It was a strange thing... perplexing the way that darkness could consume her soul. was she evil? No... she did not believe so. Was she innocent and pure? Doubtful yet again.

During the darkest hours the puppet strings were pulled and the cage door opened to free the Death Raven. Do their bidding they commanded, collect the souls they ordered.

The Soul Market was not a place that boded well with Solah, but as the final member of the Soul Collectors it was what she must do. It was a silly thing... so many believed it was just Heaven and Hell, Purgatory and the River Styx. Death coming to collect your soul when the rattle of death shook the rib cage like a baby's favorite toy.

No... any more the Shining One, the Despairing ones... and the Wicked... oh they had alternate plans for such a thing as a fragile soul. Solah should understand that very well. She after all had once been a "human" in the loose coin of the term... for when she was awakened to her "new life" she realized that mommy wasn't as innocent as she seemed. Fallen angels had fallen for more then just one reasoning of defiance... and for Solah's father... it was a falling for her mother. In more then the literal sense.

The plague had come and seized her village, she herself laid on her death bed, a fragile weak thing... her bones so brittle they could snap like a bird's wing in a strong hand.

Birdbone beauty and avian eyes. That's what they swore of the quiet girl from the Village. The strange girl with raven eyes. The people of the village whispered of her, that she was perhaps the maiden that could cross and part the veil of their world and the spirit world. If only they knew.

Still even such a mystic creature had death at her door... her soul taken...her body turned to ashes... and when she awoke... she would fly not as angel but as raven. Death Raven.

The Death Raven was a lovely dark creature. Tragic Beauty and Fragile ways. Breakable it seemed if not for her eyes... the intensity of abandonment.

So many nights she did their bidding, selling souls to the highest bidder. She no longer cared what the reasoning was for purchasing a soul... but if she did care she'd never remember.

The morning light would find her birdbone frame in a mess of blood and raven feathers... her memories erased until the night came again.

The Death Raven knew her calling like a carrion cry. Till she would be locked in the prison of her cage.

Over and over again... until one day... the bird was set free... and the Death Raven held memories... of what she was... part angel... part human... all Raven.

Tentative and Elusive she was cautious as much as she was curious. Still Solah was a strange bird, a quiet raven that watched the world with dangerously tragic eyes.

With memories regained and a life now hers to claim... it was only anyone's guess what a caged bird would do when freed... surely... she would not sing...

http://supermodels.nl/ModelPics/lisacant/45.jpg

Snow dusted her figure in a reverse mockery of a dalmation. Form quivered, wings of ebon trembling to shake away the snow as the Death Raven lifted her head and stared up at the sky.

Her twin had come and gone... back to attending to her obligations and Solah had found someone like herself. So strange.

The caress of touch at her wings, the straying disappearance of tension from her wings with that massage... all still lingered with her. Her thoughts as ever were near dark and brooding. Since freed from her cage and the strings of the Incarnations it was a haphazard path that Solah walked.

Learning to feel again and to realize that emotions did linger in her soul was something to adjust to. Briefly her thoughts turned to the Albino Drow. So much pain in that one... so torture and despair... anger and frustration. The Death Raven could only understand. A lost soul like once she was.

Sighing the Raven settled in the snow, drawing her wings to her as she thought of the fallen angel and the drow that had come into her life in strange visitations.

Solah was one born of human blood and angel blood. Angels fell for more reasons then not following the same beliefs and desires as the Higher One. For Solah's father... it had been her mother. Now a full blood had found the half blooded Raven... and it was a bizarre thing to draw the Soul Collector.

Peace and Curiousity. Dreams and Revelations. It was such an interesting thing to be now forged with for Solah. Ever since the last of the Soul Collectors, her "flock" per se had been murdered she had been alone. Lost again. Feeling the Outcast. The lone wanderer.

How easy was it to escape and leave her past behind when it was all she had known? Only time would tell...

It was a trying thing. Her perch in the rafters of the Inn no longer claimed for the one of Snow and Ice had been found again. A dangerous quest to perhaps chance a crossing of paths once more but the Death Raven was willing to take such a chance.

The Winter one seemed so full of anger and despair, hatred and hurt it was a familiar taste to Solah. Her descent to the floor of the Inn brought her amongst the crowd... their souls screamed, beckoned, cried, and called... where some would see the painted hues of aura, Solah saw their souls like a vivid tapestry displayed before her eyes. So easy for the taking. So tempting to twist and clip those threads.

Worry colored the threads of the Winter Queen's soul, and Solah could only do what she felt was right... protect and serve, whether the Albino wished it or not.

The book so precious to the one of Ice and Snow was near taken and the disturbance alerted that carrion cry of the Raven to alert the one of Ice... and thus the awareness of the Artist, a different hue of Darkness was known.

