For so long… so long this book has been as much my enemy as my friend.  I’ve refused to write while the questions swirl in my mind.  What will happen now?  What if…?  What next?  What then…?  But tonight I hold it close.  A dear friend it has been through all these years, one to whom I could pour out my heart and find answers. 

I need answers.

I heard a voice I’ve longed to hear for so long, about a week ago, pressing me to make a choice.  A choice!  It is shameful to even imagine having to choose between He who made me what I am, He whose smile has blessed my steps and She… the one who has always held my heart.  But there is not one.  There are three.  And I must choose?

I must choose and when I do… my life will never be the same.

I’ve a fascination with ravens and the way they have been dealt with in the mythology of so many cultures. Here’s a bit of what I’ve learned.

Raven is a contrary spirit. On the negative side, Raven represents the profane, the devil, evil spirits, the trickster and thief, war and destruction, death and doom, the void.

Yet in many cultures Raven also represents deep magic, the mystery of the unknown, death and transformation, creation, healing, wisdom, protection, and prophecy.

Raven is both the symbol of the sun, and the symbol of a moonless night. She is the birth giving light in the center of our galaxy, and the black hole in the center of the universe, to which we are all traveling to our eventual extinction.

Raven is the fatal touch of the Calleach in winter, the wisdom of Odin, the vessel of prophecy given to a seer, the mighty protector of the Western Isles, and the healing message of an Indian shaman.

Raven is a complex bird, both in nature and in mythology.

Tumultuous.

That’s the only way to describe life over the last few months, so disturbing that I’ve rarely had time to put quill to parchment. There’s no excuses now that I’ve learned well to make my own and yet, I find myself reluctant to pen my thoughts.

The city rages on. Elbahn’s die are in my favor and then they aren’t. I soar on wings, and then I tumble into depths that hold more dread for me than the ocean itself.

Perhaps if I stopped spending coin on clothing I’d have enough to ensure my own title.

But until then, it seems I’ve caught the eye of a Marquess. I’m fairly uncertain, at this point what to think of her. Perhaps it’s nothing other than an idle interest in passing the time, but she’s caught the interest of the mage, and without a doubt will have the Baron hooked as well.

The promises she made me though… can I trust them or were they just the flippant words of a silly noble? They could prove to be exactly what I’ve wanted for so very long.

Shadows stole across the square where people gathered, frittering away the last moments of daylight. The welcomed respite from the daily grind – mere moments before harrowed mothers dragged home their less-than-willing children, while work-wearied men slipped off to the nearby taverns to drink – these mere moments proved more valuable to the slip of a girl that hid in the shadows than her countless days filled with begging and scrap collecting ever could.

There he was. The perfect target. A gentleman, well dressed even at the end of the day when the dust and grime of the city had long since settled on everything and everyone, wearing leathers and wool with a glint of silver in each ear. A plain silver ring caught her eye, visible around his finger for the brief moment it took to slip a heavy coin purse into the pocket of his woolen tunic.

The moment begged for her to act. It called out to her with the sweet promise of full bellies and warm clothing, perhaps even a solid roof over her head to block out Darkfall’s chill. Oh so many were the promises of that heavy purse and, beneath them all, the seductive siren’s song – riches untold, awaiting her.

She moved. A shadow in the shadows, she slipped between the tightly packed bodies of the citizens who had begun to move on, now, towards their homes and taverns, all in her efforts to reach him undetected.

Holding her breath she inched forward and stretched out a bony, dirty hand. Her fingers brushed over wool, tightened around leather, and began to slowly withdraw.

And then, a searing pain shot through her wrist, drawing stunned, inky-black eyes upward towards a cold, cruel face from which the eyes of the most patient of predators watched her impassively.

A pile of silver and boundless opportunities to accumulate more and what do I find myself doing?

Lingering in taverns like I’ve nothing better to do.

What have I been thinking?  The wine isn’t even very good.

While taverns are by far one of the best sources for gleaning information, they’ve been nothing but petty nonsense lately; drawing out only the worst of people without a hope for the the best or even the most interesting.What do I care of who’s sleeping with whom, or any of the rest of itOh sure, there’s been the occasional Vek sighting (well, suspicion anyway) and the uproar they’ve caused lately has almost completely squelched my own reputation within the city, but stillSeven forbid people actually use their Gods-given skills and intellect to do something… interesting for a change.

And those who wonder why we’re being hunted have to look no further than themselves to find the answers.

Pettiness makes us weak.

Weakness makes us prey.

I am neither, nor will I ever be.

I won’t be I REFUSE to be drawn into it again.

Who would have thought the suns would rise to see the world
bathed red beneath them?

If only it were Balor’s light giving an eerie glow to the
Crossroads, but it wasn’t… oh no, it wasn’t.

Who would have thought that I, the ruler of the streets, the
terror of the nobles, the bane of the Watch…

Who would have ever guessed that I would seek to defend this
city from those who would destroy it?

I may be the worst of my kind, but by all that’s holy, this
city is

MINE.

If you think you have good reason to know it ICly, contact me first please.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it.

And as an aside, if you’re interested in the character’s past, you can find earlier entries here:

Raven’s Journal