Chapter 2 - The Raven’s Story

It wasn’t a tavern really, but a type of rowdy inn. The windows had been thrown wide-open, noise travelling freely around the place. Two holes in the glass suggested that someone, or possibly, something, had broken it.
The tavern was busy, more so than usual. Drunks lay strewn across tables, benches and the floor, fist-fights breaking out every few rounds of drinks.
The smell was unbearable, ale, wine and rum taking over every clean breathing space possible.
Xavier watched uneasily from the window, and then slowly walked into the tavern, closely followed by Rayne and the owls.
People turned to stare at them, mostly at Rayne’s complexion and Xavier’s clothing. Women whispered and pointed at the Mage in his robes and Rayne’s face from their gossiping groups. Men turned to glare at the two, their eyes glinting with malice and taunts, as if daring Xavier to talk to them with his finery, and Rayne to even think of touching them.
One man, reeking of ale, stuck his legs out into Rayne’s path.

“So, we have a Drow among us,” he roared, not bothering to lower his voice. “Go back into the shadows where you belong Drow,” he hissed at her.

“Please move your overly large and ugly feet out of my way you great pig of an oaf,” she said sweetly, hiding her anger behind a well-made mask.

The man looked dumb for a moment, turning this over in his mind. Recognizing what Rayne had said as an insult, he growled and lunged at her. She moved quickly out of the way of the bumbling arms. Rayne struck the drunk’s chest with the blunt edge of her staff, smiling with a sort of grim satisfaction as he went flying backwards on his chair.
She went to sit down in a far corner of the tavern, Xavier trailing behind her.
He sat down opposite, pulling off his rings, looking at them with faint distaste, then stuffed them into his cloak.

“Charming place to stay the night,” he mimicked her.

She gave him a stony look, which he pretended not to see, and busied himself with ordering as a barmaid came over.

“Let’s see what’s on the menu… Ale, rum, wine, water, juice, beef, pork and, ah! A salad… with lamb,” he said, sighing heavily.

Rayne looked at the table, tracing the menu carved in its wooden surface, impatient to get on with what they had come for.

“One water, one wine and two salads if you please madam,” he said to the barmaid.

Both owls hooted.

“And two drumsticks,” he added.

The women moved off and quickly brought their order, risking several glances at Xavier.
The owls perched in the rafters, tearing hungrily into their drumsticks. Xavier sipped once at his wine and started to gulp down the salad, moving the lamb to the far side of the plate.
Rayne stared into her water and picked at her salad.

Xavier smacked his lips and rested his head on his hands.

“Now, about our, uh, little business. King Rowan has had, uh, problems with the neighbouring lands, you know, Yuri, Lang He and Charest. They have been invading lately, just little parts of Tavares, the mills, cornfields, and Rowan fears that this will lead to the bigger villages, ones the capital is dependant upon. We have an army, but Rowan’s high mage is, ah, let’s just say he’s a bit laid-off. I was asked to seek you out and ask if we could be so honored as to have you join our forces. We have been told much about your powers in shape shifting, and Rowan feels they are an excellent asset to have in an army.”

He paused, looking at her uneasily.

She looked blankly at him. “So the king believes that a young lad, or lady so it seems at this point, will come willingly to join his forces, fight in his honour, and use her powers to defeat other lands that he says have been invading. All of this, and on a single discussion with his one of his mages. How touching and unplanned.”

She could barely contain her laughter.

“We have strong forces, but not as strong as the combined strength of powerful mages, such as yourself. When the time comes close to war, we will strike first, fast and hard. But enough of this talk and tell me. How did you become known as The Raven?” he looked at her

She hesitated, and lowered her voice slightly. “Have you ever seen a silver raven?” she asked, her eyes glittering with excitement.

“Never, I’m afraid not. It has been said that only one has ever been seen. But, then again, a farmer, working his maize fields, could have been suffering from overwork, or maybe not.” He shrugged. “We have no way of knowing for sure.”

“I am also a shape-shifter, like you. My favorite shape was, and still is I might add, a silver raven. Before raiders killed my Mam and Da, we lived with my sister in a cottage by a clearing, not far from where we met. Mam was a full blood Elf and Da, full blood Drow, so I took after Da while my sister took after Ma. Once, when I was young, I was bad and flew too high in my raven form, and a farmer saw me. I was punished severely after that. My sister, younger than me, called me ‘The Raven’, and the name spread through our village and beyond to who-knows-where. Wild rumours started that I had saved the entire crop from a plague of locusts, and even wilder than that. I suppose it kind of ‘stuck’ to me after that, though no-one who sees me knows that I am the raven. The name born from a whipping.” She added, and sighed deeply.

Xavier was staring at her again, abandoning his attempts to be polite.

“For you to change into a bird from such a young age, you must have power to that of the Master Changer himself!” he cried, forgetting to keep his voice low.

People turned to stare.
Rayne blushed, the crimson colour showing faintly on her dark skin.
She drank the rest of her water slowly, and finished off her salad along with Xavier’s lamb chunks.

“I am tired. Let us get a decent room before they are all taken.” She said after a while, breaking the awkward silence that had followed.

At that, both stood mechanically and walked up the staircase to the key wall, selected a suitable room, took their keys from the wall, and left, closely followed by Opal and Shadow.
Xavier fingered his key, and tossed down a few gold coins for the meal.

“Good night”, he whispered as he passed her door.

Shadow hooted once, and followed him into his room, his great wings brushing the edges of the hallway walls.
Once inside his room, he locked the door and lit a candle.

“This will have to do for the night,” he sighed to himself as he looked about the drab room once, and climbed silently into bed, the wood creaking, fully clothed.

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