by Kayla Maya
Bryn nodded, holding her necklace tightly. “I promise Papa. No more crying.”
“That’s my little raven…”
Bryn opened her eyes. She was standing at the shore, the ocean waves lapping at her ankles. Ominous clouds spiraled overhead, the wind picking up as her emotions ran rampant. She refused to let the tears fall because she knew that if she did, then that would signal what little control she had over her magic. Yet, she understood now. Her father knew of Bryn’s abilities, he knew the whole time, and he never told her. It was a secret that he took with him to the grave, a secret that no one other than Lukas and their father knew. It made sense, having Lukas know. He always protected Bryn, even when she fought him tooth and nail over it. Bryn fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as the tears fell.
A raindrop fell beside Bryn, followed by a torrent of rain. She lifted her head, letting the rain hit her face, the rain mixing with her tears. She had promised her father that she wouldn’t ever cry, and she had upheld her end of the bargain. She didn’t even cry when he came to the house in a wagon, pale and lifeless. Even though she had wanted to shed her tears so badly, she had promised him that she wouldn’t, and she did exactly that for so long up until Lukas had passed, and she had broken the promise. Bryn broke her promise a second time, and she wouldn’t ever forgive herself for doing that. She barely even registered North’s calm voice as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She couldn’t even bear to look at him.
“Don’t blame yourself, Bryn,” North told her. “The world is a cruel place.”
“You don’t understand,” she sobbed.
“Don’t understand what?” North’s voice was tender but had a little uneasiness as he spoke. “I think I’m the only one who really understands you.”
“How?” She whirled on him, her tears falling in a steady stream down her face. “How could you possibly know what it’s like being me? Being cursed?”
“I’m from Arctica,” he replied. “I used to be like you. I was poorer than you because I had no one to work for me because I was five. I had a younger sister. She died in my arms because I couldn’t provide for her. She was two. I know what it’s like to live in poverty. What it’s like to have nothing. I was on the verge of death until Sister Grace found me after they had dethroned the previous king. They liberated my country. Don’t you see, Bryn? I understand what you’re going through. More than anyone.” Bryn listened to North. The pain in her chest ebbed, her tears flowing more slowly as she listened to him tell his story.
“I blame myself every day. I told myself if I could have controlled my magic back then, I could have gotten Maria something to eat. I could have sold my magic to someone, like, used my abilities to do their dirty work. Anything to save her. That’s why I’m still at the church, why I pledged myself to the Order. I never wanted to be alone, never wanted my own little sister to die because I was too stupid and too reckless. If only…”
“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” Bryn reached out to touch North’s hand. “I blame myself because I was too reckless. If I had done what Lukas had wanted, keeping a job, then he could have taken a break. Maybe if I had, then he wouldn’t be gone, just like my father. You were too young to do anything, so you shouldn’t blame yourself.”
“I know I shouldn’t, but how can I not? Maria would be here with me now, and when I saw you protect Lilac…I nearly used my magic myself. You saved her, something that I couldn’t do for my own sister.”
Bryn hauled herself to her feet, taking North with her. The storm had retreated, but it was no use, they were both soaked from both tears and rain. Bryn felt her heart blossom for North, felt their friendship spark into something else as she tried to ease his pain as he had done for her. Within a matter of moments, the sky lit up with various shades of colors from the fireworks as they exploded into the night.
“What happened to Lukas wasn’t your fault,” North told her gently. “Neither was your father’s death. I think things happen for a reason.”
“I think you’re right,” Bryn acknowledged. “But that doesn’t help to lessen the sting.”
He nodded as they watched the fireworks in the sky. Off in the distance, the storm clouds swirled back into the sky, making the stars twinkle ever brighter. She glanced at North, noticing that his eyes were closed, and head tilted to the sky. She found herself memorizing his facial features, the way his hair caught in the wind, and flew in different directions. She turned back to the ocean, praying to whatever gods listened for her to find her strength.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The next day past in a blur for Bryn. After getting back late from the fireworks with North, she found that she couldn’t stop thinking about him long enough to rest. Now, as she wandered the garden, her thoughts still lingered towards him. Bryn sighed. She didn’t want their friendship to derail into something that he didn’t want. As far as she knew, she had no idea if the disciples could marry, or at least date for that matter. She kicked a nearby rock, watching as it skidded across the grass and straight into a boot.
