One Vengeance - Raven's Scheme

Normally, whenever Raven wrote to his beloved, the words flowed. Ink weaved the pattern of his affection without interruption. But tonight, he was at a loss for words. As he sat at his desk, Raven tapped the pandora pen on the flattop, unnerved by his vacillation. The sheet of paper lay nearly blank. Only “My Dearest Noelle,” was scribed at the top.

And now… nothing.

But of course, that wasn’t true. Raven’s mind churned with the thoughts and feelings he wished to convey. It was now six months since their parting. Her mission was underway, same as his. And since then, he’d written her at least once every week. Her most recent letter back to him lay open nearby. She had told him of her recent challenges and setbacks. The development of her new lady in waiting. About the troubles she faced in her own path to vengeance. He sensed her uncertainty, her fear.

However, instead of mustering the key words to strengthen her resolve, Raven found himself grappling with his own obstacles. The conundrum of the locked door in the Rail, the exasperating Marcus Shrale, the tedious task of matchmaking Van to Valentine, the challenges to the masters, the mystery key of Fanny’s, and…

The unknown soul.

Raven was utterly perplexed by it. He looked aside. The reticent pandora floated above the apex of a stand, slowly rotating in place. And still it spoke in melancholy whispers.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

How it vexed him these past weeks. Why did this pandora have the exact same design as Rue’s? What was the connection? He’d tried speaking with the person within. No different reply came forth. He’d checked his best sources. Nothing could provide even a hint of the answers he sought. It was the capstone on a halt in the progress Raven had enjoyed earlier in the school year. And time slowly ebbed.

News had reached Roespeye a week ago that the Titan had massacred a town in the region of Saphioc. At least five hundred men and women dead. As usual, it was a sensation for only a short time in the city. The citizens of Fallowreyk were numb to such reports. One could only hope the Titan didn’t come for you.

Normally, nothing aggravated Raven, but he was stuck in a bog. And the news of the Titan’s latest act reignited his fury. Something had to change. He needed a new scheme, and he was determined to create one. He only regretted that it was momentarily costing Noelle something precious.

A knock on the door interrupted Raven’s thoughts. Van entered the room.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Van was dressed in a fine suit. Black jacket and trousers with a dark blue vest. A small flower adorned his lapel, and a gray silk scarf wrapped around his neck. Raven issued a small sigh and stood.

Van nodded in approval. “Not bad.”

Raven had acquired a suit of his own in town. It featured none of the embellishments only Van could pull off, but it was tailored well. And a black bow tie gave it some flair.

“I half expected you to wear your robes,” Van joked.

“I considered it. But making a lasting impression on the Chessex family could prove invaluable in the end. I will make the most of this opportunity.”

“We’re expected at seven. I don’t want to be late.”

“We’re off then.”

The dinner to which Valentine invited Raven and Van was to be held at her family’s estate. As far as Raven knew, they were the only attendees, but the invitations she gave them some weeks ago were weighty and fine, apprising them of an auspicious event in waiting.

Van, of course, was blustery about the whole thing. Never had Raven seen him so worked up about something. While he was inwardly pleased Van was advancing toward his goal, his puppy-like manner further reminded Raven of how long it had been since he’d last seen Noelle. He missed her. Once they returned from the dinner, he was determined to finish the letter.

Chessex Manor was located south of the city, further down the mountain where snow possessed lessened dominance. A closed horse-drawn carriage had been arranged to pick the boys up by the pool, which was waiting for them when they arrived in the square. Raven smirked when he saw it was Simon LeGee. The coachman took one look at Raven, gulped, and hid his face. The boys climbed in, and they were off in a moment, passing beyond the city wall and descending the mountain.

Raven had not left the city since his first arrival. He took in the view with interest. The Bomfrosts were just beginning to lose their supplies of snow; branches poked out from the enormous masses every so often. Still, the sight of them offered little comfort, a graveyard of snow.

But further down, they no longer had such presence, and the first true signs of spring appeared. Grass popped up in odd tufts through the lingering slush, and pine trees dared to exist. In fact, they grew so heartily this far down the massif, they formed a thick forest through which the path winded a labyrinthine trek. After a jaunt through the maze, the thicket broke into a wide glen. Snow droplets glistened on millions of blades of long grass, twinkling in waves as they rustled. A pebble-paved avenue preceded Chessex Manor, a classic estate, lavish in all respects.

