On the edge of a cliffside stood a weathered tree, its trunk reaching out to the east where the sun was about to rise. It's branches like twisted fingers of a crooked hand. On the highest branch of the tree sat a raven with smooth black feathers and it's red eyes subtly shown with sorrow. It was looking down at the boy perhaps seventeen in age digging a grave.
"Ponder this.. you smile and cheer when you read Kindness being shown, but you frown and curse when that Kindness goes unrecognized. Why do you feel so? Does the gesture of kindness itself hold less significance for you than the recognition one receives from it?"..
"Does the trophy matter more than the accomplishment itself?"...
"Oh perhaps you're not accustomed to being talked to so directly, especially not by a raven of all things. I'm talking to you dear reader!" The raven hopped a couple of times, he wanted to hoot in amusement but the circumstances were anything but amusing so he held his tongue.. well his beak.
"You see I've lived a long life, far too long for a raven. Even though I'm not a normal raven by any sense of imagination as you can already guess. And since I've so lived long, perhaps I'm growing cynical. I've seen so many evil deeds go unpunished and so many virtues go unrecognised. I'm.. starting to believe that the world and life is perhaps not as fair for humans as I once imagined in my younger days."
The crow shook his head in a very human-like manner.
"And I suppose the idea of the world being unfair is nothing new. I've known this for a long while myself, but I always assumed that it was in human nature to make things more extreme than they already were. Now… I'm starting to believe that it's not entirely their fault."
The crow looked down at the boy who had finished covering the grave with soil. And was pulling a gravestone to mark it.
"Take that dead man for example." The crow said, pointing towards the grave with its beak. "He was an utter monster in his prime, a man who once slaughtered without thinking just to protect an object. Granted it was a very important object, but the length this man went to– to achieve his goals were nothing short of evil. He murdered, maimed and tortured throughout the Empire andbeyond. But does he get any justice?"
The crow shook his head looking towards the sun that had just peeked into the horizon.
"Looking at the beautiful scenic view and the peaceful little grave in the middle of nowhere. You can probably guess the answer to that question."
The raven turned back to look at the boy, he had long black hair, deep purple eyes and a soft unremarkable face. Not too handsome but good enough that a woman wouldn't reject him at first glance. And by no means gorgeous.
"Hey I'm not insulting the boy alright! Who am I to insult a human for his looks, I'm a raven. Let's just say I have enough perspective to measure a person's looks. Anyways we're going side track. The scum that was the man who just died a peaceful death passed everything he knew to that boy. And by that I mean his capacity to bring destruction, and if that wasn't enough– he went ahead and died after giving the boy instructions on what to do!"
The crow cried out in frustration. In return other ravens from somewhere replied to his cries much to our Speaking ravens annoyance. They exchanged cawing for a few more moments..
"How can you teach a boy so much about the creative and constructive art of destruction and then let him off into the world. Leaving the people in it to the boy's mercy." The raven sighed, "Anyways, I'm sorry. You're not here to listen to me rant. I should not be the focus of your attention. If you may, spare your attention to the boy named Avin."
__________
Avin
Avin looked up at the peculiar raven of his master, well his dead master. Out of all the ravens of his master, that was the strangest one. Pulling his attention away from the funny creature Avin turned to his master.
"I don't know what to say for your funeral Master Vlad. I'm sorry I couldn't be a good student to you, I've always looked up to your courage and valor, your generosity and kind– Goddamnit! I'm sorry old man, I can't do this."
Avin crumpled the paper from which he was reading, the words in it were written by none other than Vlad himself. The Old bastard!
Avin didn't have a choice when Vlad was alive, but he can defy his master now.
"And you can't do anything about it." Avin said his face turned comically crooked, Avin paused– blinked and sighed at his own immaturity as he recognised it.
No matter how much torture the old man had put him through physically and psychologically, for better or worse he was the only family he ever had. Well the only one he at least spent his time with. And now he was going to return to that family, it was time to go back home. The Empire was about to boil, Avin knew it from Vlads teachings. And he had to find his keep and prepare for what he was trained for.
Master Vlad's final words came to Avin's mind: "Go find your purpose child, but do not obsess over it like I did. Remember, the purpose is not more important than your own happiness. In the end you might lose your purpose, but the little things in life are what gives you the sense of fulfillment."
Avin took a deep breath and looked solemnly at the grave, all his whimsy and humor gone from his eyes as genuine words came out of his mouth.
"Thank you Old man. I'll be going now, to find answers that you didn't have, and purpose you couldn't afford, and a place to belong that you couldn't find."
Avin pulled out two black daggers, both identical in looks, double edged like a short longsword. It's blade black as night but not feeling metallic by touch. Avin felt like he was touching smooth powdery marble. They were sleek and elegant, looking like they'd crumble if Avin held them too tightly. They were heavier than they looked with red ruby at the centre of their crossguard.
Avin sliced his palm with its edge and let his blood drop on the rubies. They glowed with a cold red light that sent shivers down his spine. He felt the daggers latching into him and suffusing his spirit with their alien essence. The dull red patterns on its spine became more pronounced and… alive?
He nodded as if he had expected it, and then he stored the blade away in his cloak. He picked up his pack and strapped the sword on his hips. He blew a whistle loud in the dawn. And four ravens came to circle above his head, and the fifth odd one gave him a long look as if thinking whether to follow. And then flew to join its companions.
What was the name Master Vlad had given the raven? Oh yeah! Belazin
Avin chuckled, "And so we go."