From that moment on, the days blurred together. The venomous stares as he left his village were but a distant memory, as was the foraging and hunting and irritation at having no map. Only the standout moments in those few weeks stuck. The pack of deer that fled from sight in an instant, the first bite of wild-cooked venison, the terrified faces of the bandits as they saw just how foolish they were in challenging him.

According to Corvus, it was a rather uneventful time. Gilgamesh was inclined to agree, with a little surprise considering how passive and talkative Gill had been.

Corvus didn’t talk much. There was nothing to talk about, no feelings, not pains, no complaints.

Only the occasional question when a flash of memory resurfaced, possibly not for days on end. There was one thing that kept Corvus’ mind going, which Gilgamesh was always stubbornly evasive about, which was the reason behind all the magic, the visions, the murder and the sudden reappearance of The Recluse King Gilgamesh himself.

Corvus decided to ask again anyway, while tearing bark off a nearby tree in search of dry tinder.

“What exactly will I find when I get to the people I saw?” Corvus called into the empty woods, the noise echoing through the dark undergrowth, causing small rustlings in the gaps between the sunbeams.

“I hate repeating myself.” Gilgamesh complained, suddenly lounging on a moss covered rock. “It’s not my place to tell you things that will change your path.”

Corvus dug his fingers into the wood of the tree, causing it to crack and snap.

“Then tell me what I’ll find.” Corvus’ voice was completely vacant of feeling. He was only asking because he didn’t know.

Gilgamesh only shook his head.

Corvus lifted his hand, taking the massive oak with it, sending massive cracks and tears into the earth around him as the roots shredded the soil around him. The birds that were roosting there realised their mistake and flew away in sheer terror for their lives. The thundering crunches and groaning breaks sent shockwaves through the air, slamming echoes against the misty depths of green. The rays of the midday sun broke through the new openings in the canopy, sending splinters of light down in unnatural patterns. Corvus looked up in curiosity, playing with the light on his eyes.

“Someone’s there.” Gilgamesh noted amusingly, basking in a large patch of sunlight.

Corvus tore his hand from the tree, sending it hammering into the soil with an ear splitting collapse of roots, wood and leaves. His hands flew to his belt in a blur, snatching his broadsword from his belt and pointing it to his right, while his left pulled Raven free and pointed her in the opposite direction.

The air stilled in pure, ceaseless silence. There was no rustling, no scuttling and no disturbance of breath. It was as if everything stopped, as if the tension had frozen the world solid. There was a flicker out of the corner of Corvus’ eye and he turned like a bolt of lighting to point Raven towards it. A leaf. More than a few leaves. Hundreds and thousands of leaves falling like a quiet, peaceful cloud.

“They must’ve fallen when I moved the tree.” Corvus noted, shrugging.

“Excuse me.” A woman’s voice spoke with an air of caution from behind him.

Corvus span himself on the ball of his foot, dropping to his knee and pointing his weapons in the direction of the sound. They met the guarded gaze of a women, her hands expertly handling a spear that was pointed at Corvus in the same fashion as his own sword. She held herself perfectly still, a predator waiting for her prey to make a wrong move. Corvus decided that, while her manner was that of a seasoned killer, it wouldn’t hurt to see if she was just acting in self defence, after all, he was the one that pointed the gun in the first place.

Corvus lowered his weapons and rose to his his feet, brushing the soil and leaves from his knees. The woman looked surprised by how easily he lowered his weapons and kept her spear trained on his neck just in case. Corvus sheathed his broadsword and holstered Raven, putting her hammers back down for safety, silently meeting the woman’s stare throughout the ever-mounting tension.

“Yes?” Corvus asked, tilting his head. “You were going to ask something.”

With that, the tension broke as she shook her head slightly in mild shock. She seemed to be weighing up if she thought Corvus was insane or not. She slowly lowered her spear, keeping her guard up all the while.

“I, uhh, yes. Did you hear that noise?” She stumbled over her words, trying to find sense in the confusion of her mind.