LeGee pulled into the courtyard and let them out. No sooner had they stepped off before he was away again.

“Uh… I sure hope he knows to come back for us later,” Van said as they watched him go.

A biting breeze whisked through the empty courtyard. They were quite alone.

“I think I made a lasting impression on him a while back,” Raven said.

“Aww, he knows you?” Van whined. “He’s definitely not coming back.”

The large set of burgundy doors opened, and warm light embraced them, followed by delicate music. Valentine stepped out to join them, smiling pristinely. She wore an extravagant black dress and long gloves. Her shoes were mismatched. One white, one black.

Van’s mouth stood agape. “Wow… you look really beautiful.”

“Quite,” Raven said.

Valentine’s smile brightened further. “You boys look quite dashing yourselves. I am so glad you both came. Please come inside.”

They followed her into a wide entrance hall, where Valentine’s parents waited.

Hershel and Ophelia Chessex were opposites in every way imaginable. Valentine’s father was a hulking boulder, towering over his wife. His broad chest could not be contained by the fur-maned coat, and a single hand covered the small of Ophelia’s back. But despite his intimidating presence, a smile somehow appeared behind a mighty mustache.

Ophelia did not smile, though her countenance proved just as warm. She possessed the regality of her daughter and even greater refinement. No two people could have suited Chessex Manor more.

“Mother, Father…” Valentine said as they approached. “This is Vanyard von Sephim and Raven Whitesong, my classmates.”

“Much more than that!” Hershel said, as he clapped Van on the back, nearly sending him flying.

“Darling, please,” Ophelia reprimanded. “I do apologize for my husband’s crassness.”

“It’s no problem,” Raven replied with a smile as Van stifled a cough. His eyes were watering.

“Yes… no… problem,” he gasped.

“We are thrilled you have joined us tonight,” Ophelia said. “We have wanted to extend this invitation for some time. While we didn’t know quite what to think about the events that transpired with our daughter, we have since come to realize how incredibly fortunate we are. You saved our child from a terrible fate, and we are forever in your debt.”

“You’re very welcome,” Van replied, rubbing the back of his head.

A waiter approached with a silver tray.

“Drinks?” Hershel asked as he took an enormous stein from the tray. “We have ale imported all the way from Reyk Zaliance.”

Van’s eyes lit up. But Ophelia turned quickly. “Um, darling? No, no, no. They are underage. But we do have cherry fizzy. Three cups for the children, please.”

Raven smiled while Van did his best not to appear devastated.

“Oh, what’s the harm?” Hershel exclaimed. “You think they’ve never had a beer? Am I right, Van?”

He roared with laughter and clapped him on the back again. Van’s cherry fizzy spilled everywhere.

“Oh dear,” Ophelia said with a hand on her face.

As she apologized to her waiter and kindly requested for his assistance to clean the mess, Valentine took Van’s arm and pulled him close. “Don’t say anything. Follow my lead,” she whispered.

He nodded.

“Father?” she said. “Van’s father used to be our groundskeeper. I’m sure you remember him.”

“Of course. Von Sephim was the best. I was sad to lose him.”

“Well, Van is familiar with the grounds, but hasn’t been to Chessex Manor in a while. Would you mind if I showed him the gardens?”

“Not at all. Raven, what about you, son?”

Raven looked from Hershel to his friends.

Van’s eyes said it all. Please, please, please, please.

“Uh, no… I think I’m alright, Lord Chessex. In fact, Valentine tells me you have astounding hunting acumen. Do you have a trophy room?”

“‘Do I have a trophy room?’ he says.” Hershel laughed and squeezed Raven close, gripping his shoulder like a vice. “I don’t know if you’re interested or just trying to get further into my good graces, but either way, my trophy room you shall see. To the Lodge!”

“Oh, but we have such lovely starter dishes waiting for us in the music room,” Ophelia protested.

“We’ll get to those,” Hershel said as he led Raven through a side door. “Don’t worry, love,” he called.

“Dinner is in one hour!” But the door had closed.

Van and Valentine were gone as well.

Ophelia sighed, looking around the suddenly quiet hall. She placed a hand on her face and turned to her butler. “Well… are you hungry, by any chance?”

