Time lingered as spring set in, which didn’t mean much this high up in the mountains. The other students complained about the cold less, content to shiver as long as their teeth no longer chattered. But Raven grew restless. Every night he spied on Marcus Shrale, and every morning, he came away without advancement toward his goal. The man guarded his treasured signet ring like a bear to her cub.
To fill the time, Raven worked toward accomplishing his other tasks, the promises he had made to others since his arrival. One of those undertakings was the mysterious Class Seven pandora Fanny had lent him, the soul constantly in combustion. He recently heard of a man inside the city with special knowledge regarding high class pandora, a miscreant called the Gold Lecher. Raven intended to seek him out that afternoon as soon as classes were done for the day.
All he had to do now was endure his obligatory presence in a Battle and War Tactics session. Master Forir possessed the space of an entire tower all to himself, and he made the most of it. Three days a week, the students of his class entered through iron doors into a vast forum devoid of other doors or rooms. It was a wide, empty field of battle, whereby students might practice in the art of conflict. Only one space on the wall was dedicated to anything. Three long rows of painted portraits were affixed to a nearby wall, featuring all the past masters of Battle and War Tactics. Master Forir’s grim painting hung at the end of the last row.
The desks of the students were crowded into one corner where Forir lectured. He never sat, never turned his back to anyone at any time, and his guarded glare was constant, even when he seemed pleased by something his charges accomplished. Then again, it was hard to tell. His closed collar blocked off sight of his face from the nose down.
Raven had attended several of his classes now, and the man’s consistency was exemplary. Even his strange pet cardinal seemed to share in Forir’s reliable guardedness. The creature possessed keen intelligence, there was no doubt. Always on his master’s shoulder, the red bird peered ceaselessly at Raven. It was as if the bird had been ordered to watch him and was following that directive to the letter.
Raven watched as Forir guided two students in practice dueling with pandora. Arms folded behind him, he scrutinized their actions with extreme care. Today was the first time he was allowing them to use seals to enhance their attacks. A tall boy stood in the middle of a rather tame seal he had just drawn onto the floor, the Seal of Wind. Raven shook his head as the boy nervously raised a pandora. Immediately, the seal reacted with a flash of light, and he was knocked out of the circle, falling flat on his back. He coughed hard, and a trickle of blood dribbled from his nose.
No one dared to laugh or even react.
“Why did this happen, Tomas?” Forir asked, approaching the student. His bird chirped a stern rebuke.
Tomas slowly got up, wincing and groaning as he did. “I… I don’t know, sir.”
Forir knelt, pointing to the floor. The seal Tomas had drawn beforehand was in practice chalk. The teacher pointed to the smallest of gaps in the chalk line. “Your seal is broken. What have we talked about over and over in my class?”
“Respect the seal, sir,” he replied glumly. He took a chalk stick and connected the lines.
“Standing inside a stronger, more intricately drawn seal, you could have died. Or even just by holding a stronger pandora. Listen to me, class!”
He stood, turning aside to face the rest of the students.
“You must respect the seal, no matter the reason for creating them. I will drill this one impression into your brain, even if it’s the only thing you take away from this class. I know some of you are here solely for higher learning, and you know nothing of war. You have no desire to study battle. And I do not begrudge any of you for such feelings. It is the way of our world. But these classes were never meant to train you for real combat. I should hope, in fact, you would never use seals and pandora to harm another person.”
He paused, looking out over his class. His eyes met Raven’s. A carefully guarded look came over him, and Raven returned the gaze in kind.
“These are not trifles,” Forir continued. “When you draw your seals, take the utmost care, even with the simplest of them. When the time comes to learn how to draw them swiftly with pandora pens, you will not always catch your mistakes. So then, as I said on our first day together, why are we here?”
A few students meekly said, “To learn how not to make mistakes.”
“Very good. I know most of you have no interest in seals, but they should be learned nonetheless, because they are from the Holy One. Now, Tomas… try it again.”
Eventually, the rest of the students joined Tomas in practicing. But Raven remained sitting, as Forir had forbidden him from using pandora on the very first day. So he sat and watched, counting the minutes until the session was over. He reached into his robes and pulled out the sphere of ice holding Fanny’s intense pandora, placing it on his desk.
