CHAPTER IV - The Crow Twins
> “...In the beginning, there was silence.
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> Nothing, but the stillness of space: empty and colourless.
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> Neither black nor white, no darkness or light.
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> No flow of time, no sound or rhyme.
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> But even nothing is something, and something can be nothing. The goddess Veifa was all but none, an entity neither living nor dead. With her divine fingers and silver spindle, she spun the threads of time and space, weaving into creation all that we know, have known and will know.
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> She spun the sounds and the rhythm of the divine language, formed songs that brought about the rising of mountains and the flowing of rivers. There came the waking sun, the pale moon, earth and water and air and stone.
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> Like a tapestry, our world was fabricated, her work of art, tragically beautiful.
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> The creation of the world brought about the existence of the Stone Spirits - they were the earth’s undying breath, a symbol of its soul.
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> The spirits lived alongside mankind, providing guidance and protection. But unlike the spirits, mankind was prone to a series of diseases; incurable by any medicine. Diseases so silent and subtle, one could never tell if a person was suffering from them until the damage was done.
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> These diseases were greed, ignorance, hatred.
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> In allowing humans to thrive, they burned the world, bringing about wars and pain and terror. They brought about foolish kings and queens, whose hunger for power devoured them whole. They burned each other, causing the destruction of nature and the tainting of the seas. The murder of life itself.
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> Humanity was like an illness, a parasite sucking beauty from the world. Our earth grew weak; its spirits diminished one after the other.
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> But that was when the goddess Veifa sent down guidance. Two powerful entities, divine beings, with hair as dark as the sea and eyes as fiery as the stars. They were human in nature but blessed with the powers of the stone spirits. With such magic, they could control the elements, reform the earth, purify the oceans and restore balance upon our world.
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> Their names were Vindus and Falvida, the first spirit-weavers.
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> Falvida was one with a kind spirit. Veifa gave her the role of protecting the people, and so she lived alongside them on the land, teaching humans spells and songs of healing and divination. Vindus, on the other hand, had the spirit of a warrior. He was to protect the stone spirits, and so he lived high atop the mountains, shifting the changing weathers and watching over the land… “
Aurae sighed and closed the book. She looked to the window; saw how frost crept up the glass like branching fingers. She had heard this tale many times – the tale of the crow twins, ancient beings that guided and protected. It was from a book she had picked from the pile of literature Florian brought in yesterday, Vilja thought it would be good enough to keep her occupied while she stayed at home.
This felt like being grounded, really. Aurae couldn’t quite think of a better way to describe it. Of course, her lack of presence was for the sake of everyone’s safety… but she hated the idea of hiding herself away, like some misunderstood beast from an ancient myth. Vilja had questioned her last night about the berries. At first, the red-witch had looked impressed and satisfied with the entire basket, but that had all turned to suspicion upon further thought.
“Where did you get the basket?” She had asked her.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Freya gave it to me,” Aurae answered promptly.
Vilja folded her arms, her eyes squinting, “Freya left to meet some merchants. She is not back until tomorrow.”
“She told me before,” Aurae began, “That… that I could borrow anything from her kitchen if I needed it. For cooking.”
“For cooking.” Vilja stared, hard. “Is that so?” There was a heavy silence that filled the room after that, one that Aurae knew far too well.
Vilja wasn’t convinced, was she?
Aurae looked up, and saw how the eyes of her mentor remained cold and expecting. That dark, cedar gaze of hers, that made you feel like your soul was being searched inside out. Aurae had tried to hold eye contact, she truly did, but eventually the silence became too overwhelming, like it was eating her up whole. “There was a person in the forest.” She thought telling the truth would have eased Vilja’s suspicions, but it only seemed to make things worse.
“A stranger?” Vilja leaned forward. “You took these from a stranger, Aurae?”
“Well, yes! He had many baskets, all full to the brim! They were floating and- he let me borrow one. For Stenmaya.”
“Excuse me, he? Who is he?” Vilja was at the window now, her fingers nudging aside a curtain so she could look to the trees outside. “I thought you would have known better than to take food from strange men,” she grumbled, her eyes searching the foliage in the dark, cautiously. “What did he look like?”
Aurae thought for a moment, the image of the man was fresh in her mind. “He had long, dark hair. Really, really dark. Like an eclipse, Vilja.”
“And what was he wearing?” Vilja prompted.
“A cloak… the feathers of a black bird at his shoulders.”
And that was enough information. Suddenly, Vilja knew. “Silas, that bastard…” She looked back to Aurae, a hard line formed between her brows. Aurae felt a little startled by her sudden change in demeanour. It had been a while since Vilja was like this. Usually, she was quite serious, but it was a more calm, passive type of serious, like the sky on a cloudy day, sullen and profound. But now? No, this was a frightening serious. A dead serious. Like a black, oncoming storm.
“Listen to me, Aurae,” Vilja’s voice was low, “Listen to me. You mustn't talk to this man again. Avoid him, at all costs. He is a liar, a deceiver-”
“But he gave us food, Vilja.”
“No,” Vilja grabbed her shoulders firmly, “Naive girl! He is a necromancer. You mustn't, you mustn't go near him. They curse life, steal it-”
The realisation struck her. It all made sense. Only a necromancer could reverse decay, that was their magic. That was how his berries were fresh, “And put it where it is not meant to be…” she trailed off.
Vilja’s eyes met Aurae’s again. She sighed, and gave her the look mothers used on children, “Do not talk to him again. Promise me. If you see him, return home. I don’t want you running into any trouble, do you hear?”
“I hear you, Vilja,” Aurae brushed away the hands at her shoulders, “I promise.”
She went to her room then, and Vilja was left alone in the kitchen. Silence returned to fill the air, it crept into the cracks of walls and windows, into her ears and mind, like winter fog, suffocating and dense.
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Aurae knew Vilja had told her to stay away. She was not stupid, she knew the dangers of involving herself with necromancers. Though somehow, it was the very danger that drew her closer. It kept her up at night, thinking, eyes wide and starry beneath the black sky.
She hadn't stopped visiting the forest. Of course she hadn't; it was her second home. Every morning, when the sun melted the clouds, she'd take her fur coat and worn down boots before stepping out into the wild. There is nothing quite like the feeling of laying your feet down upon the snow, and hearing that first crunch of ice breaking beneath you. Or the friendly, bitter wind that greets you with pinches on the cheek. She felt the sun smile down at her, and she smiled back.
She knew the forest, like it was a part of her. She knew every branch of the trees, like you'd know the veins upon a lover's hand. She knew every texture and every smell, the scent of cedars, pine and rainy skies. She knew the tracks of beasts, foxes and deer alike. She knew the hunting call of wolves and the songs of birds.
She knew all. All but that lake. The quiet, frozen lake.
Day by day, sunrise by sunrise, Aurae noticed herself edging a little closer toward that place. Perhaps it was subconscious, or perhaps on purpose, she did not know. Though eventually she began to visit it again, just like she did as a child, when she felt there was no place else in the world for her.
Upon stepping into the lake's proximity, she immediately discovered something odd there. No, not the necromancer man. Not that it mattered; Aurae was not trying to look for him (or at least, that's what she kept convincing herself.)
She found something else: something she had not found in a while. A strange, peculiar sense of peace.
There was no doubt. Her soul felt at rest here. But why was she surprised, had she expected something more sinister? Yet looking into the icy water, nothing appeared to be hidden. All was as clear as crystal, like the shimmer of a looking-glass, transparent and true. She gazed into her reflection, and it gazed back, with eyes as sweet as snowfall.