Chapter 27: The Raven

Chapter 27: The Raven

The songbird sings.
The pack protects.
All fears laid to rest.
Christina holds hope in her chest.

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Day 77
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"Do you miss him?" Asked Damien. "Your father, I mean."

I didnt expect to have to think about my answer, it felt so strange. Did I miss him? I must miss him, surely. In the past few months I had cried more than once thinking about how him and the rest of my family were gone. But then again I also remembered all the times I had been filled with anger and vitriol, not over them being gone, but more specifically how I had been left behind. Was all that sadness really from their absence, or was it more about my abandonment.

Yet somehow despite my complicated train of thought, my next words found themselves for me. "Can you really miss someone who was barely even there?"

The words left my lips, and it was only then that I realized they were true. My family had been so distant from one another for so long before the invasion, my father was no exception. Lost in his work, spending time with only my mother. My sister gone for months on end living in the royal palace, and I was too busy finding meaningless distractions in anything I could just to pass the time. My father wasn't really there, not like he used to be when me and my sister were kids. He was so wonderful and warm back then, but as the years went on, he just slowly disappeared. I didn't even understand why. I wanted to say that I missed my father since he had gone away, but the version of him that I missed had been gone for so much longer than that.

Somehow, Damien wasn't even surprised. I could tell to some extent he idolized my father, he spoke about him with some amount of reverence. Instead he looked at me with understanding. "You can miss who someone used to be. Sometimes the hardest kind of loss to understand is the loss for someone you can see right in front of you, but isn't really there. Not in the way you need them to be, at least."

Something in his eyes spoke to me as he did. He understood, and through him so did I. His eyes told me so much, I saw something was missing, someone. I had to ask. "Have you lost someone before, Damien?" 

Damien looked off into the middle distance as he gave himself a light smile and repeated something I could tell he had said before. "The first flower I ever planted on my own, was on top of my mother's grave." Then his eyes shifted to something more solemn, as if his first statement wasn't crushing enough. "My father . . . I think he left a part of himself buried with her."

I said nothing for a while. It was hard to imagine someone so full of life had to experience something like that. "I'm sorry, I can't imagine . . ." I trailed off, trying to express my sympathies the best I could.

Instead Damien looked at me again, that warm glint somehow still in his eyes. "Look at everything you've experienced, of course you can." He responded, not in a way as to dismiss my sympathy, but to show me that he understood, and to tell me that even if I didn't know how to show it, he knew I understood too.

I had to think, did I understand? But as I did I realized, for all I knew my family was dead, they didn't make it out of the kingdom, but were killed instead. And even if they weren't, any idea of seeing them again, felt like a fairy tale. A wistful dream. I didn't feel entitled to that kind of grief, but at the very least, maybe I did understand. 

As Damien let his eyes wander back to the grove in front of us, I let myself slowly lean over against his shoulder, and I could feel his body respond, softening himself to let me in. 

"You said before that, my father, Alexandre, was a great man. Did you ever meet him?" I asked, half out of curiosity, the other half just wanting to continue hearing Damien speak.

Damien look off as if to recall the memory, before nodding. "Once. A few weeks before the invasion, actually. Him and your mother came to Levantin in Napaea forest."

'Just after I left for Port Ammoria', I thought to myself. I briefly wondered what exactly they had being doing in Napaea. "You talked about how they came back and won the respect of our people. How, exactly?" 

Damien smiled again, eyes still shining bright. "It wasn't some kind of massive labour or act of recompense, it was actually much simpler than that. Years ago, before I was born . . . Your parents were married in Napaea, taking the time and showing us the honour of undergoing the ancient rites and ceremonies. At first there were some who saw this as some performative act, but over time your family kept coming back. Honoring sacred dates, ensuring important gatherings took place, showing our people the ancient leadership that earned your family our loyalty in the first place. It was simply that act of service to our people, a people that Lord Alexandre wasn't even tied to in blood, that returned our faith in the name Revallia."

