The Raven's Shadow

Ketti:See? Chapter two! Aren't you glad I'm attempting to update daily, and when that fails, I multi-post to make up for it?

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Seras jerked blindly awake, flinging herself off the tree branch just as an arrow hit the trunk where her head would have been mere seconds prior. The agile blonde caught herself on a lower limb and launched herself forwards, another arrow landing in her wake. A third arrow brushed her hair and she cursed as she slithered down the trunk, blue eyes wide as her bare feet slid in the slippery leaves. Shit.

Voices cried out behind her and she rolled into the bushes, a thunk signaling the fourth impact. Scurrying on all fours she tumbled gratefully into the dry gully and raced through the ditch like her life depended on it – it did, actually – for the safety of the Church.

CAW!

Seras ducked and rolled and felt the vibration in her bones as the large boulder tumbled into the dry bed, it would have crushed her if she had been a moment slower! Cursing, she put on an extra burst of speed as she heard footfalls above her, the men were gaining on her and she was still too far from the Church to call for Father Anderson's help.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she reacted without thinking; grabbing the nearest tree root she scrambling up the side of the gully nimble as a squirrel, throwing herself through the trees and onto the path without looking back.

A sharp whinny pierced her ears just as a flicker of movement caught the corner of her eye, and she nearly stumbled as the massive black stallion reared, threatening to knock her head clean off her shoulders. Whimpering under her breath she dove forward between the thrashing legs and caught a glimpse of the rider; a giant of a man wearing heavy silver armor with a black and red cape, his face obscured by the blackness of his tangled hair. Her sharp ears caught the men's surprised shouts as they encountered the frustrated animal, and she prayed that they would be held up long enough for her to make it to safety.

The towering white building loomed ever closer, and she nearly sobbed in relief, lungs burning as she vaulted up over the wall and slammed into the enormous wooden doors, pounding on them and shrieking like a banshee, "Sanctuary! Sanctuary!"

Quick as a flash the two leaves were thrown open and Seras fell into the arms of the priest with a cry. "Father!"

Father Alexander Anderson swept one arm around her shoulders and peered out into the empty yard before closing the doors behind her, "There there, lass, yer safe now. Ah told ye nae t' sleep in those woods."

His tone was gentle and scolding as he led her deeper into the cathedral, the stained glass windows throwing ethereal light across the cavernous house of worship.

"I know," Seras admitted sheepishly, grateful for his concern, "but 'tis been rainin' th' past week, Father, I'd catch me death o' cold if I slept on th' streets."

He grunted in agreement and patted her shoulder as he sat her down in the front pews, "Aye, but ye ken ye can come tae me for shelter."

Seras gave him a watery smile, holding back her sniffles from sheer force of will, "O'course, Father. But I dun wan'ta be a burden! Imagine th' scandal o' th' witch-child sleepin' in th' church? They'd cry I seduced ye." She giggled, and he nodded solemnly. They'd had this conversation many times; Seras was an orphan, and while she had spent her childhood here in the church, once she had reached thirteen the villagers had begun muttering about her and magick. In fact, Seras had heard, they'd even begun to speculate that she had killed her parents after they discovered the Devil's Mark upon her. Which was utter nonsense! Her parents died from the Sickness, and the fact that she survived was a miracle. Father Anderson had known her God-fearing parents very well, and had christened her when she was a babe. He was her sole defender against the nasty rumors, decrying their supposed proof with his own; witches cannot stand the touch of holy water, yet he blessed her every week at Mass. That and more, for every complaint they lodged against her, he countered with his own praise and protection.

But they both knew he could only do so much, and it was a matter of time before…

Well, that was a thought for another day. She'd spend the night here and return to her place in the streets on thr morrow.

"Thank y'Father, for bein' here f'r me." Seras gave the priest a hug before hunkering down to sleep on the pew.


Seras took a deep breath of the crisp morning air as she stood at the gate, the sun barely peeking over the edge of the horizon. A gentle caw greeted her in turn and she held up her hand to allow the large black raven to land. Petting the creature fondly, she slipped easily into the shadows and in no time at all stood before the bakery. Raising a finger to her lips, she crept around to the back and knocked near-silently on the door. It opened with a muffled creak and a wary brown eye sized her up before the door opened further and she was yanked inside, "Quick! Afore they eee ye."

Faustus, her faithful winged companion ruffled his feathers before hopping off her wrist to the chair back so that he could watch over the going's on. June, the baker's wife, gave the bird a wary glance before tossing him a few crumbs and handing Seras a hunk of old bread. "Go on, e't up so ye can help wi' th' bakin'."

