One Vengeance - Raven's Scheme

Rook Czeslaw collapsed into a plush armchair with an exhausted grunt. Drops of beer slipped from his glass, splashing his robes. His bearded face drooped with disgust. He gulped down half the goblet, then set it aside on a table. Whiskers bristled as he remembered their encounter with Whitesong.

“What do we even make of this?” he growled.

“It’s not like Nine Star hasn’t seen its share of geniuses over the centuries,” Fanny Fyre replied as she entered the masters’ lounge. She took off her black school robe, placing it on a hook beside the door. “This is just the latest one.”

The lounge featured all the comforts a teacher of the academy could desire. Comfortable furniture sat upon a lavish crimson rug. A rack of liquors, wines and cigars was mounted on the wall beside a bell that could be rung to call for food or other items. Portraits of stately former headmasters decorated the stone walls. A pandora was at work cleaning the room. The card wandered about on its own, sucking up dust or trash with powerful force and depositing it into nearby trash bins. Another pandora sat in a nearby pedestal, glowing as it prevented insects or spiders from crawling in through open windows or crevices.

Fanny touched another nearby pandora pedestal. The card ignited, providing more light to the lounge. “Honestly, I’ve been waiting for something like this,” she continued, pouring herself some wine from a decanter. Her tongue stuck out with zeal. “It’s exactly what our school needs.”

“Wrong,” Selim Forir interjected.

Fyre and Czeslaw looked to the corner of the room. Forir stood gazing out of one of the large open windows. His thick eyebrows were still heavily furrowed, and his hands were clasped behind his back. His red bird sat silently on his shoulder.

“This… is a disaster,” he said in his incredibly deep voice, looking at Fyre.

“Oh c’mon, Selim,” she replied, settling into a sofa. She absentmindedly pulled a deck of cards from her pocket and began to shuffle them. “Nothing good ever happens here.”

Forir turned. “You’ve never seen the Titan, have you?” His bird shrilled.

She put on a bored face. “Here we go again.”

Czeslaw harrumphed at her.

“One day, Fanny. One day you will lay eyes on him.” Forir turned back to look out the window. “And your lackadaisical nature about the ruler will be gone. Like the yellow fire of Lamgard’s mountain, realization will shower you in a moment. One day… he will stand before you. And you will shudder. His presence will crush you, and you will only hope that he does not kill you. That he does not strip the very life from your body and snatch your soul away. Or worse, take the soul of someone you love right before your eyes. You can be apathetic about many things, but heed my advice. The Titan owns this world, and because of this student’s actions, his gaze might just focus back on Roespeye.”

“And then it’s hell to pay,” Czeslaw said.

Fyre frowned, slumping in the couch. “What good is it to cower?” she said beneath her breath.

“What was that?”

She sat up straighter. “I’m not an idiot, okay. I know what there is to fear. He scares me, ever since I was a little girl. But what good does it do me to live out that fear? The Titan kills who he wants, right? He wanders the land, killing the strongest and collecting their souls. I know what he is. We all do. But I can’t do anything about it. No one can. And no one can hide from him. So what options do I have? I can either cower or not let it affect me.”

She sighed heavily. “I think that’s why I liked Raven so much. He doesn’t give a pile of crap about the Titan. It was like he was daring the man to come find him, just like he was daring us to reject him from the school. And we flinched, like we always do.”

Czeslaw slammed his goblet on the table. “It must be a world of rainbows and butterflies in that head of yours, Fanny. But we’re talking about peoples’ lives here. It’s been ten years since the Titan has come to Roespeye. Ten years. No people slaughtered in a public spectacle. No bloody streets. We’ve been ignored. That’s success. That’s victory in this world of madness. And some runty brat might have just ruined it. For what?”

Fyre folded her arms. No reply issued forth.

Czeslaw nodded triumphantly. “Exactly. For nothing. You don’t gamble with peoples’ lives. Whitesong is a circus this city doesn’t need, and I’m going to do everything in my power to see that boy expelled. I still can’t believe Panka didn’t do it himself after what he did to that boy. Khern Davies nearly died.”

“The guardian’s judgment is absolute. And his orb told us Raven’s attack was in self-defense. We must accept it.”

“Regardless, I will be watching him… very close, and if he so much as breathes funny, I’ll put him back on a cart back to Surlance myself.”

Fyre snorted. “As if you could. That kid has real power. He made a fool out of you, Rook. And that’s what’s really got you all hot.”

“Yes…” Forir said, bowing his head. Again, the other two masters quieted as they looked at him. “Raven Whitesong is indeed powerful. I witnessed his strength myself, and it is beyond either of you. He somehow possesses a wealth of pandora and wields at least one Class Eight, just as he told us. It seems to manipulate gravitational push in some way.”