"That's all?" I asked, it seemed so simple, some part of me almost didn't believe that was all it could take to heal generations of neglect from my family.

Damien looked at me a certain kind of way before continuing. "Our people were bitter, feeling forgotten, like the leaders they had chosen so long ago had forgotten them. But all they needed was to be shown that care, show our people that they did matter. We, as a pack, were lost. But when Alexandre came to us, our Ravens returned." 

His words sent a shiver down my spine. As I found my hand moving to clutch the pendant around my neck. "We are the Ravens . . ." I said quietly, starting the words of our house, the words engraved on the stone that I held in my hand.

Damien looked at me, his eyes full of purpose, as he answered. "And we are your pack."

I knew what our people felt like. To feel left behind, abandoned and forgotten by those who were meant to protect you. Disconnected from where you came from, from where you were supposed to be. I wondered honestly, after all this time I had spent away from my family, the months separated, along with the years of a different kind of distance . . . I couldn't say with certainty that I missed them, I had to wonder if they even missed me. 

Why was it that my father and mother had worked so hard to honor their ancient ties, devote their time and spirit to reviving old bonds and being the leaders that their people needed them to be, yet for some reason, they couldn't do the same thing for me. They couldn't connect and be the protectors of their own daughter, their youngest child, their heir. What why did they had it in them for an entire heritage, but not for me? 

Something cold and dark spread over the back of my consciousness, so strong I could feel it at he base of my spine. I remembered Lena's words that she had said to me once, words that had stuck with me, echoing in my mind.

'How can you treat people the way you do, and expect them to care for you back?'

I thought about everything I had done to earn that statement. How even when Lena tried to help me I pushed her away and treated her with resentment. I treated her so often with disrespect, there were so many people I believed were beneath me, so many things I took for granted. Maybe that's all it was, maybe this was why my own family couldn't care for me. Maybe I did this to myself.

Damien looked on at me, catching my slow drift into sadness as I balanced my bodyweight against him. He gently reached his hand over to my face, only to brush away a stray lock of hair. Opening his mouth, his own words were hesitant, but his eyes were kind. "I'm . . . sorry that your family left you." He said. Doing his best to understand. 

Damien looked like he was trying to find himself for a moment, but it was clear that there was a lot he wanted to say. " . . . it must be hard, to know that they came back to Napaea to reconnect with their people, and to hear that so many others thought of you father as a great man, but have to reconcile that with who he was, and who he still is, to you." Damien said, ever understanding. On one hand, I didn't want to destroy the version of my father that he had in his head, but on the other, my pain was too present for me to even attempt to ignore.

"It's strange," I started, letting myself wander down a path that, not sure where I might end. "Because he was like that, one upon a time. You talk about the man so full of love that he worked tirelessly to repair generations of neglect to their heritage. I remember him, and he was such an amazing father." I found myself suddenly reminiscing over my childhood years, the way my father invented games for me and my sister to play, how the would drag our staff and my mother along with it. Nothing was ever too serious to stop him from bring a smile to his baby girls, and he more than once made a fool of himself in front of others, just to see our joy. I remember how he wanted so much to inspire us and fill us with drive, encouraging my sister's dancing, guiding my bow hand as he taught me the violin. 

But as the gentle wind pushed the tress, and the white clouds above filled the grove with a deeper shade of shadow, that moment in my mind passed. "But I also understand what our people must have felt like, for all those years of neglect. What it's like to have the ones who were supposed to guide and protect you, feel like like they're not even there."

I slowly let my hand slip. My pendant grew cold against my neck, a small ache in my palm from where it had last been held.

Damien listened to all I had to say, and he grew silent for a period of time. I wasn't sure how long exactly it was. I'm not sure if I wanted him to convince me otherwise, tell me something that made what I knew to be true a lie, give me some kind of hope in fantasy.

