Every time the sky lets out a drop, the clock moves by a wish.

There was no rain now, only smoke and dirt. And two coffins, both too early buried to be enlightened. Thomas Hammer watched them, in doubt. It had been some time since he had decided that it was all a dream he had to see until the end in order to be free of manipulative princesses and dead companions.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, Hammer,” remarked the man who did his best to make the lid of the coffins too heavy for the dead to roam around. “What have you been up to?”

Thomas looked at him but was too distracted by his shovel to think of a proper answer. “Oh, you know… this and that.”

The man smiled. “They are missing you at the bakery. They are having trouble finding such a devoted underling.”

Thomas returned the smile, but the sound of metal and dirt was too loud to form a proper thought.

“They are hoping you would come back,” the man insisted, struggling to pull up the shovel he had filled with too much dirt. “Can you help me out, man?”

Thomas saw George’s eyes watch him through the lid. Jeremy was saying something cynical again, so he didn’t pick up the shovel. He turned around and, ignoring the shouts of the tired man, made his way home.

Thomas was alone now. Isaac had to go back to Florus, and he was the only other person who had attended the double funeral, the only one lost in the sudden surge of fog. Thomas didn’t want to think about Diane. He didn’t even want to acknowledge her existence. “You can go if you want, though I don’t see why you would” was what she had told him when he asked her about the funeral. He was ready to be her friend, but she didn’t want friends. She only wanted people to die for her so she could miss their funerals. And then there was his mother as well. He resented her only half-way. The other half knew she did it for his good. But then again it had brought no good. He had been thinking about all that for six days, and the only conclusion he had reached was that he needed to become stronger. Diane Hunster had no intention of babysitting him anymore; she made that painfully clear.

He wondered if he should ring the bell. His house was quiet, and he knew there were Ravens inside. When he had arrived with the unconscious Diane in his arms a few days prior, he had had to put her in the room she used to sleep in as his mother was unconscious on the couch. He was scared of what he had thought then. That it would be better if she were dead because he wouldn’t have to sit through her empty apologies. He had wanted Diane to live, though. He had wanted to yell at her, to tell her how she had betrayed him even though she was the only one who understood how terrified he was of acknowledging his incompetence. And when he had briefly seen her after she had woken up, the only thing he could do was thank her for being alive.

He took off his shoes when he walked in, as there was dirt on them. His steps were needlessly light; the only person sleeping was his mother. The Ravens nodded at him, and he went inside the living room. After his mother had woken up and they had had their moment of reconciliation, it was time to move past the plastic acceptance; a big, gray cloud moved over the house. The smell of rain repressed the smoke and, for a moment, it was possible to breathe. But we have nothing to fight judgment with. It is imprinted in our code, an inseparable part of our consciousness. We have nothing to demolish fear and sadness with, nothing to draw out the smiles filling the cracks of our skulls. But just as every tear dries and every sob is blown away by the wind, glimpses of happiness stay hidden in the vast valleys of our brains'. We just need to learn to notice them.

“Tell me,” Fiona said. “I can see it in your eyes. Do you resent me?”

“Slightly,” Thomas replied, the tea in his cup threatening to become cold. “I am confused more than anything. I might resent you in a few weeks.”

Fiona put her cup down. She noticed the changed sparks in his eyes, the powerful air that surrounded him, and the confidence in his posture. Yet, he was still her son. “And will you forgive me?”

“In a few years.”

Fiona smiled. Her tea was long cold. “That’s nice of you, Thomas.”

“I know you did it to protect me. I would have done the same for my kid. It’s just… It’s difficult to comprehend. My whole life has been a lie.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Fiona lay back down. “Of course. It’s normal to be angry. ”

“Strangely, I am not angry with you.”

Fiona closed her eyes and turned her head to the side. “That means you had expectations.”

Thomas sighed. “I shouldn’t have. She told me not to.”

“I’ve never liked the Hunsters,” Fiona replied. “There is something sinister in the way they talk. When I first saw Diane in our house, I wondered if what I had done made any sense.”

