The Shadows hold the Secrets

The cool wind rushed past her; flowing over and under her wings, taking her higher and higher.  Looking back Kieva saw her sprawling city fall away.  Most of the houses were dark, for few were awake so late at night.  As she turned towards the forest she could feel the presence of the Raven’s mind, whose body she was currently occupying.  The air was cold and refreshing, surging through her veins and the blood within.  The stars overhead shone brightly, providing warmth unable to be felt on the ground.  They seemed close enough to touch.  If I were to reach out now, she thought, I could pluck one out of the sky.  To her delight, the Raven seemed to agree.  She was dreaming, she knew; yet it all seemed so wonderfully real.  She loved her raven dreams.  As a raven she was free.  Free to explore, free to fly away.

Up ahead loomed the forest, a tangle of mist and shadows.  An anticipating thrill crept down her spine – the forest offered excitement.  Excitement to break the choking monotony of daily life.  The forest now lay beneath her, stretching into the distance.  The sound of drumbeats captured her attention.  She’d been hearing them for some time now, she realised, becoming louder as she flew steadily westwards.  Though slightly muffled, they were easy to trace.  She noticed a bright, flickering glow through a small break in the trees.  Firelight.  The wavering beacon grew brighter as the drumbeats grew louder.  For some unknown reason, the erratic drumbeats chilled her heart.  She hesitated.  For better or for worse, curiosity won the battle with caution.

She circled.  The scene below disabled all thought.  Three enormous interlocking stars were drawn in some sort of white dust.  No, not dust – ash.  A skeletal strand of smoke from the fire at the core of the symbol snaked up to the sky.  At the edge of the firelight, shadowy, hooded figures formed a ring around the fire.  Some were beating drums, all were chanting.  The chant was led by one solitary figure in the centre by the fire.  It was completely covered by a dark red cloak.  The cloak was a rich wine colour, though the cowl that encompassed its head seemed closer to blood.  If midnight were red it would be that colour.  Its face was unable to be seen, for it was hidden in shadow.  It stood tall, arms close to its body.  The figure was statue still; yet it was chanting loudly and steadily, clearly leading.  The chant itself was harsh and guttural, and unpleasant to hear.  Overhead, Kieva felt a great unease at being present at such a gathering.

Wheeling around, she landed on a branch in a nearby tree.  The dark leaves enveloped her, lending a verdant shroud to make her invisible.  The smell of charred wood was stifling.  The chanting adopted a tone of urgency.  As if woken from a trance, the central figure became animated.  It spread its arms, as though offering itself for sacrifice.  Suddenly the figure dropped, falling to its knees.  It threw its head back with an unearthly cry, and resumed chanting.  The hood of the cloak began to slip.  Above, the secret intruder observed in terror.  A scream struggled to escape her throat, yet to utter a sound would prove fatal.  She forced it back, choking on her morbid fear.  Petrified, Kieva was forced to observe the uncovering of horrors concealed in shadows beneath a cloak.

The hood fell back to reveal not a monstrous or scarred face, but the face of a woman.  It was an ashen face, surrounded by a mane of golden locks.  Her lips were dry and cracked from the constant chanting, her dark eyes devoid of soul and pleading.  Streaks of sweat stained her face and hair.  Blonde strands clung to her cheeks and forehead.  She thrust her arms up to the sky.  The large sleeves fell back, exposing pale, slim arms and slender hands.

A violent gust of wind swept through the trees.  The single strand of smoke doubled back on itself.  Lightening followed.  The smoke, now unaffected by the weather, began to thicken and spread.  Within it, there seemed to form faces, some laughing, others screaming.  Grey claws tore at them all.  The urgent chanting reached a crescendo and stopped, replaced by the wind.  Thought there was still no pattern to them, the drumbeats came faster and faster.  The woman was once again motionless.  To Kieva she appeared to be waiting.  Waiting for what? One thought filled her mind.  Escape.  Without knowing why, Kieva knew she had to get back to her own body before the drumbeats stopped.

With knives of sharp terror piercing her heart, she leapt into the air.  The wind immediately tossed her from side to side.  Reeling with panic she tried to regain control.  After a few moments the sky was calm again.  The sound of the rapid drums filled her mind.  As she flew east she could feel negative energy gather and form behind her; she could feel It’s presence.  The forest was once again beneath her, dark and formidable.  Who knew what other secrets it was concealing?  Now the stars held no warmth.  Instead they glittered like shards of glass – sharp and dangerous – strewn across dark blue velvet.  The sky ahead began to lighten.  Her town came into view, with the rising sun just behind.  The sun seemed to offer her safety; safety from shadows and the evil she had witnessed.  The town offered her shelter.  Though still with her, the blinking terror subsided to a deep throb.  Slightly calmer now, she was once again in control of her borrowed body.

Despite the fact that she had flown a long distance, she could still hear those rapid drums nearing their climax.  Landing on the window ledge of the bedroom, she glanced around inside.  Even through her terror she couldn’t help but notice the large bed.  Beneath the covers was a small heap that she knew to be her own sleeping body.  Her own body.  She had to get back to her own body before the drums stopped.

She sat up, shivering and drenched in sweat.  She turned her head at the sound of wings; saw a raven black bird fly away.  It wasn’t the only sound she heard.  As she regained her senses, she heard the last drums cease.