Eventually, Damien did speak. "You know, even for the generations that were spent alone, without the Revallia family to lead the way . . . all that time, we were still Revalli." He said, his chest growing as he once again filled himself with purpose and belonging. "That never changed. We might have grown bitter, we might have started to resent the family that we gave our very name, but even during that time we never lost our strength within ourselves." Damien leaned forward, and pointed toward the pendant that hung over my chest. "That crest, do you know what it represents? It represents the ravens, and the pack."

At first, I wasn't sure where he was going with this. But I looked into Damien's eyes, and in the dark shade illuminated by the scattered beams of light breaking through the the canopy of leaves, I felt like I saw the stars. I wanted to him to say what he wanted to say, in prayer that it was what I wanted to hear. I looked back at Damien, all but begging him to keep going.

"Wolves and ravens aren't naturally family, everywhere else they live they having nearly nothing to do with each other. But in the Valley, they work together, hunt together, nest together. The Raven's could nest with eagles, rocs, or even their cousin crows. And wolves could easily stand lonely in solitude, or even find their way into human favour. But instead, they found each other. In their combined strength they decided to be each other's pack."

I had heard this tale before, my mother had told it to me so many times, used it to remind me why Argus would always protect me, and why the symbol of the Raven was so important to us. 

Damien continued. "Even in his flaws to you . . . " Said Damien, careful to acknowledge my own pain. "Your father wasn't born a Revallia. He became what his people needed him to be. Ultimately, it was for that reason that so many consider him a great man." 

Taking a deep breath in, Damien continued, "Maybe in time, your father stopped being what you needed him to be. But that's what being Revalli is . . ." His expression turned bitter sweet, and in the moment I could tell he believed what he said with all his soul. "I lost my family, one way and then another. But the Revalli people, our pack, was always there for me." Damien refocused himself, and looked into my eyes, deeply. The dark green of his irises, deep and powerful, speaking to me with all the wisdom of those of our people who came before. "The ones who save you, who help you realize who you really are . . . they don't need to be your family. In the end, you get to decide who your pack is."

I looked at his olive tanned skin, his face warmed by the fractured light of day. As he saw into me I felt the pull of our people, not a people of singular blood, but of shared bond and shared struggle. His glistening eyes like a midnight forest, pulling me in, whispering to me. Anchoring me in it's roots. With everything he had gathered, he looked back at me. 

"You know, the day I first laid eyes upon your mother, Evelyn, and I saw the ancient hue of her scarlet Revallia hair, I thought she was the most gorgeous woman in all the world." Said Damien, his voice so soft I felt almost like a whisper. He reached over to place his hand on my face, and using his thumb he gently stroked my cheek. In his soft supported embrace, I looked back up to him, his stars in my eyes.

"I thought that, until I met you."

Gently Damien brought me in close, his soft skin like silk on mine. His breath warm against my face, yet inches away, he stopped. Leading me forward I was so close to him that it was no longer really a question. But right before the end he paused, letting me be the one to decide.

"Will you let me be your pack?"

My skin danced in his embrace as I felt his warmth washing over me. I softly closed my eyes, wanting to preserve this single moment in my mind. Tilting my head closer into his embrace, I felt the nature of it all around us. I saw his glistening imagine, perfect in my mind. I wanted to stay here. I wanted to feel his skin on mine, hear the gentle gasp of his every baited breath, know every truth he had to share. I wanted to feel my love for him so much . . . I wanted so badly to say yes. But something else crept down my neck, spreading from the dull spot in the back of my mind.

I couldn't.

I pulled away from Damien in shame. I found my eyes forcing themselves down to my feet, unable to meet his beautiful eyes. My floor-bound gaze only brought into view what I was wearing even now in this perfect moment, my childish silhouette serving as a reminder of everything I was, everything I had become. My own picture staining the portrait in my mind.