“Brother Oliver has arrived. He’s a fellow Cyclone, so he’ll be able to teach you to control your magic.” Sister Grace tilted her head to the side. “Brother North informed me of your encounter with Ericka yesterday. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Bryn couldn’t help the flush that rose along her cheeks at hearing North’s name. She hoped that Grace hadn’t noticed it either; otherwise, she would have a lot of explaining to do about her growing feelings towards the certain Disciple of the Crow. “It’s okay. I’m still new to this magic world, so seeing that…really got me thinking.”
“No second thoughts, I hope.” Grace turned back to the church. “Come now; Brother Oliver is eager to meet you.”
Bryn followed Grace back into the church, right to the main area with the pews and the pedestal that still held the leather-bound book. An older man with a weathered face and streaks of grey in his hair and beard was seated towards the back, head tilted back, and eyes closed. He opened his eyes when the two-woman approached, offering Bryn the warm smile that Grace seemed to use quite often. Perfected almost. He stood, holding out his hand for Bryn to shake.
“My name is Brother Oliver,” he told her. “Sister Grace has told me a lot about you, and I’m eager to teach you what I know.”
Bryn stamped down her excitement. She was finally going to learn how to control her magic, after all this time. “I’m glad to meet you. I’m Bryn.”
“I know who you are, Raven Thief,” he chuckled. “Your presence is well known throughout the five kingdoms.”
Bryn stilled. The five kingdoms knew of her? How could that be? As far as she knew, she only stole from the wealthy in Serena, she had no quarrel with any of the other kingdoms, nor did she ever want to. How on earth did they know of her? Brother Oliver seemed to notice Bryn’s uneasiness and offered her another warm smile.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up the past,” he glanced at Sister Grace. “I meant no disrespect either, Sister.”
“None taken,” Grace assured him. “However, Bryn doesn’t go by that alias anymore.”
“I do so apologize greatly.”
“How do the five kingdoms know of me?” Bryn asked.
Oliver opened his mouth to answer, but it was Grace who spoke. “There will be time to chat later. I have to attend the council meeting to discuss the plan with the king of Serena, and so does Brother Oliver. Olga should be here any moment now to prep you for the Ascension Ceremony later on tonight. I will see you then, I hope?”
Bryn knew that she formed it as a question, one that Bryn knew she had doubted for some time since she met Ericka in the church. If anything, she began to contemplate whether or not she should continue with being a Disciple of the Crow. Bryn sighed and nodded, not offering a smile as Sister Grace spun on her heel with Brother Oliver in toe. They walked away quickly, almost as if to refrain from talking to her any further. Bryn sighed once more and turned her head towards the
arch, where the morning glories started to descent back into their petals for the rest of the day.
“Oh, Bryn! Or should I say, Sister Bryn now?” Olga chirped.
Blood and bones, Bryn thought. She spun around, smiling from ear to ear at the plump woman. “It’s just Bryn,” she informed the older woman. “Please.”
Olga waved her away. “Come on then. We need to get you ready, yes?”
Bryn sighed and complied, allowing Olga to led her back into the church and straight into the kitchen, where a lone table with a mirror and what appeared to be Olga’s tools were placed on top. Bryn tried to retrace her steps but fell short when Olga used her meaty fingers to grip Bryn’s forearm and forced her into the chair.
Almost an hour and a half later, Bryn stood in front of the Ceremonial door that led to the room where she would pledge her allegiance to Corvus and become a Disciple of the Crow. Her black hair was done in a half-updo with two slightly curled strands hanging on either side of her face. Her make-up was done in perfection. Her eyebrows were painted, with just a narrow edge to them to make it seem like she was kind of scowling. Her cheeks were slightly rosy from Olga’s powders, the eyeliner making a flaring black wing on either side of her almond-shaped eyes. The eyeshadow was dark, with a slight trace of silver to them. And Bryn hated to admit that she rocked the smoky eye look. She hated to admit just how attractive she looked as well in the dress Olga had chosen for Bryn.
