Diane's behavior was unexpected, but the new name was even more so.

While she spoke my attention was caught by something moving under the streetlights. My senses were always attuned so I wouldn't be taken by surprise, and I honed in on it. Through the glass and below a streetlamp, a raven jumped around. It tossed its head about in the glow for bird reasons far beyond human comprehension. Always having been a fan of ravens, upon seeing one I must have mumbled it out loud.

The next thing I knew, I was 'Sir Raven.' It was quite the mysterious villain name, so I had to thank Diane for giving me a tasteful pseudonym.

Trekking back to the Swine's Haul had been for the attempt at coercing Diane to work for me. Even though I couldn't use her now, having no money or land to my name, I was sure she could be useful later on. Better to start early in collecting promising baby chicks to raise. How I would convince her, however, would depend on her reaction to seeing me. In my heart, I hoped she would be grateful, but if that wasn't enough I planned to dig and find her secrets. Find what she longed for. So long as she had the slightest of desires, I was confident I could harness it and make her mine. Gratefulness was too shallow to rely solely on anyway.

Right now I couldn't deal in riches or connections, so desires were my only currency for trade. My status as a 'dirty street urchin' loomed. The frilled white top, mask, and dark pants I wore now helped to curb that impression. I felt thankful for clothing stores with shoddy locks. Accompanied by my long dark cloak and androgynous appearance, I gave off a cultured, mysterious aura.

Diane had fallen for that cultivated look hook line and sinker when I had arrived, making claims I was more than happy to oblige in her assumptions that I had connections to the Outreaches as a rich, criminal overlord.

That was my profession, once. Take the girl out of her criminal lifestyle living body, but you can't take the criminal lifestyle out of the girl.

"A deal?" Diane responded to my question, knees firmly planted on the wooden floor.

I kept my hand outstretched. An energy in the air crackled with potential, and my racing heart fed off every electric pulse. The feeling of taking them under your wing, of taking those desires for yourself; I lived for it.

"I will find your parent's killer, and I will let you take their life with your bare hands. Should you so wish." I began, her eyes growing hungry at the prospect, "and in return, you give me a life for a life."

Diane's face crumpled in confusion. 'What life?' her mind appeared to ponder. I cut in on her racing thoughts, the wind rattling at the windows behind me.

"Your life, for the life you will take. Your subservience and trust. Become one of mine, and I will fulfill your every dark desire," I persuaded, voice sultry and thick with sweet delight as I stepped closer to her. My shadow mixed with hers in a tangle of grey tendrils, backlit by the window light. "This will be our gospel."

The energy, an almost burning sensation continued to well up within me. It bit at my fingertips like frostbite and filled each inch of my limbs with an urge, an ache I couldn't describe. Each moment was tense with wanting, and the surges of power nearly caused me to tremble violently. My heart pumped with the rhythm of a man in battle. Trickling sweat traced my neck, led by an unseen force.

Diane stood up, reaching out her arm. We met in a handshake.

The second our hands touched, a rapid, crazed wind whipped up in the room as though a hurricane had fallen in this very spot. Beams of red, gold, and black light sprung one by one from the gaps between our fingers and where our palms met, followed by a roaring, fiery heat searing at both our hands. The room whistled and ached with force, my body tensing under the stress of something, anything, whatever was happening to me. I should have been afraid, but instead, I was ecstatic. I couldn't help but smile wide with zeal, surely showing Diane a most devilish, toothy expression. With her free hand, Diane blocked her eyes from the blazing light and fierce wind. I held tightly, reinforcing my grip, unable to look away as everything that had been building within me escaped in a terrible, beautiful rage.

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Then it stopped. Just as quickly as it had begun, the wind ceased and the room went dark. Our hands parted ways, falling back to rest at our sides.

Diane fell back down to her knees. Despite my efforts to remain calm, I also stumbled back a step.

'What was that? Never- what the hell is this place? This world?'