How odd it was. Burning constantly, the pandora gave Raven the impression of a defense mechanism. As if the soul inside was cutting off all influence from the outside world. The fire was deep and constant, brooding in its nature and so penetrating, it was impossible to see the actual card itself beyond its edges.
“Is there something you want to share?”
Raven looked up to find Master Forir approaching his desk, glaring guardedly at him. The students had stopped in their practicing to watch them.
“Nothing, sir,” Raven replied. He placed two fingertips on the ice sphere and gently rolled it back and forth. He stared the master right in the eyes. “This is nothing to concern yourself with.”
“I thought I made it clear you were not to use pandora in this class.”
“This pandora is acting of its own accord. I have no control over it. But you may let go of your fear. I have rendered it harmless for now.”
“Your arrogance is appalling. How does a young man become this way?” He sighed with deep frustration. “It reminds me so much of my brother, Seliph. In his youth, he frequently spouted blustery boasts, insufferable in his pride. Arrogant. So arrogant.”
“And where is your brother now?”
“Dead. Murdered two years ago by an unknown assailant. But there can be no doubt. His hubris led to his downfall. May you learn a lesson from his fate.”
Raven considered the man before him with interest. Of all the masters, Raven knew the least about him, so guarded was his past. While Raven already knew about his murdered brother, he had not known Seliph’s death affected the master so much. Clearly, Forir still grieved.
Raven smiled. A wonderful new scheme was hatched in that moment, devious in its purpose, yet so simple in its execution. He was practically giddy by the new inspiration. And if everything went according to plan, he could perhaps kill two birds with one stone. But exploration was still required before he could perpetrate such a trick on the venerable master. Raven would bide his time and develop the perfect plot.
Class ended soon after that exchange, and Raven was quickly out, eager to find his quarry. He was out of the school in no time and weaving through Roespeye’s narrow roads until he located the Lunar Sills, a dreary section of the lower city beleaguered with a wet stench. Slowly melting snow trickled down the streets, sluicing dirty, cold sludge. Raven trekked the passages through the Sills, locating an alley called Simon’s Call. Warehouses of stored dry goods entrapped a black shingled shanty on one end.
As he entered the alley, Raven had the sudden feeling he was being followed, and he whirled. But there was nothing. The narrow path was steeped in shadow but empty, with no place for anything to hide. He waited, but nothing appeared.
“Odd,” he said, narrowing his eyes.
“What is it?” Rue asked.
“I felt a presence. Human. But I can’t sense it now.”
“I didn’t feel anything. Are you sure?”
“No. That’s what I don’t like.”
He turned and made his way to the shanty. Stepping through the open doorway, he found the place unoccupied. There were tables and a desk covered in papers, trinkets, and black books. The well-worn rug was stained with red blotches and several windows were broken.
A rollaway door was open on one side. Raven heard voices and followed them through the opening and onto a wooden portico. The portico overlooked a forested courtyard and a pond, deep green and still frozen over but showing signs of thawing. Four men were playing a game of poker on a rickety table, while another person stood nearby, cloaked and holding a green mask over her face by way of a long wooden stick. The holes for the eyes and mouth were narrow rectangles.
At the far end of the table, the Gold Lecher sat, holding a handful of playing cards and sporting a confident smirk. He was easily identified by his bald head, gold boots and gold fingernail polish. He laid his cards down, and his compatriots moaned in defeat. Raven slowly approached as the man raked in his pot.
The Gold Lecher, whose real name was Franky Gold, had a hand in several operations in the city. From the pig farms to the salt mines, Gold seemed to have a slice of every pie. But it wasn’t until Raven learned of his fearsome passion for rare pandora that the man’s existence piqued any interest. From what he was told, the Lecher of Roespeye was particularly wise about pandora produced in his own city.
Gold watched with interest as Raven approached. He placed his hands on the table and glanced at the cloaked woman standing nearby. But she said nothing.
“And what do we have here?” he said casually, shuffling the deck of cards.
“I’ve heard you’re a man who knows things about high-level pandora,” Raven said. Gold’s friends turned to look at him suspiciously.
“Could be,” Gold replied, smiling easily. Raven was a little surprised he didn’t have gold teeth. “Why would a lad like yourself be interested in such things?”
“I have a Class Seven, mysterious and… ill-tempered. Highly unstable. As such, I have thus far been unable to discover its secrets. You could say I’m looking for a different perspective.”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Gold laid the stack of cards on the table in a neat pile. He glanced at his companions and nodded. They collected their things off the table and immediately left, leaving only him, Raven, and the woman holding the mask.