The dress Bryn wore was blood red, but the shade a tad darker to make it seem like drying blood. It was satin but silky enough that it flowed around her body, even though it was a tight hugging dress that showed off Bryn’s curves. It was backless but reached down to almost her buttocks. The front was crisscrossed with a small diamond-shaped opening that showed off a tad bit more cleavage than she ever wanted to show. Bryn silently wanted to see North, to see what he thought of her outside of the filth and poverty she was accustomed to. No doubt she smelt better too. She heard a drum thrumming from the other side of the door, hearing chanting that increased with each crescendo. Gods, she though. What have I gotten myself into?
A few moments later, Bryn was told to enter. She sucked in a breath and walked in, closing the door behind her. The room was dark, with a young man beating on the drums. He was stripped bear with just shorts. His chest was painted with dark colors of red, black, and blue. A steak of red was on one side of his face, black the other, and then blue in the middle of his forehead. Save for the young man; it was just Bryn and Sister Grace. Two braziers were lit on either side of Grace, and just like the man’s face, Grace’s was done in the same painted fashion. In her hands, she held a large tome with a crow with wings outstretched on the cover. Bryn gulped. She had secretly hoped to see North during her ceremony tonight, but that didn’t appear to be the case.
Bones….
“You look stunning, Bryn.” Sister Grace smiled. She held up the tome as the man kept banding on the drums, eyes closed, and arms flung in every direction as his two drumsticks hit the drums. Grace chanted something inaudible, making the young man stop and leave the room without another word. “Come closer,” Sister Grace instructed.
Bryn complied.
“You are here to invoke the name of Corvus as your one and only god, your one and only religion.” Grace seemed well-versed in her mantra as she spoke. “Today, you shall become a Disciple of the Crow. You will aid us in liberating the Old Gods and recreating the New Gods. Do you consent?”
“I do.” Bryn’s voice sounded hoarse, her tongue feeling a little too big in her mouth.
“Do you consent to give our one true god your devotion?”
“I do.”
“Do you consent to the relationship we will have together? That your love for me as a mother will not waiver?”
Odd thing for Grace to say, but Bryn complied. “I do.”
Sister Grace withdrew a blade from underneath her robes, holding out her hand for Bryn. Bryn complied, placing her hand in Grace’s as she drew the blade over Bryn’s palm. A slight burning sensation bubbled along her palm, scarlet blood flowing freely from the wound. Grace tilted her hand over the fire braziers. Bryn watched as her blood seeped into the flames before they were extinguished, dropping the room in blackness. Bryn could have sworn she heard a crow caw off in the distance as Grace wrapped up Bryn’s wound. It still stung, but the pain was bearable. Bryn could feel a tinkling sensation at the base of her spine, almost as if she were being poked by a needle and then a feather.
“Kneel.”
Bryn quickly kneeled, lowering her head as Grace shuffled around, and then a new voice echoed in the room. Bryn couldn’t help her heart as it sped up hearing North’s voice, at even feeling his presence being near her sent her on edge. In the best possible way. Grace told Bryn to stand. Bryn shuffled to her feet, feeling slightly embarrassed as North’s mouth dropped open, seeing her dressed to perfection. Fixing his composure, he said, “You are the Raven Thief. Stealing is in your blood.”
Bryn watched as he reached into his robe and withdrew the notorious crow pendant every disciple wore. The crow with two arrows behind it. She hesitated because she knew that if she took the pendant, then it would mean stepping back into her old ways. Being a thief. A life she thought she shed months ago. She didn’t have time to gauge whether or not she should go through with this plan. She hadn’t gotten this far for nothing.
Accepting the pendant, she said the lines she was versed in—the lines given to her at her doorstep that morning. “We stalk the night. We prey on the strong to give to the weak. We are the Order of the Crow.”