“He must have stolen it,” Czeslaw growled. “And he can use Hydra, which means he has a pool and refused to reveal which one. That makes him a liar, as well as a thief and near-murderer. I hate everything about this poisonous brat. He’s going to ruin this city. Mark my words.”

“Maybe,” Fyre shot back. “But I’m not interested in making an enemy out of something I don’t understand. I want the truth. I want to know who he is and what he’s really after. Something deeper is happening here, and I’m going to be part of it…” She looked Forir in the eyes. “…even if it means I face the Titan.”

“You will get your chance,” Forir replied. His cardinal chirped with a sad tone. “We have a long year ahead of us now. One year to discover Whitesong’s true intentions. One year to go about our business and teach the students what we can. And one year to keep our eyes and ears open for any schemes against our proud school. I am content knowing the Holy One and his faithful guardian Panka are on our side, even if the Titan’s eyes are set upon us.”

Czeslaw groaned. “Normally that makes me feel better, but after seeing what that boy did to our school in just one day… I have a sick feeling in my stomach that won’t go away.”

* * *

Raven and Van steadily climbed the spiraling stone staircase. Raven pushed on with zeal, eager to discover his new place of study. Van, on the other hand, labored under the weight of Raven’s large pack, and he struggled to keep up as the stairs continued to climb without seeming end.

“Hold on,” he finally gasped, pulling up and clutching to his side. “Where on earth does this lead? It feels like we must be a mile above ground by now. And I know that isn’t possible. Are you sure this isn’t another trick?”

“I’m sure. Onward.”

“I’m just waiting for Panka to pop out of the walls and laugh at how many stairs we climbed for nothing. ‘Oh, didn’t you notice the invisible door a thousand steps ago?’” he mocked with a cackle. It was a surprisingly good imitation.

“I will grant you, there’s a chance it could be a trick.”

“So then what do we do?”

He started climbing the steps again. “Onward.”

Van groaned. He lugged the pack further up onto his shoulder and trudged after him. But no sooner had they climbed a few dozen more steps before the stairs abruptly ended, coming to a nondescript wooden door with a crystal knob.

Van glanced at Raven with a labored grimace. “Panka did that on purpose.”

“Now what did your complaining merit again?” Raven asked, smirking.

“Shut it. I’m exhausted. There better be a chair in there.”

Raven took hold of the knob. The unlocked door swung wide. “I’ll wager there’s a lot more than that.”

Panka’s tower-top study opened before them, illuminated by the light of dawn coming through tall, half-round windows.

“Whoa,” Van exclaimed, dumping the pack on the stone floor.

The open room was circular with a peaking roof, everything Raven expected from the top chamber of a traditional tower. Cobwebs crowded into corners, dust coated the floor, and broken furniture lay scattered about. A two-posted bed was situated on one side, next to a large black ambry. The cabinet doors had windows through which Raven spied several old books. Other than that, there was nothing of value.

“Needs a scrubbing,” he said.

“Look at this!” Van called from one of the windows.

Raven joined him as he pried the glass window open, allowing a shivering wind to invade the space. Together they looked out. A whitewash canvas greeted their sight, pure and soft. Snow swirled in gusty whorls, streaming down at unnatural speeds. Below them, the sleet gathered into a thick cone.

“We’re directly above the pool, aren’t we?” Van said.

“Appears so. No wonder Panka kept this so hidden. The falling snow is absorbed constantly, sucked into the well, so this tower has probably never been seen from the ground. The snow acts like a barrier.”

“I don’t get it though.” Van leaned his body out, looking down. “Are we floating in the air? There’s no base that I can see. And if that’s the case, how did we even get here? Is this from a pandora?”

“It must be the work of that artifact in the Rail. Panka would never resort to using pandora. Now…” He left the window to face his new room, rubbing his hands together. “Time to settle in.”

He raised an arm and three pandora floated out of his sleeves. Raven touched one, a card with three hurricane-shaped insignias. “Wind Ruby,” he said. “Clear out the trash. Only the bed and ambry remain.”

Upon his command, three red cords burst from the face of the card. The cords each wrapped end to end to form hoops. Eruptions of air and steam exploded from holes around their lengths, and the hoops went to work, gliding across the room like wheels. Dust fled from their presence, shattered furniture was tossed through windows, and the walls and floors were scrubbed clean in their tracks.

Van watched on in amazement, but Raven touched the next pandora floating before him. “Deep View,” he said, touching the card that depicted a starry night sky. The pandora grew in size before him, expanding until it stood taller than him. A black handle protruded from the surface.

“A door?” Van said, coming beside him. “To nothing?”