My eyes traced over my palms with admiration and fear. Any presumptions I held about this being a simple fantasy world were wrong. It was a fantasy world; one with things that couldn't be explained. Like...

"Magic," Diane whispered, breathless. Her head shot up and she gazed at me, eyes wide in wonder. "You use magic."

I didn't know how to respond.

'What am I?'

If thieving was my job of choice, then deals were what I made with everything I earned. I had been nothing but confident addressing Diane earlier, not missing a beat in asking for her life's dedication. Aim high, act like you own the world. Fake it till you make it. It was hard to remain composed, cool, and confident when something insane happened. I had seen crazy things in my life, but magic was outside the laws of reality. It was the absolute last thing I would have expected. Diane confirmed it, though, and there was no way to deny what had happened.

"What is this?" Diane asked, forcing me back into the moment. She held up her palm to me, showing what looked to be a tattoo. What did she want me to say? Was this a psychological test? Nice ink?

I needed a nap. My body was still too weak for this, even after stealing all the nutritious food I could find at the market.

"It's.." I began to reply, analyzing the marking for an answer. The sigil was composed around a dark circle, through which two lines joined at the bottom. Within the lines was a fiery burst coming from the head of a dragon, which cradled the circle in a pair of magnificent wings. Shadows and specks gave it the appearance of a moon, filled with other detailed symbols I didn't recognize. The whole design was exceptionally intricate and would have been a crowning accomplishment of any tattoo artist.

It felt so...familiar. Like something that had been given to me, specifically. Like it was mine.

"It means," I continued, backing up towards the window, "That I will return for you when the time comes." Swinging around on my heel, I flipped the latch to the window and parked one foot on the open sill. Before anyone could stop me I lept into the night air and towards the road below. The ground was tough on my bony shoulder when it rolled into the stone, but I had safely landed, thus beginning my journey back into the night.

***

Diane latched the window shut once Raven had vanished from sight. It took her a few tries to get the latch in place with her trembling hands. The bed behind her was warm and inviting, but she wasn't sure she could sleep. Bathed in moonlight, the beautiful girl plopped onto her sheets in her brand-new nightgown, the old mattress sinking underneath her from years of use. Her eyes peered through the dark at the still-warm marking on her palm.

Magic.

It was something you knew was real but rarely ever saw. Only the most talented humans could use it, though rumors were that the Dwarves and Elves had their own special version. She attended a festival once with her parents when she was much younger. A magic scholar, an apprentice working at the palace, had performed for them by creating fire from just the palm of his hand. The amazement of the moment remained seared in her mind to this day, and when the light had shone through the room, wind racing through her hair, Diane was reminded of it all.

A newfound confidence twinkled beneath her eyes. Knowing now that the person she had entrusted to help her was capable of magic made anything feel possible. Not only that, but they had chosen her. She could sense it with every breath, pulsing up through the mark in her palm. It wasn't a token of ownership but more so a mark of loyalty. This was something made clear to her by means beyond her understanding. By magic, she supposed. It had a purpose too, powers beyond appearance, but Diane couldn't parse them just yet.

Once Raven returned, she would have the rest of her life serving beside him to figure things out. It had been jarring, deciding to sign her life away. She could only hope she wouldn't live to regret it. If it weren't for him though, she likely would've wasted away in this tavern all her life, forever hungry for revenge but too afraid to take it. Now, she could finally have it. It didn't matter if it took months or years, she lived for the moment that the man who had taken everything from her would lie lifeless at her feet. What about after that, though? It excited her to think about it. With the prospect of revenge finally feeling real, for the first time ever she thought past the bloodshed. What would she help Raven with? What sort of life did she want to build?

"You want more out of this life, don't you Diane?"

Laying back on her bed, Diane was left with even more questions. Things that tumbled through her mind, refusing to be quiet as she pulled the sheets up over her chin, eyes wide gazing at the ceiling. Why had he chosen her, risking so much? What would she be useful for?

...What was Raven's goal?