Valentine did not take Van to the gardens. In fact, he found himself ascending stairs to a separate wing of the manor. But he was barely processing this fact. Valentine led him by the hand, and the only thought he could handle was his wonder of what her skin must feel like under the glove. Like a sheep, he followed without question or complaint. In short time, she led them into a quiet hallway and opened a wide door bedecked with dried flowers.

“My wing,” she said, letting go of his hand and walking inside.

“Your wing?” Van repeated as he walked in. “You mean… your room?”

“It’s a bit more than a room.”

Valentine’s chambers were humbling in their size. Cathedral style ceilings featured more than one hanging chandelier, and several rooms were connected to the space. One wall facing to the west was entirely glass, with a wide balcony just beyond, overlooking the gardens. Van knew exactly where he was. As a child, he had watched Valentine from afar, standing on that same balcony. But he had never known the entire place was all her own.

“Come,” she said, leading him there.

She opened double glass doors, and a chilly breeze met their faces. A small table was awaiting them on the marble deck. A bottle of wine sat in a bucket of ice next to three glasses.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Cherry Fizzy isn’t my drink of choice. But I let my mother believe I’m still a little girl every now and then.”

“I guess you were expecting Raven to join us,” he said, noting the third glass. He felt a bit crestfallen.

“Yes… but I was hoping he wouldn’t.” She smiled as she proceeded to open the bottle.

Van’s heart thumped in his chest. Did she prepare all this just for me? Is this really happening?

The chill of the night helped to cool his burning face. Afraid he might be perspiring, he turned away to look out over the gardens. How many times had he wished he could have joined her on this balcony? Too many to count.

“Do you remember them?” she asked, coming alongside him and handing him his glass.

“The gardens? Very much,” he replied. “Your dad has kept them the same.”

“Because he always loved how your father kept them. He insisted our new groundskeeper keep them exactly the same.” She laughed. It was like music. “He was so upset to see him go.”

Van nodded. “So was my dad. But we had to. Moriland Manor was so much closer to our hut, with much less land to manage. I think he has some regret about it, even today, but he made the best decision.”

There was a small silence as they looked out over the gardens together.

“How is he?” she asked.

Van breathed deep. “He’s… dying.”

“Oh Van.” She put her hand on his. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. But it’s… alright. He’s had a good long life. He’s content and our family will be able to continue on at Moriland. He intended to commit to the Morborium, but now he’s thinking he might be against it.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“I think so, too. I doubted for a while, but Raven is convincing me it might be the right choice.”

“He truly hates the practice,” she agreed, taking a sip of her wine. She took a deep breath and shook her head. “We live in such an uncertain world. The recent tragedy in Saphioc reminds me of that. Those poor people the Titan killed. It’s refreshing to know someone who is so certain of himself.”

“You’ve always seemed just as certain to me.”

“I wish that were true. If anything, I’ve been the complete opposite. I can’t remember ever being certain of anything. Always fretting. Always feeling afraid.”

Van watched her intently as she spoke. Her eyes reflected sadness and doubt, and a small frown marred her lovely face. He pointed to a large tree in the distance. “Do you see that maple tree? The one with the two branches peeking over that wall?”

“Yes.”

“I used to watch you from that tree when I was a boy.”

“I know.” She smiled again.

“You do?”

“I used to watch you, too. Maybe not so blatantly.” She laughed. “But I always saw you.”

“I was never good at making friends. Working to make ends meet doesn’t give a kid a lot of time to fraternize with others. But, when I saw you, I was encouraged. You had so much more to worry about in life. Such sorrow. I knew I had nothing to complain about. It made me want to reach out to you, but then one day, you were gone. You went back home to Lamgard, and I suddenly felt very empty.”

Valentine looked at him with such a penetrating gaze. She was searching his eyes with so much ardor and contemplation. She drew closer and he faced her.

“I never knew,” she said.

“I’m glad, though. I know it’s silly, considering we’d barely ever spoken to each other, but when you left, it made me want to become something more. To do something with my life that mattered. So that one day I could… well, anyway… that’s when I joined the Thimbles. And it was because of you.” He rubbed the back of his head. “So, thank you, Valentine. You changed my life. More than you could ever know.”

She smiled. A gust whipped her long hair into a momentary frolic.

