and hopes until neither of them could keep their eyes open any longer.
But now she followed the raven in her dreams over the garden and out into the city. They turned towards the cemetery. Emmie didn't want to go there. She was afraid of what she knew she would find.
The raven guided her between the tombs, and she was no longer flying. Instead she was walking through the mists. The thin white nightdress she wore clinging to her skin in the cool dampness. And then she found it, what had frightened her awake every night before.The hooded woman, her face hidden in shadows, calling Emmie into the darkness. Into the yawning entrance of the catacombs. She tried desperately to wake herself this time, but felt helplessly drawn downwards.
The light of the single candle carried by the hooded woman cast flickering shadows over the bones of the dead entombed in the catacomb walls. Emmie shivered, but still she followed. Down they went, into a fairly fresh chamber. A man lay in state there, or what had once been a man. Naught was left but bones and dust, and the tattered remains of a uniform.
"He was a dashing man in life you know, " The hooded figure spoke, in tones as harsh and rasping as the raven's cry "Had he lived longer I may have made him my prince." She caressed the cheek of the skull like a lover a moment before continuing. "But no matter that, you will serve well in his place."
Emmie tried to back away, confused and frightened again. "Who are you? What do you mean serve in his place?"
"They that fear me call me the Great Queen, or Queen of Phantoms. They that serve me call me Mistress of the moon or Lady of the Raven. They that love me call me Morrigan." She drew closer to where Emmie stood, holding her candle higher to reveal her face. " And you will serve in his place quite well, daughter of two worlds."
"This is not my usual realm of influence child, the magic here is alien and pulls me oddly. I require an anchor, a focus in this place. You will be the ideal focus. A daughter of the earth, and yet a child of this world as well. Unfortunate that you are a girl.. I had rather hoped for a consort, or at the very least a diversion."
The woman's face had a nightmare cast that frightened Emmie, and yet she still could not wake herself. She found herself drawn to ask another question. "Who was he?"
"Why take a look for yourself child. They called him Bran, the raven. He was a traveler from this world, who somehow crossed over to our world. And there he stayed a year and a day in the company of a woman-child naught even as old as you. She grew round with his child. I envied her for I wanted him for myself. There were difficulties. The child almost perished in the womb, and so he struck a bargain. When his year and a day was up, he would serve me. And if he failed, the child's life was mine."
Morrigan gave Emmie a long look. "You carry his blood, though a dozen generations have passed. And still his debt has not been paid. It is time I collected."
Em couldn't take it anymore. She turned and fled back up the staircase. By the time she reached the top she was no longer running.. she was flying. Strong wing beats carried her above the crypts and away, soon to be joined by the raven who always was in her dreams. All the way back to the garden he paced her, calling out to her joyfully. "Can't you feel it Sister? The joy of flying?"
She was shivering with fear and cold by the time she landed by the spring inside the garden. She bent to catch the water to her lips to get a drink, and found in place of hands, white feathers. Frightened beyond anything by that, Emmie collapse by the spring sobbing.
Dawn found Emmie's place in the bed empty and cold. Crumpled beside the spring fast asleep was the tiny redhead, clutching in her hand a single white raven feather.