Raven knocked on the surface. Van jumped when a knock came back. There was a click, and the door swung wide. The doorway that should have opened to nothing instead revealed a shadowed area, a portal to a different place. It was a murky room, and the entrance was curtained by an ethereal screen, dark purple and rippling from the steam torrents.

Being the recklessly curious sort, Van reached out his hand to touch the screen. Raven quickly snatched his wrist.

“Do you value your life?” he asked.

Van gulped and took his hand back.

“You have arrived, sir?” a stately voice came from the void.

Unnoticeable before, a stirring beyond the screen pushed against it. Eyes bright as two moons peered back at them, and someone slowly approached from inside. He wore a fine black suit with a blue sash and steel buckle, the mark of a butler, but his skin was the hue of volcanic ash, and his balding hair matched the pigment.

“Just yesterday, Bartón” Raven replied to him, careful not to come near the screen dividing them.

“I sense deep Hydra from beyond the View. It appears you have been successful thus far.”

“Are you surprised?”

“Not at all,” he replied with a slight bow.

“Status on Noelle and Arkh.”

Bartón straightened. “Lady Sevalier’s work has begun. She labors at her armor every night and even between classes. Her diligence knows no bounds.”

“Once again, no surprise.”

“Indeed. Lord Slipfire, meanwhile, has ignored your advice to be patient and has departed on his quest. In fact, he left the same day you did.”

“That’s fine. Arkh will be himself, and his time is now. There’s nothing I could say to stop him from leaving.”

“What else do you require, sir?”

“Nothing at the moment. I will gather everything. Thank you.”

“Very well.” Bartón bowed and left their presence, melding into the darkness once more.

“Interesting guy,” Van remarked. “Kind of dirty though. Why was he covered in soot?”

“That wasn’t dirt,” Raven replied. “Bartón isn’t a person. He’s a pandora entity.”

Van whistled. “I’d heard of pandora that create servants or other ‘people-adjacents,’ if you will, but never seen one.”

Raven reached up and tapped the third pandora floating before him. Unlike the others, this card wasn’t gray. Rather it displayed a multitude of bright colors. The moment he touched it, a burst of light ignited behind him. Rays of different colors shot up and over his head like the plumes of a peacock. Each bright feather, seven in all, featured a makeshift hand that wriggled with strange fingers.

Raven folded his arms, while the wormy rainbow beams went to work. They curled over him and reached inside the door, through the curtain. Sparks of light ignited as they did so. Then they withdrew, each one grasping a different item. One had a stack of books, another, a nightstand. Two worked together to grasp a pushpin board, while the last three produced a large wood coffin.

The hands went back and forth at Raven’s bequest, lashing like the tails of lions and providing him all his necessary possessions. Maps, a large trunk, and a dresser came next, followed by a man-sized scarecrow stuffed with hay. As they worked, Van stuck close to Raven, watching in amazement as each hand worked in unison to place objects in the places Raven wanted. His room was formed before their eyes.

“Are you some sort of monarch?” Van asked.

“A what?”

“Raven, you have more high-class pandora than I’ve ever heard of one person owning.” He ran a hand through his hair, wide-eyed with bewilderment. “And most of them are not just high-class, but a class I couldn’t fathom borrowing, let alone owning. How did you get all these? Even the richest of Fallowreyk’s citizens are limited by short supply, but your collection seems to be endless.” A dark look came over him. “You didn’t… murder all these people, did you?”

“Please don’t lump me with the Titan,” he scolded, dropping his arms.

“Then, how do you have so many?”

“After all you have seen in just one day, are you certain that is something you wish to know?

“You could say I’m already getting numb to outrageous experiences.”

Raven grimaced. “Pandora are valuable to me. But not in the way others value them – as tools and nothing more. They are partners in a great scheme. So, I have made it my life pursuit to gather as many as I can, regardless of ability or usefulness. Often, I save them from otherwise terrible fortunes.

“Oh, well gosh… isn’t that just a lovely story!” His lips curled with annoyance. “You’ve told me nothing. Anybody can try to collect pandora. I’m asking how you succeeded. Did you steal ‘em? You can tell me.”

He sighed. “A conservative mind might suggest I have been less than honest on certain occasions if he knew the details behind how I acquired some of them. Now… to the task at hand.”

The colorful hands stopped, the task finished. Raven’s room now looked like a comfy and luxurious boudoir, complete with bed, armoire, apothecary, bath, and various other furniture. Raven tapped his pandora, and the arms of color sank back into the card, which abruptly floated back inside his sleeve. The magic door shrank to the size of a card once more, and the red loops returned to their home, and those two pandora returned to Raven as well. Then, a new card floated out, and he tapped it. It featured a picture of the moon with a woman’s face, highlighted by large, glowing eyes.