“The day Luc died, I remember it so vividly,” she said. “My father knew I would be next. He made preparations to return home, thinking it might help. But my own Division started almost immediately. I can’t begin to describe what a pall came over this place. It was like I had already died. My mother wept constantly. My father sank into a restless rage over his helplessness. And I… well I felt numb. This balcony was my only respite, a place to harbor no anger or sadness over my fate, but rather to dream and perhaps, hope. I think this is why I remember you so vividly. When you were watching me, I didn’t feel so alone. I didn’t feel afraid. Van, I think you changed my life as well.” She chuckled. “Actually, I know you did. But even before I had the privilege to meet you properly.”

For the next hour, Van lived out a dream, conversing alone with the girl he desired so fervently. They chatted non-stop about anything and everything, and he realized in that moment how happy she was. It was like she was experiencing normal life for the first time, unabashed in her joy for it. And she was sharing it with him.

“I wish I had mustered up the courage to talk to you before you left,” he said when the conversation returned to their childhood. “I wanted to.”

“It worked out in the end,” she replied. “Though I was sad to leave Roespeye, it was good that I returned home when I was sick. Going home helps. It always helps.”

“School is on official hiatus as of today. I’m assuming you’re going back home soon?”

“Tomorrow actually. We need to drink from our pool, and the journey is a long one. I look forward to going home again, but that’s why I wanted to have this dinner tonight. I’ll be gone for a while.”

She blushed and looked down, fingering her glass. “I will miss you,” she said quietly. Then quickly, “And Raven, of course.”

Van took her hand, and she looked up at him. “I will miss you, too,” he said.

He tried desperately to calm the tremble in his limbs. He wanted this moment to last forever, but her own shiver in the cold night signaled the end drew near. Still, she continued to look at him so pressingly, as if she expected something. He swallowed hard.

Did he dare kiss her?

Before he could decide, the door to the balcony opened. It was Valentine’s butler, looking harried.

“Miss? You’d better come. Dinner is nearly ready, and your other guest is… well he’s causing something of a commotion.”

“Oh dear.”

Van scowled. Curse you, Raven!

“We’d better go,” Valentine said.

They hurried back through the halls of the manor, though not too quickly, for which Van was grateful. Valentine produced a peppermint candy from a pocket in her dress and began sucking on it furiously.

Blushing, she gave one to him as well. “My mother really doesn’t approve of young people drinking alcohol. She’s actually really strict about it.”

She led him by a new route toward what Van assumed was the dining hall, but before they arrived, the sound of laughter met their ears. They stopped and looked at each other with odd expressions. The laughter dancing through the hallway was uproarious and gleeful.

“That’s my mother!” Valentine exclaimed. They hurried down the corridor, and she opened double doors to a large banquet hall.

At a long table sat Hershel, Ophelia, and Raven. Plates full of food sat untouched in front of them. And they all held large mugs. Ophelia was laughing uncontrollably, red-faced and clearly inebriated. Hershel took a long drink from his mug before slamming it on the table and joining her in the revelry. And Raven sat primly, just as red-faced, with half-closed eyes and a goofy smile.

“And that’s not the best part,” Raven slurred, bracing himself on the table so as not to fall over. “When I told the chief where his pet bear was that we…” He hiccupped. “…borrowed, he raced to the kitchen storeroom! And when he opened the doors, he found his big ol’ bear. And he was sleeping. Completely knocked out from having eaten every single bit…” He hiccupped. “…of food they possessed.”

Hershel and Ophelia again burst into laughter. Raven smiled and tried to drink from his mug, but it was empty. He frowned and turned the glass upside-down, as if to make sure there was no more ale. That was when he noticed Van and Valentine, staring at them in stupor.

“Oh, Vanyard!” he shouted, overjoyed. “Come join us! Come join us! I was just telling the story of my encounter with Chief Fillyfally of Reyk Mune some time ago.”

“I thought it was Chief Fillenfall?” Hershel snickered.

Ophelia howled. “Chief Fillyfally!”

“What is going on here?” Valentine asked, aghast.

“Good news!” Raven replied. “Your lovely mother was just telling me how much fun your trip home to Lamgard is. And they invited us to join!” He hiccupped. “Isn’t that great? What a wonderful idea!”

He hiccupped again and lifted his empty mug. “Now, Hershel. Where can a lad get more beer around here? Mine seems to have run off somewhere.”