“Let’s discuss this inside, shall we?” Gold said pleasantly.
Raven nodded and followed him into the shanty. The woman in the mask stayed outside, just beyond the sliding door. She eyed Raven carefully, but didn’t seem cagey. Gold sat behind his desk and kicked his feet up. He placed his hands behind his head as he leaned back, watching Raven as he pulled up a chair and sat opposite him.
“Let’s have a look then,” Gold said simply.
Raven lifted his arm. The pandora encased in the ice globe floated out of his sleeve. Gold sat up in surprise and opened his hands. The globe fell into his hands, and he placed it on his desk. Inside, the pandora burned bright as ever, consumed in concealing flame.
“Well, wouldn’t you know…” he said quietly. The light of the fire danced across his face. He placed his hand on the globe.
“Surprised by what you are seeing?” Raven asked.
Gold leaned back, keeping his hand over the pandora. “It’s a bit funny. The other day, my mate says to me, ‘Gold, you’re not gonna believe this.’ I said, ‘What?’ and he says ‘There’s a kid at the school who’s got a bunch of pandora. High-end. Loaded.’ I said to him, ‘No way,’ and he says, ‘It’s true. Everybody is talking about him.’”
Raven smirked.
Gold continued. “So, I look into it. Turns out, there is a kid packing tons of pandora. Goes by the name Raven. He’s causin’ a fuss in the city, flashin’ cards like he owns the place. The kind of thing that gets my attention. So, one day, my mate says to me, ‘Gold, there’s a fortune to be made here.’ I said, ‘How’s that?” He says, ‘Why don’t we just… take ‘em?’”
Gold flashed a smile, grasping the globe of ice and lifting it up. In that moment, heavy footsteps preceded a group of men filtering into the shack through the side entrance. Over the course of a minute, approximately thirty henchmen of Gold’s, armed to the teeth, surrounded Raven, leaving only a gap for their boss to remain in eye contact.
“Take the kid’s pandora?” Gold said. “It’s an idea, isn’t it? But now, I said to my mate, ‘We couldn’t do something like that in the school. Panka wouldn’t have it.’ So, my mate says, ‘Well, let’s draw him out of there then. Maybe we invite him here to talk business.’ And I said, ‘He wouldn’t come to my place alone.’ He says, ‘Maybe he will.’ And I say, ‘No way.’”
Gold laughed. “And wouldn’t you know it? Just as we start to talk about it, the little squirt shows up uninvited, handing priceless pandora over to me like I’m the Titan himself.” His men laughed along with him.
“That’s a fascinating story,” Raven replied when the laughter died. “Now allow me tell you one.”
“Go right ahead.”
“As I was thinking about ways in which to discover this pandora’s secrets, my friend Van tells me about a man in the Lunar Sills who might be able to help. I’m interested. ‘I have to warn you, though,’ he said. ‘He’s a crook. He might try to rob you.’ So, I said to Van, ‘After everything I’ve shown I’m capable of, there’s no way a man as careful as Gold will try to rob me.’ Right? But he says, ‘I don’t think he’s that careful. I bet he’ll try to rob you.’”
Gold’s smile slowly turned into a scowl.
Raven continued, “‘No, I’m sure Gold won’t try anything. He’ll know by now that I would absolutely… destroy him.’ So, Van says, ‘I’ll bet you ten crowns.’ I couldn’t believe it. ‘Ten crowns?’ And he says, ‘Yes, I bet you ten crowns Gold tries to rob you and then you’ll have to kill him.’ So, I said, ‘It’s a deal.’
“And wouldn’t you know it?” Raven said, smiling darkly. “It seems I’m out ten crowns.”
“Take him,” Gold ordered.
His men barely had time to process the command before Raven lifted up Rue for all to see. Power exploded from the pandora, launching them into the walls with violent thuds. Bones crunched and boards splintered with sickening effect. They toppled over each other, forming jumbles of unconscious bodies. A few managed to remain conscious, attempting to get up, but Rue attacked again, hurling them back into the walls with such force, they burst the walls of the shanty and tumbled to a sliding stop outside.
Gold was pinned to the wall behind him. Rue’s force increased. He screamed in pain. The old wooden boards groaned and creaked from the pressure.