The moment he touched the pandora, two flashes of faint light sparked over his own eyes. A thin film peeled away from each of his eyeballs. The slivers of luminous material then rolled up into needles. Raven made his way to a desk and produced seven sheets of paper. He then side stepped to a curious piece of furniture beside the bed. It featured only a smooth plank of wood on two broad legs – a piece solely constructed for writing while standing.

Raven laid each of the sheets of paper across the surface, and the two needles of light hovered over the first two pages. Raven flicked his wrist, and the needles went to work, gliding over the paper and leaving trails of blue ink in their wake.

“What is this?” Van asked.

“This is Moon’s Ark, a special pandora,” he replied. “During my enrollment and subsequent challenge to the masters, I employed it. It grants my eyes uncanny powers of surveillance, and records what I wish to write down later. In this case, I was able to determine what the masters wrote down on their challenge sheets by observing the movements of their hands and wrists as they wrote.”

“Wow. What a cheater.” He beamed at him. “I couldn’t be prouder. And what a card! Moon’s Ark would sell for buckets at auction, but triple that in the underground market.”

“Those kinds of remarks are what I was referring to earlier.” Raven replied. “Why should Deborah Salis be treated like that? When she led such a kind, hard-working life as a scholar, scribe, and mother?”

“Who’s Deborah Salis?” he asked absently, wandering about the room and perusing Raven’s belongings with interest.

Raven frowned. “Exactly.”

The two needle-thin pens finished writing on the first two pages, and moved on to the third and fourth. However, after a pause, one of the needles skipped over, leaving the page blank and moving on to the fifth page.

“That would be either Master Cooley or Master Forir,” Raven said, pointing to the blank page. “They were careful to cover their papers and disguise their movements. It will be imperative I discover what they wrote down in the next twelve months. I have an idea about Forir, but Cooley is a mystery.”

“I can tell you everything I know about him,” Van replied. “He’s something of a recluse, but he’s famous for his integrity and values. A good man. Kind of scary sometimes, but a decent guy in all respects you can think of.”

“What about the other teachers?”

“I have a book of information on each of them. Hey, let me ask you. Why do you have a scarecrow in your room?” He poked at the straw effigy propped against the wall. Golden hay stuffed the ratty clothes to near bursting, and eyes and a smile of buttons seemed nearly sadistic. A fake purple rose was pinned to its canvas jacket.

Raven gazed curiously at Van. Then, a notion hit him. “You’re not just an info broker, are you? You’re a Thimble.”

“Surprised you didn’t come to that revelation earlier. I wasn’t trying to hide it. In fact, I advertise it.”

The glowing needles moved on to the last two pages. Again, one was skipped, so they worked together to write out the last of the challenges. Raven smirked. “I approached you for different reasons, but it would appear I am fortunate. Information is everything to me. And I will need all I can acquire.”

“I charge a fair price.” He moved on to another object propped against a different wall. The large black coffin was tilted diagonally and featured only one embellishment: a large clasp with no lock. He laughed. “Don’t tell me you sleep in this thing.”

Raven hummed, making Van stop and glance at the coffin again warily. Raven said nothing more, gathering up the sheets of paper and making his way to the push-pin board. Using tacks he produced from the desk, he pinned the seven sheets to the cork surface.

“You know, now that I think about it, you said you would tell me last night why you chose me as your partner.” Van spoke up again. “You said it was for a specific reason. What was it?”

Raven froze. His arm lingered above his head, mid-way through posting another sheet. For a few moments, he said nothing. Then he slowly turned his head, looking directly into Van’s eyes.

“You have to do it sometime,” Rue whispered with a sigh. “Might as well do it now.”

He turned and placed the remaining sheets aside. His arms dropped at his sides.

“Stand before me,” he said.

Van’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“I will reveal the reason I selected you.”

Van tentatively approached, stepping slowly and every muscle braced for something bad. Soon, he stood a span away, looking down at Raven with a mixture of curiosity and dread. For a moment, Raven kept his head bowed. Then, he raised it, and his drab eyes looked directly into his.

In a blinking moment, Raven slammed his palm into Van’s chest. Van gasped, but did not collapse. He couldn’t. Frozen in place, he stared ahead wild-eyed. Raven dug his palm in deeper, paralyzing him. Then, a white burst of light seeped from Van’s chest. Curling around Raven’s fingers, the light shot into his own body. More and more Hydra flowed out of Van’s convulsing body and transferred to Raven. As it did, his eyes began turning color. The gray turned black before quickly gaining pigment. And like the filling of a glass, green poured into his eyes. In little time, his irises shamed the finest emeralds.

Sucked dry, Van’s body collapsed in a heap.

Raven withdrew his hand. For a moment, he looked down with a carefully guarded stare. Then, a devilish smile played across his lips.

“That… would be the reason.”