"You can't mean that . . . " I said, quickly. Ushered by shame and fear. "I mean, look at me." I found myself nearly tearing up as I forced the words out of my mouth. I felt everything inside of me push to the surface. All my insecurities, all of my frustrations, not only to my situation but to myself. I let it all fuel me as I argued against what I really desired.

"Every day I'm put in childish clothes, they give me rules, try to teach me manners . . . and every day they punish me for disobeying them, they punish me for failing at such simple things, standards' nobody worth anything should have issues living up to. Yet I can't even do that." There was no choice in any of my words, they weren't conscious or intentional, they simply were.

"Worse, even. I find myself yearning for their approval, wanting to please them. I think . . . I think a part of me likes it when they take control, at least when they're in charge I can't fuck anything else up."

My body started to crumple, my knees buckled together and threw my hands on my face. At one point I was terrified of Damien even seeing me in these types of ways, even if I understood that he in some way already knew. I couldn't have imagined admitting to him all of this. Yet here I was, trying to convince him against me. I looked back to the boy next to me, eyes bloodshot from the flood of emotion, and the well of dammed back tears.

"And when I do make them happy by doing the barest minimum, and I get their praise . . . praise that is so far beneath me, for things that couldn't ever be considered an accomplishment by any sane standard . . . somehow I can't help but feel joy. So happy to be rewarded even in the tiniest of ways." I gasped back breath, but continued, still yet not finished. 

"I don't even know who I am anymore. I've become so much since staying here, since giving my life away. I've started to find so peace in the simplicity of . . . obedience." My hands now down at my sides, I gripped my own legs so hard I was worried I might draw blood. "And . . . I think I'm starting to like it." 

Letting my grip go, the stinging pain lingered in a way that only felt correct. It was a feeling that somehow shared some resemblance to this act of verbal mutilation, damning myself in a way that I knew I deserved. "Sometimes I don't even recognize myself anymore, and I don't know what I've had to become for others, and how much I have to become that's somehow for myself." 

The words exhausted me, yet all I could feel was the blood pumping through my veins. I was tired yet I couldn't sit still. I had to say it all to him, I couldn't let him ruin himself on me. I couldn't take the chance that he would see who I really was, only to leave and destroy what little I had left. Slowly my body relaxed, and silence filled the air, as Damien had nothing yet to say. 

I looked over at the boy next to me. His eyes still warm, even if they were now paired with a small sad smile. The light of the grove reflected in his eyes, and I couldn't help but feel a part of me yearn for his peace. I signed. "You don't deserve that. You're . . . so beautiful." I said to him, barely even referring to his physical form. "The way you love nature, devoting your self to every seed and every petal. The way you fill every space with your essence, gentle and calm." I somehow found myself drowning in his grace, unable to stop myself from getting consumed within it. "You care so much about the world you live in . . . holding on to such a close bond to your people, and their past. Giving reverence to everything you learn, and yet somehow wanting so badly to learn more. To share more." I felt every ounce of my spirit flow out into me, and into my love for him. "To be able to care for strange foreign flora the same way you care for your native home's plants, you treat every part of this world with love and kindness, a joy that could only come from the deepest passion . . ." 

I saw him here, not in the grove, but as part of the grove. The paradise he himself built, a tribute to everything he loved, so plainly put that it was impossible not to see, yet hidden, only because it was what those he built it to care for needed it to be. "You look at the world, and through your eyes all you see is beauty . . ." 

Damien's sad smile seemed to grow, and I could sense the love and beauty that I spoke of even now spread from him, unable to be contained. I wanted so badly to share in his world, and see what he sees.

"You see the world, the way I want it to be."

My words hung in the air like midnight stars in the sky. Glistening with beauty, yet eternally far away. Now that it had all been said, my feelings for him shared, as well as every reason why I wasn't worth his grace, I felt so much lighter. Yet despite that, there wasn't any freedom to go with it. It was like in letting go, I only now realized how shackled down I really was.