Finally, Raven relented, lowering Rue. Gold dropped, collapsing like a bag of potatoes. Raven propped his head against his knuckles, smiling wearily, like a father watching his child behave silly. He waved Rue again, and Gold’s desk was split asunder. The pieces scattered, leaving nothing between them.
Gold hacked, shuddering in pain. “Aren’t you going to do something?” he rasped angrily.
The woman with the green mask was still standing outside, watching. “What would you have me do?” she asked. “I warned you about him. You didn’t take me seriously.”
Raven lifted Rue again. Gold was slammed back into the wall, rising as if picked up by the neck. The pressure increased. A few ribs snapped, and he roared in pain. “Stop! Stop! I beg you!”
Raven again relented, and Gold dropped. Wisps of smoke issued from Rue’s pandora. He rose from his seat and approached, grabbing Gold by the arm and pulling him up. He moaned as he was propped against the wall. Blood dribbled from his mouth and nose, and his breathing had been reduced to short gasps.
Raven picked up the ice orb where it lay in the corner. He sat back in his chair. “Well then, Franky. What should we talk about?”
Gold coughed. “You have... some nerve... calling me that.”
“Let’s say we’re even. Now... tell me about the pandora.”
For a fleeting moment, it seemed Gold was going to tell Raven to go to hell, but his resistance lasted only a moment before he succumbed to reality. He bowed his head in shame.
“What do you wanna know?”
“Let’s start with the obvious. Why is this pandora burning? I’ve never seen a pandora react this way.”
Gold gave a pathetic laugh. “I have… plenty of times.” He snorted up a glob of blood dribbling from his nose. “But there’s a reason for that. I used to work at the Morborium as a lad. The Grey Ward.”
“The Grey Ward? Where they store the so-called ‘useless’ pandora?”
“They call them useless. But I know better. Thing is, sometimes souls don’t wanna be used. Sometimes... they just say no.” Gold hacked up a mouthful of blood. He groaned. “When a person dies… and they get made into a card, the soul still has to accept the reality. That’s always been my belief. They have to put themselves to work. But sometimes, they refuse.”
“Very few cards ever get sent to the Grey Ward,” Raven objected. “Considering the circumstances, I’d have guessed a lot more would refuse to ‘work’ when they become pandora if what you say was true.”
Gold sniffed, wiping the sweat and blood from his face with his arm. “Well, that’s the tricky part, isn’t it? But I figured it out a long time ago. The thing is, it isn’t that easy to resist the pandora. When you get made into a card, you’re compelled to work. It’s the nature of the beast. So, to have the power to deny, well, you need to have a good reason.”
“A reason? Like what?”
“Could be anything. Maybe you’ve got regrets from your past life. Maybe you hate the person who holds your soul. Or maybe you’re just belligerent. All I know for sure is that the pandora that were deemed useless were always different in life. They used to be criminals or poor or rich. Maybe they had a grudge or used to be famous. But it was always something. Always. No one sent to the Ward ever had a normal life.”
Raven regarded him silently, mind churning with interest. He looked down at the globe. The pandora within burned so fiercely, it was hard not to accept what Gold was telling him.
“And you’ve seen pandora on fire like this?” he asked.
Gold coughed again, clutching weakly to his stomach. “Haven’t I told you enough?”
“Not nearly.”
“Yeah. Just like that. But only the high-level ones. The ones with the power to act out. The others? They just look like duds when you try to use ‘em.”
“So, here’s the million-crown question, Franky. How do I get this pandora to stop burning?”
“If I answer, do I get a million crowns?” He laughed weakly.
“Maybe I let you live.”
“Alright. I’ll tell you. But after that, you gotta swear to leave.”
“If the information is adequate, I’ll dust my shoes and be on my way.”
“I said before that the soul inside has to have a reason. A reason to refuse to work like a pandora should. It’s a feeling they hold onto. An urge. Or an emotion. So, to get them to stop acting out, you have to placate them. Treat them like humans again and do the same thing you’d do if they were alive. If they’re angry, you have to calm them. If they’re sad, you have to console them.”
“And this pandora?” Raven replied, holding up the orb.
Gold shrugged and then winced in pain from the action. “I couldn’t know. Depends on what’s going on with whoever that is. Whatever feeling that person’s holding onto and just won’t let go.”