Now that Corvus was standing, he could study her features more easily. She was around the same height as him, if a little taller, with quietly cautious green eyes. Her dark-red skin blended into her brown hair seamlessly, making her expression extremely difficult to read. The long spear that she held was incredibly well made and almost as tall as she was. It had beautifully etched markings in the sturdy but lightweight handle with a shimmering, almost shining blade at the end, with similar such markings.

That spear was far from the only weapon she carried though. Her belt was decorated with small knives and daggers that were bound in black leather to match them to her black and dark green clothing and light armour pieces. There were two short-spears on her back, clearly meant to be concealed but they were visible now, as if they were ready to be grabbed at a moments notice. She wore nothing on her arms, clearly showing the dark, twisting tattoos that seemed to warp and distort on the surface of her skin. They were different, and shifted into a whole spectrum of shapes and patterns.

Corvus blinked. She seemed familiar, as if he’d walked passed her before, or seen her on a street somewhere. He couldn’t place her but he knew that she was someone that he’d seen before.

Corvus noted the guarded expression that she held and decided he should break the silence by answering her question.

“Yes. It was a tree.” Corvus stated, unmoved.

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She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again, still unsure if Corvus was insane or not.

“I…see. If a tree fell though, where is it? The sound came from around here.”

Corvus pointed to the tree that he lifted earlier, then to the ground that had been torn up around it.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re saying that this tree fell and then raised itself again?” Her voice was thick with irritated disbelief.

“Yes.” Corvus blinked, curious as to why she was still confused about it.

Her expression signalled that she was getting a headache.

“Oh…ok then. Safe travels.” She sighed, turning and walking away.

Corvus was about to do the same, but a flash of memory stopped him in his tracks. That physique, that spear, that hair, he'd seen it before. It was fuzzy but it was definitely there.

“Do I know you?” Corvus spoke without thinking, but decided there was nothing wrong with asking.

She turned, surprised and cautious once more. She stealthily moved her right hand to have a better line to her knives. The movement was small, barely noticeable, but Corvus saw.

“Be careful, boy.” Gilgamesh called from his sunbathed patch of moss.

“No. you don’t.” Her voice was hard and authoritative, though not to the level of Gilgamesh.

Corvus scratched his head. The image was clearing up slightly.

“Are you sure?” Corvus looked to the ground, tapping the side of his head, trying to find the memories. “There was…a blacksmith?” His memories began to splinter back into shape. “A dark forest?” And suddenly he remembered everything clearly again. “Oh yeah.” Corvus snapped his fingers in recognition.

“You were crying.” Corvus looked back up, but instead of seeing her face as before, he saw a black skull, cloaked in black aura, flying towards his face.

He moved his head to the side and it flew past, blowing a hole in a tree behind him. Corvus looked back around and saw her face. It was a mask of embarrassment, rage and murderous intent. The tattoo on her left arm was coiling violently, sending waves of black energy to her hand, forming another skull. Her expression shifted slightly into shock.

“How did you see that? Are you a spy? Why aren’t you dead?” She spoke through her seething breaths, her eyes almost tearing up.

Corvus brushed some dust off his shoulder.

“A dream. No. You missed.”

Her face flushed red, as she snatched her spear up again.

“I didn’t miss! Can’t you feel that?” She was either crying or shouting or both, Corvus couldn’t tell.

“Hmm?” Corvus was confused for a moment. He couldn’t feel anything particularly lethal happening. At least until he looked down. One of her knives was imbedded in his chest, just right of his heart. Exactly the right spot to disable him but not outright kill him. Corvus pulled the knife out and cleaned the blade on his clothes. He studied the markings on the blade.

“Nice knife.” Corvus complimented honestly. He bent over and carefully placed it on a nearby patch of leaves. No use in ruining such a lovely weapon. He tried to stand back up, but was launched back by one of her skulls, rocketing him into the same tree that the first one hit. He slammed into it with a sickening crunch or wood splinters. The tree began to fall to the left with thunderous snaps and cracks. Corvus reached out his hand and embedded it in the falling trunk, catching it before it was out of reach. He broke it from its base and lifted it onto his shoulder.

The sounds of her gasps were quickly overshadowed by the flapping of hundreds of large wings. A cloud of black enveloped both of them, beating them and the surroundings with strong feathers and winds. Then everything settled and what happened became clear.