But there was . . . something in the way that Damien looked back at me. It almost looked like within a soft sadness, he was trying not to laugh? I had expected him to sit in silence, honestly I'm not entirely sure what else he could do. He had to see that I was right, wouldn't he? But like always, he had something else to teach me.

"You think there's anything less beautiful in the way I see you?"

I was speechless. The words somehow cut me like a sharp knife, and knocked the wind out of me all at the same time. I could say anything, and I think something within me begged to hear more.

Damien saw my face, and visibly had to stop himself from laughing with hope. "You know what I see when I look at you? I see endless curiosity, wanting to understand so much of this world, even if it scares you. I see somebody who even when they are scared, they try to put on such a brave face, and keep going anyway. I see someone who holds onto the things she loves, so dearly, refusing to let go no matter what, even if it hurts." He shifted his body, emoting with each word he spoke, animated in a way that I had even seen, but seemed like such a natural extension of who he was. "I see your love for every kind of art. You read to see the beauty in imagination. You turn your music into an extention of the world around you, amplifying it in every way." 

Damien seemed to calm himself the smallest bit as he continued. "You want so badly to be part of the world you live in, and your music builds that harmony within, giving anyone lucky enough to hear it, a glimpse into your beautiful soul." He smiled at me the way only he could, and my heart danced in my chest. 

"And the only thing you've ever wanted back from this portrait of a world that you helped create, is to feel safe, and to find a place within it." He spoke, witnessing everything that I did. "That's what I see." 

He took a breath in, before moving to narrow the distance between us again. "You've found so much loneliness and pain in this world, yet you still only want to see it for all its beauty and grace. It's not your fault that you sometimes struggle."

I saw him in all his grace. I felt him pour his soul back into me. For everything I loved about him and his world, I hadn't even considered that his world might include me.

"It can be scary to not quite understand who you are, sometimes I wonder if that's something that any of us can ever really know . . ." He continued, solemn yet determined. "But in the end, no matter what choices you make, no matter who you may become, you'll always be those things." 

This boy. This beautiful, amazing boy. He stepped closer again, erasing the distance one final time and gently raising his hand to fee push back a stray lock of hair. 

"To me, you'll always be my raven." 

My eyes glazed with yearning, my heart pounding with desire. I could barely even think. Yet despite it all, I could help but be terrified of what was right infront of me. Scared that everything here, everything that I wanted so badly, was some cruel joke of fate. That I would give in, accept it, give all of myself to him, only for it to be taken away. Some cold joke from the gods, just to remind me that I wasn't safe. 

But I couldn't. In this moment, it wasn't up to anyone else. It was my choice to make. I could feel his breath, staggered and baited as he waited for me to move. This frozen moment of tension, captured both our souls in time. The fear inside of me told me to pull away, but my heart and soul refused.

In a shattered instant, I grabbed Damien by the chest and pulled myself into him. Closing my eyes, not to keep myself held in a vision, but to stay completely in each moment as it passed in time. As I pulled myself into him, everything else was instinct. Our lips yearned for each other for so long, and now in perfect unison, my breath became his, and his became mine. 

My eyes still closed as we locked ourselves in our embrace. His arms wrapped around me, holding me safe and keeping me warm. I held myself tight, refusing to let go to the world in my arms. Eyes closed, I didn't need anything. Everything was held within what I felt all around me, as we kissed beneath the veiled light of the grove. 

As the moment stretched into eternity, our lips locked in passionate embrace. Damien gripped me tightly, and gently pulled me off my feet. It was effortless in how I found myself supported by him, no fear in falling, he was my ground. I couldn't help but give every ounce of myself to him, and in between shared gasps of air, I asked only one thing in return.

"Don't leave me, like they did." I pleaded to him, trusting him to take and care for my fear.

I felt his grip on me tighten, refusing to let go. He spoke so softly and full of passion, his next words so simple, a promised oath.

"My Lady." 

And in his arms, under the gentle hidden light of the grove . . . I realized for the first time. I knew what it was to feel safe.