“Rise Sister Bryn.”
She stood, offering Grace and North a smile as she said, “When’s dinner?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
After her Ascension Ceremony, Bryn sat at the table with Sister Grace and North as she shoveled food down her throat. She hadn’t eaten since earlier that morning, and since it was already dark, she guessed that the ceremony, while only seemed like minutes, had lasted nearly three hours. It was mostly Grace talking gibberish about how Bryn would now learn how to serve as a disciple, and to learn how to keep her faith strong by praying to Corvus before bed. It seemed like an awful idea to Bryn, having to pray to a god she didn’t believe in, but it was far better than having to worry about her little family going hungry. A little golden-haired girl raced in front of Bryn, making her almost choke on her chicken leg.
Lilac?
Bryn stood as the golden-haired girl raced back in front of her, but Bryn still caught her features. She breathed a sigh of relief as she realized that the young girl wasn’t her younger sister, Lilac, but a smaller child that only had the same hair color. Settling back in her chair, Bryn became consumed back into her old memories of her with Lilac.
Bryn sighed, digging into her pocket to grab what meager coin she had to go to the markets to find something to eat for her family. Even though Lukas had instructed her not to steal, she still couldn’t help the biting itch that thrived beneath her fingertips. She wanted so desperately to steal, to gain enough coin to spur her entire family into wealth, to escape poverty. Alas, as she waited by the steps of the school for her sister Lilac, Bryn couldn’t help the feeling of being watched. The constant itch at the back of her neck meant danger, and it was a third sense that she followed. Never steal if anyone could sense danger nearby, be it guard or just another thief, Bryn took no chance.
Moments later, a bell rang, and a small hoard of children raced out of the building. Bryn spotted Lilac’s golden halo of hair from a mile away, locks inherited by their great grandmother instead of their mother or father. Lilac skipped into Bryn’s view as her little sister reached over and plucked an apple from another girl’s bag. Bryn watched in awe as Lilac skipped towards her, munching on her new snack. Impressed, Bryn offered her hand to her sister, walking her towards the edge of the small school, and behind the small cobblestoned wall that separated them from the outside world.
“Did you just steal that apple?” Bry
n asked. Her only response was another bite taken from the apple. “Lilac! You can’t steal! If you get caught—”
“You do it all the time,” Lilac countered. “If you can do it, then so can I.”
Bryn sighed. Lilac did have a point. “Alright, smarty-pants, why don’t we get you home?”
“Do we have to go?” Lilac frowned, throwing her apple core to the ground and shook out her locks. “I want to go to the pond! Care we go? Oh, please, Bryn!”
Bryn couldn’t say no to that adorable face, so she took her younger siblings’ hand and led them out into the crowd. Bodies pressed close to Bryn’s personal space, a growl working its way up her throat at the onslaught of bodies that continued to press ever closer. A shiny broach of a horse loomed into view, Bryn’s senses zeroing on the money-maker in a matter of seconds. A broach that nice would fetch a high price in the black market. So much coin that her family wouldn’t have to worry about starvation for nearly two weeks if they were lucky. Bryn forced the desire to steal down, focusing on leading her sister out of the city and to the small pond that occupied the northwest part of Skeg. If they were lucky, it would be empty, if not, then homeward bound they would be.
Luckily, the pond was just outside the city gates, so it was an almost twenty-minute walk from the schoolhouse to the pond. Thankfully, not a single soul was there, so Bryn’s shoulders relaxed as Lilac giggled and raced towards the pond, no doubt eager to catch frogs like Bryn had done when she was Lilac’s age. Bryn watched as the wind picked up, making ripples along the surface of the pond, the wind whistling in her ears as leaves soared into the air. She rested underneath a nearby tree, watching as Lilac dove in and out of the pond, multiple frogs in each hand.
“Well, my little raven, it appears that you’ve caught quite a load of frogs there!” Father bent down, running a hand over Bryn’s black hair. “If you keep this up, I’m sure you’ll become the greatest thief in all of Serena, if not the Five Kingdoms itself.”