Crows. Hundreds of crows. Perching on nearby branches, tree stumps, even the ground to watch this unfolding spectacle. One of them, behind the woman, cawed loudly. She turned slightly in cautious paranoia. It's call was met by one that was beside Corvus. And another. And another. One by one they all began calling out. The woman was getting nervous, glancing around, expecting to be attacked from all sides. Corvus’ gaze hadn’t moved. He was staring at her with an intensity that old only be describes as terrifying.

A lone black feather fluttered into view, tumbling down, weaving through the gaps in the sunbeams. The woman regained her composure, returning Corvus’ gaze with her own bloodlust. The feather swept down on the tiny wisps of wind, hovering inches above the disturbed earth. The inches grew smaller and smaller, sliding further down. The combat of gaze was tense and steady, ready to explode at any moment.

The feather fluttered to a stop.

Corvus aimed and threw the tree like a spear towards her, sending a gust that caused half the crows to almost lose their balance. The trunk barrelled through the air, pushed back by the mass of leaves that caught the air, and crashed into where she once stood. In her place was a small residue of shadowy clouds.

Something moved on the ground. Corvus’ eyes locked onto a leaping shadow that darted between the beams of light at incredible speeds. Then it jumped. The shadow grew into its full size. It was the woman, the tattoo on her right arm was receding from the shadows, as if it was clinging to them. She aimed her spear for his neck and let her weight pull herself down towards him. She was too close to use Raven on, so he reached for his sword and tugged it free, lifting it to guard his top half.

The steel clashed with a harsh and ear-biting scrape as she drove a killing blow downwards while Corvus levered her over his head. His strength won. He spun her over his shoulder and threw her to the ground. She landed in an expert roll, quickly shifting her spear in an arc towards his head.

Corvus’ reflexes led his sword into a guard, catching the blow just shy of his eye. He levered himself over her blade, striking his elbow towards her head. The tattoo on her right arm glowed violently, sending ribbons of inky blackness down, grasping and pulling the shadows beneath her. Corvus’ elbow never connected, as she melted into the darkness just before the impact.

Corvus stumbled slightly, before hastily searching the gaps between the beams of sun. He caught Gilgamesh snoring out of the corner of his eye, and sighed at how useless he was being. A crow cawed behind him, causing him to spin on his heel and point his broadsword towards the sound. It met the surprised face of the woman, just shy of her neck. They both stood motionless.

She had never seen anyone catch her off guard before, so she was in momentary shock, but Corvus was taking that moment to think of how to tell Gilgamesh that he was being extremely unhelpful. A count of five passed in the silence, then she came to her senses and restarted the fight.

She batted the sword aside and sent her spear spiking downwards. Corvus’ arm switched to a higher guard, catching the steel in a scraping screech that cause the crows to caw in complaint. She backed off slightly, tossing her spear to her right hand, and threw it, aiming for Corvus’ heart.

He caught it and dropped it to the earth with a thud, readying his blade again as she charged in, now weaponless. At least until she suddenly had one of her short-spears in her right hand, swiping down for Corvus’ eyes. He brought his guard back up, catching the lighter blow on his blade, but in that instant, he saw what she was doing next.

A dagger, aimed at his neck, soared through his guard. He took it through the hand, pulling her arm down with it. A look of apprehensive caution flashed in her eyes.

“Sorry. Someone tried that already.” Corvus apologised.

He pushed her back, causing her to almost trip and fall on the loose ground. Corvus held up his wounded hand, watching the hole stitch its flesh back together. Her eyes widened slightly at the spectacle as she re-sheathed her other weapons and snatched her spear back off the ground.

Corvus returned his gaze to her, readying his guard once more. Then something about her changed. The murderous bloodlust that she once had was gone. Her anger and embarrassment were gone. Even her caution and guard was gone.

The crows began a whole new choir of caws and terrified squawks as an aura of cold focus emanated from her. She took a step forward, the world seemed to move around her like a terrified swarm of insects, parting to avoid her. Her eyes showed nothing, her movements were efficient. At that moment, a thought crossed Corvus’ mind.

‘How much stronger is she?’