“You knew?”

“Of course I did. The reason why you didn’t was because I didn’t want you to have anything to do with her. But now it seems to me like I was wrong. Maybe she isn’t as wicked as I had thought.”

“Then why did you pretend like you didn’t know?”

Fiona smiled. “Because, for the first time in your life, you looked alive.”

The conversation died out more quickly than ever. Fiona could feel tears on her lips, and Thomas was too busy forgiving her; luckily, there is nothing on the planet mothers cannot be forgiven.

“So, the Ravens are a part of this… thing?” Thomas asked to hide his slightly blushing face.

“Yes. Clara Heal created the Ravens to help out, though things have changed in ways none of us couldn’t have imagined. One of them includes the existence of a headstrong princess. Not an ideal Dove by all means. I met her and George when they were young, though she doesn’t seem to remember it.”

Thomas narrowed his eyebrows; chills were running rampant on his skin. None of it felt real. “You have? Why?”

Fiona shivered as well. “There used to be a time when I knew everything. I don’t anymore. And it scares me. I can’t tell you what I know because it doesn’t seem valid anymore.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Nothing in this world makes sense. That is the world you are now a part of,” she replied, with desperation splattered allover her face.

“You don’t have to worry, mom,” Thomas said after silence had taken over the town. “I will never become like her.”

Fiona looked at him again. “I sincerely hope you won’t, love.”

Again, they were silent. Maybe Thomas didn’t have any more questions, maybe he wanted to leave some for Diane. Maybe the sky had cleared too much, or maybe he wanted to know what his second power was. He could clearly see his mother was bothered by something and wanted to use his last chance to uncover new truths and leave the lies in the past.

“What is it?” Thomas asked Fiona.

She was looking out the window and into Diane’s eyes; the way she seemed composed was too ominous. “No, it’s just… now that you’ve mentioned it… Diane worries me. She is much more fragile than I thought. I guess her cracks are also beginning to show.”

Thomas felt the mist enter the room through the window; it was thick and blinding. “What do you mean by that?” he asked.

Fiona looked around and leaned towards him a bit. “You and Diane have to stick together, no matter what. Do you understand? Don't trust anyone but her.”

“But aren’t we all on the same side?” Thomas inquired.

Fiona’s smile was filled with sadness. “Not if She can help it. This world, Thomas, is filled with anomalies. They will keep Diane around as long as she’s obedient. The moment she becomes too headstrong, they will abandon her. That is why you must be there to help her or we are doomed. Diane Hunster wants peace. Clara Heal… I am not too sure.”

Then, one of the Ravens entered the room. It was evident from how she held her spear that she had been listening to their conversation. Her green eyes disapproved of every word Fiona had uttered. Thomas quickly glanced at the window and wondered if he would be able to break it fast enough to escape.

“Can we help you, dear? Do you mind my talking with my son privately, like this?” Fiona asked and Thomas shivered. It was now too evident that everything leading up to that point was pure deception.

“Not at all.”

Thomas was cold and sleepy. He wondered if that was why every word sounded so crooked.

“She will be here soon,” the girl remarked, still looking at them suspiciously.

Fiona obediently lay back on the couch and fell asleep. None of them had time to think about a Flamer whose life was falling apart. He wanted to talk to someone, to talk about anything at all, even about George and Jeremy if it meant not thinking about himself and Diane. It was too late for them to play friends now; there was only one’s duty and the other’s regret.

“You will have to choose a side, Mr. Hammer,” the girl remarked at some point, her hand never moving from her sword. “I hope you will choose the right one.”

“Excuse me?” Thomas let out, quickly glancing at his mother who was, no doubt, soundly asleep.

“You heard me,” she insisted. “We have all made our choice. Being the Fool doesn’t make you any different.”

“How do you…”

“I’m a Raven. It’s what I do.”

Thomas reclined in the sofa and let out a deep sigh. Then he closed his eyes and played back everything that had happened since that awful September night.

I should have run.