Seras nodded and smiled gratefully up at the brunette woman whose belly swelled heavily with her third child. Seras hoped the babe would survive, she cared dearly for June and her husband Deuce. The baker's wife was one of few who did not treat her as a witch or believe the wicked rumors, but she did not need her customers knowing that Seras helped her bake the bread or they'd run her out of town.

Hours passed in companionable silence before June shooed her away as the lunch crowd started, and Seras stuck one of the cheese filled bread loves into her bag – her payment – before hot footing it out the back and up one of the overgrown trellis lining the alley.

Seras hopped along the flat roofs of the shop-houses until she reached the beginning of the mud-and-thatch section of town, to which she jumped down in a flutter of her ragged brown cloak and, after looking around her carefully, ducking between two of the huts to crawl into the large berry bush. Settling into the open space in the center, she lay back and stared up at the dappled green light. She'd wait an hour or two and then she'd see about visiting Mrs. Hazel, the doctor's wife that taught her how to read. Literacy was a rare skill, especially for females, but Mrs. Hazel had learned from her husband and shared the gift to any that were willing o learn.

Just… a little longer…

She drifted off in a doze, the rustling of leaves and a whisper soft caw announcing Faustus' return as he nestled into the bush her as a lookout.


Seras' dreams were filled with fire that choked her lungs and smoldered at her heels, and she woke with a gasp to meet the curious face of a green eyed toddler. Faustus hadn't warned her of company and when Seras looked up, she was stunned to see the raven asleep. Raising a finger to her lips, she dug into her bag and broke off a small chunk of bread for the child, who grinned even wider and quickly backed out of her hiding spot with his bribe.

Seras waited a tense moment to see if his parents would notice anything amiss, and breathed a sigh of relief when there was nothing. Pursing her lips, she whistled softly, the tune similar to a song bird, and Fuastus ruffled his feathers as he woke with a quiet caw. Peering down at her with his beady b;ack eyes, Seras gave him a finger wave before he took wing and settled atop the roof of the house behind her, watching for any curious eyes. The coast was clae, and so he voiced the throaty warble that was their personal signal.

Crawling out of the bush, Seras jumped in alarm when she heard a shrill voice cry 'Oi!' and she ran as the house wife came barreling out her back door, rolling pin in hand as she shouted obscenities at the fleeing witch.

As she turned the corner, she heard the sharp caw! of alarm, but it was too late and she ran face first into a burly man's chest. He snarled at her and grabbed her by her short blonde hair, throwing her against the wall as he pulled his belt free. "Witch! Eh'll leahn yeh sum mannehs! Eh'll beat th' bad roight outa yeh!"

Seras yelped and squirmed as he kicked her legs out and she barely felt the first impact of his belt on her back, too preoccupied with escape. Then the buckle slapped the back of her neck and she shrieked, curling in on herself as the brown cloak tore, revealing her stained white smock, the back marred with old red lines and clumsy stitches. The cloth split easily under the heavy leather, revealing a roadmap of ugly scars, new blood trickling over the lumpy bands.

"Witch! Give up thy masth Satan an' retuhn teh th' Lord God."

Seras's shoulders shook with silent sobs as hot fire lanced her spine. Blood oozed across her skin in slippery waves and she felt spatters of it caress the back of her neck and the arms thrown up over her head as the whipping continued.

Unfontunaely for her, in her struggled her pounch had been overturned, and the angry peasant roared and smashed the loaf under his muddy foot. "Thief! Neht jus' a witch, yeh evil child, now yeh steal, too!"

Seras saw her life flash before her eyes then, and for a moment she welcomed the threat of death. Then her shoulders stiffened and she gathered her feet under her carefully, shielded by the tatters of her cloak. It hurt to breathe, but she knew she needed to move. Now, do it now, Seras. Now!

As if her mental resolve were some sort of signal, she heard a vicious screech as Faustus swooped down on the man, and she knew that her raven's talons were just as sharp as his beak. The man shrieked in alarm and backed up, and that was all the space Seras needed. Gathering her torn clothing, she ran, crimson footprints marking her path. She felt dizzy, lightheaded, and she began to shiver as the breeze caressed her damp skin. She needed to reach higher ground.

Spotting one of the trellises she used, she clambered up it with wheezing gasps, and collapsed on the roof in a dead faint.

The sky rumbled and the clouds opened in a gentle rain, washing the evidence away and cleaning the blood from her clammy skin. She shivered and huddled deeper into her ruined clothing. It seemed the rain would go on forever, but English rain is fickle, and it stopped after a moment, its job done. Seras slept on, unaware, and Fuastus landed at her side a moment later to stand guard.