Raven smirked. “Very well. I shall be on my way. Thank you. Maybe next time, we’ll speak under different circumstances.”
Gold coughed violently. “Yeah right,” he groaned, keeling over to one side.
Raven glanced at the woman in the mask. She remained where she was, calm and wary. Raven did not know who she was, but he guessed she was an information broker like Van. The mask was strange. Even stranger was her lack of fear.
“Will he live?” she asked.
Raven slowly stood up.
“Should I care?” He looked her dead in the eyes.
“Who are you?” she asked. “Why are you really here?”
Raven didn’t answer. He continued to stare for a moment before turning and making for the doorway. She followed from a safe distance as he exited. As he slowly vanished into the darkening alley, he uttered his chant.
A year upon the learners’ door. Asleep to bide the time.
Release the Devil, take back her soul, and end the trickster’s chime.
Thief of Life, yon Titan. Come claim your wicked prize.
The soul I take, a different sort, concealed to greedy eyes.
Beyond the grave, the Raven crows. Black Stare on Reyk Provote.
Rare bird pursues your wretched life, to seize it by the throat.
Rogue Puppet hides beneath your watch. Save for me, he dares not yield.
The day draws near when you shall die by mind and sword and shield.
Raven was back on the wet streets of the Lunar Sills.
“She’s not following you,” Rue said.
He slipped away and quickly found another empty alley. He ducked inside and checked for any watchers. When he was sure he was alone, he lifted up the ice globe. Inside, the pandora burned bright as ever.
What Gold had said made sense. Just as pandora could speak to those who were able to listen, it was also reasonable that they could act in other ways. So, the pandora burned with purpose, but for what reason? And why did it start doing so only when Raven had come into proximity with it?
He had many questions, but none could be answered without ridding the card of its fire. And he had an idea now. He lifted his arm, and two pandora floated out. Ice Token and Widow’s Reaver floated side-by-side.
“Are you ready?” Raven asked.
“No,” Rue replied. “But it has to be done, right?”
He nodded. Ice Token activated, and the globe of ice it previously constructed melted away. Raven jumped back as the flames exploded in a huge burst. No longer hindered, it floated in mid-air and emitted a huge bonfire of conflagration, so hot it charred the dirt path.
“Hurry, Raven!” Rue moaned. “It’s screaming again! It’s so painful! Please hurry!”
Raven lifted his arm. Widow’s Reaver began to glow white hot. A dark pulse came and went. Then, a shadowy arm appeared, followed by a body. A black apparition materialized out of the pandora, seeping gaseous fumes from every part of its translucent body. Two spectral hands reached into the fire. A screech filled Raven’s hearing as the shadow phantom battled with the blaze. Rue continued to torment, moaning in pain.
After several intense moments, Raven finally found the progress he was hoping for. The flames were slowly reducing. He smiled in triumph and clenched his raised fist, urging his pandora to increase its effort.
Widow’s Reaver was a Mind type pandora, capable of reducing creatures, human and animal alike, to a calm or even vegetative condition. While it had a grip on the brain of its victim, it could render it completely incapacitated. Raven seldom used it, however, due to its dangerous and often unstable properties. A person under the influence of Widow’s Reaver was rarely the same afterwards, even under its lightest touch. But after hearing what Gold said earlier, Raven quickly theorized it might be the perfect method for stabilizing the pandora in question.
The flames grew lighter and lighter, and Rue calmed. The shadow figure closed its hands around the pandora, squeezing them together until eventually, the flames were completely snuffed out.
“You did it,” Rue said in awe. “I can still feel him. The soul within. But... his rage has subsided. It looks like Gold was telling the truth.”
Raven nodded and slowly approached. He waved his hand. The black ghost cautiously released its grip, revealing the pandora within. It hovered before him, charred black by its own fire. For the first time, Raven could see the image on the card, and he was immediately shocked beyond words.
“What... what does this mean?” Rue asked fearfully.
Raven didn’t reply. He couldn’t, because he had no answer. The image of the mystery pandora was the exact same image as Rue’s own pandora. A pair of black wings with a contorted halo. Then, an even more haunting event struck him in that moment.
A voice.
A mere whisper, issuing from the Class Seven pandora. Eyes wide, Raven stepped closer. It was barely audible, but eventually he determined what the pandora was saying.
Over and over, it repeated the same words.
“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry... Oh… I’m so…so… sorry…”