The Artist was one that didn't feel quite right to Solah... there was an air of warning that screamed in her mind, made her want the presence of the fallen angel or the only other friend known to make sure she was directed on the right path.

A warning cry in her head that she ignored, offering her name with the sense that such could equally place her in a cage.

Still she was not the one left with the imprint. The darkness had touched the Frost. All the time the Death Raven could not get out the sensation that Neikla and herslef were just white and black pieces in a game of chess she had yet to understand the reasoning for...

The time frame before midnight and just a bit after was known in some cultures as the Witching Hour. Good magic before midnight, bad magic after. Dark and Light hours of energy so close together it was not unusual for the Death Raven to be awake in those dark hours. Tonight was different, her thoughts and spirit were often so tormented by the past that she took each painstaking day to recover from, but this was different. This was not her own pain? but strangely enough? the pain of her twin.

The scream of horror in her mind had her easily dragged into the Dream Landscape. Solah knew well enough that even though the Dreamer had a firm control over the Dream Landscape, sometimes the emotions of Pheus could easily leak into her control and leave the Dreamer plagued by her own Dreams and Nightmares that she kept so tightly locked away.

It was always so strange to be a part of the Dream Landscape for Solah. The Raven wasn?t comfortable with how the place was ever changing? moving and breathing as if it was a living thing rather then a plane of existence.

?Pheus??

A question, the Death Raven flinched as dusky fingers clenched at the scythe in her hand. The landscape altered becoming a dark place of madness and blood. In the shadows she saw something beast like prowl and run. A wolf perhaps or a lion? maybe a bear, so frequently did that image change.

The Dream Landscape was a mimic for the chambers of the mind of the Dreamer at this moment which Solah found strange. This was not like the Dreamer to have this much a lack of control. Emotions usually were so easily controlled by the Dreamer unlike Solah who found emotions strange and complex? and uncontrolled.

?You love him do you not?? The question was a whispered caress in the air, cold as frost in the night that left the Raven breathless as the Dreamer emerged behind her. Without wings and in that dress of white, crystals of the jewelry worn at throat and wrists and brow gleaming like icicles in moonlight her sister was ever a vision? though this evening the vision seemed tormented. The Raven looked down to the pale palms of her sister? though they were stained in crimson?blood coating her hands.

The Dreamer?s hands clenched into fists as she shook her head, panic and that Wild hatred in her eyes again. ?They made me do it, Solah? I can?t get away from them.?

A whisper then, the tragic elegance of the Raven?s voice to answer the Dreamer as she looked to her in question. ?Did you kill them??

?No. Christian beckoned. Another? experiment? a nightmare far worse then ever I have seen. A mind so corrupted. So much blood in that mind, so much dead that was reveled in.?

The Dreamer looked stunned for a moment, fascinated as the macabre would call to the Dreamer as much as Darkness would to the Raven. ?Funny? his greatest nightmare was himself. It was horrible to watch. His death. Taking of his life by his own hands? it was so brutal, so raw. ?

The Raven blinked in shock then, leaning against her scythe as she looked in concern to the pale dreamer. Usually the Dreamer did not watch such things for being an Empath as her sister was? her sister often would become linked to those as the death rattle shuddered their final gleam of light? of life.

?Our debt is paid in full. We are both free. You are free to love him now, Solah.?

A murmur, the Dreamer smiled though the vision seemed to break Solah?s heart for some reason she comprehended but did not really understand. Solah had loved once before becoming the Raven, and the memory of it had lingered and remained with her. Did Solah love the Fallen One? It was quite possible but yet to be confessed? learning to feel again and to have such a strong emotion was ever overwhelming. Something to get used to again, feeling safe? feeling like she belonged. One could only long after all for something once had? once possessed and lost. The Dreamer though? she never had such a thing.

It was a strange thing to feel not so broken in comparison to the wild confusion she saw in the Dreamer?s eyes. She knew well enough that being in the mind of the last ?experiment? had more then likely tore at the stability of the pale one. The scythe disappeared from hands as dusky fingers clutched gently at her sisters shoulders. Up to tiptoes as her Twin was taller then her, a press of lips to that pale brow.

?Thank you sister.? The Darkness turned from the Light of the Dreamer then? it was best then for the pair to find their own strengths in solo paths. Their roads were never divided but for now they went in another direction. Such a grace from the Darkness seemed to soothe the Dreamer from the inner torment of lingering emotions that were chaos and madness and dark things in her mind. The Dream landscape gone, Solah found herself staring up at the ceiling of her shared room with Kraven. No more worries or fears. She knew it would not be easy for the Raven to love again? but her path no longer was bound in chains. No longer kept caged?she was safe again? and free.