A/N - If you haven't read my update on the first page, please do so before continuing. I've changed my mind about some things.


A/N - If you haven't read my update on the first page, please do so before continuing. I've changed my mind about some things.


Early morning, Somewhere in the Moors

The morning was bright and the sun rose high, gently caressing the life below on the surface of the world. Diaval cut through the air with ease, daring the headwind to fight him for dominance over the skies. It was exhilarating to fly free again, but at the same time, it was a painful reminder that he was once more, all alone. For almost twenty years he'd stayed at the side of the most powerful faerie in the lands, but now she had dismissed him from her service. He was all alone, and empty.

Days.

Had it been days? Weeks, perhaps, he stayed, perched on that branch, hoping beyond any hope that she'd circle back to see if he was still there, waiting… ever her loyal servant and companion. Maleficent would sometimes test him like that, after all. She was easily bored, and easily amused. This, however, was no test. This time, she'd actually released him, and disappeared from his life forever.

He stayed there as long as he could, until the sorrow, and the despair, and the hunger took him and he could wait no longer. He needed to hunt, and perhaps just clear his mind and heart, whatever that meant. What did that mean? What did any of this mean? Did it mean anything at all? He glided low to the water, letting a leg drag along the surface as he'd often see her do after they returned triumphant to the Moors, when she'd smiled at him and they flew together like a truly bonded pair. Like young ravens, with nothing but life and love and laughter ahead of them.

What have I done?

He paid no heed to the direction he travelled or how long he was in the air, floating easily on the breeze, barely navigating and hardly caring whether he even hit anything. What did it matter anyway? His mistress no longer needed his services, no longer needed him, and that was the end to it. Life was nothing more than hunting, flying, and waiting for death. There wasn't much else for him, now.

I should never have asked her. I should have just stayed around. She might never have addressed it, but at least I'd still be with her.

He sighed inwardly and turned his head toward the clouds, gaining altitude and speed. He was nearly to the border between kingdoms, and perhaps leaving the Moors behind was precisely what he needed to…

To what? Forget? How can I ever forget…I can't…

Diaval slowed his ascent and glanced around for a perch. He wasn't quite ready to cross into the neighboring kingdom, but he did want to gaze out at it and think about what he might do next. Coming to a large oak that was likely a slumbering giant, he extended his feet and gripped lightly to a high and lonely branch near the pinnacle. There, he caught his breath and looked around him at the beauty and wonder of the Two Kingdoms; both bathed in light, but both also coming out of a long darkness. Maleficent and Aurora had much work to do in order to repair all the damage done, no small task for either fae or human.

And I should have been there to help them do it. Why did she leave? I thought she needed me too. Have I misinterpreted everything?

Diaval relaxed on his perch, silently looking over the landscape. There was some small activity, humans coming and going on their business, carts and horses heading toward the castle. All was business as usual, but one out of place object caught his eye. At first glance it looked like a wagon, just a merchant trading vessel like all the others, but this one didn't have a horse attached. In fact, it didn't even have a driver. It was far closer to the Moors than any of the others, and Diaval's sharp eyes focused on the area, looking for the owner.

I wonder what that is all about.

He left the branch and circled high above, hoping to get a better look. The cart definitely wasn't like the others. There was smoke coming out of it, and though he could see no fire, he could see a pair of legs sticking out from underneath it.

I need to get closer.

Diaval silently landed in a nearby clearing, close enough to hear and see what was going on, but far enough away that he shouldn't be noticed. The legs sticking out from under the cart were definitely human, and the voice he heard was decidedly female.

Very curious.

"If you're happy and you know it clap your hands!" *clomp clomp*

"If you're happy and you know it clap your hands!" *bang bang*

"If you're happy and you know it and you really wanna show it, if you're happy and you know it clap your hands!" *Smash*

"FUCK!"

The scream took Diaval by surprise, as did the incoherent string of expletives that followed. Something had happened that was causing the human pain. He hopped forward to get a clearer view, and soon he found the source of the distress. One of the wheels of the 'cart' had shattered, and the entire vehicle was leaning at an odd angle. The human's right hand was pinned underneath at the wrist, and she was struggling to get free.

"Shit, I need some leverage." She twisted her body to push with her legs, but the cart was too heavy and she couldn't get a good foothold. "Are you kidding? Where is that crowbar when I need it?"

Diaval saw another hand feeling around outside the cart, presumably looking for some tool to aid in the escape, but there wasn't anything nearly long enough to provide the necessary force to lift the corner of the cart up.

I need to find something to help her.

*caw caw*

"What was that?" A head peeked out this time, looking around for the source of the sound. "Hey," the stranger called out in the general direction of nothing, "I'm not dead yet so you can stop circling. I've been out of wayyy worse shit than this, so take your carrion-loving featherbut outta here!"

*caw caw*

"No, I will not just curl up and die because you're hungry." The human started to struggle against the cart with renewed vigor, pulling hard on the broken hand. "I'll cut it off before I become raven meal. Don't think I don't know what you are up to."

Diaval rolled his eyes at the human's misinterpretation of his raven-speak and dropped a long metal bar next to her head. He'd found it inside the 'cart' and thought it must be what she was looking for. He nodded once and then flew a short distance away where he saw a pile of roundish rocks.

*caw caw* He spoke again as he nudged the largest one he could move toward her.

"No I do not taste good with mustard. You're sick, you know that? You shouldn't play with your food." The human woman grabbed the iron bar and pulled it under the cart just as Diaval rolled the rock in range.

*caw caw*

"No, I'm not a vegan, either. My meat is tough and miserable. You'd hate it."

The human took the rock then, and laid it just in front of her. Placing the bar on it and under the cart near her hand, she was able to apply just enough pressure to slip the broken wrist out. "Wow that was close. You almost had a free meal. Thanks for the help." The stranger smiled a quiet smile and looked at him with cunning, intelligent eyes. He got the feeling she understood exactly what he'd been saying to her, though he couldn't detect anything particularly magical. Perhaps she came from the far north, where it was said the humans had learned to talk to beasts. Well, it didn't really matter anyway. He hopped back a few paces.

The young girl examined her wrist, wincing as she touched the damaged flesh and bone. "Yep, it's broken all right. Now I don't have a choice but to go to that human kingdom. I'd hoped to avoid it, but it seems fate has other plans for me."

*caw caw*

Diaval nodded toward the woods behind them, toward the Moors. Someone there would be able to help heal the injury, if the human didn't want to journey further into Aurora's realm.

"Oh no not me, mister. I know better than to be indebted to a fae. There is always a price, and it's never what you expect it to be. It's a good suggestion, but I think I'll stick with the humans. They have a price too, but that price is always gold. Gold is one thing I have plenty of. I don't have time or patience to deal with some faerie turning me into her slave. Well," the stranger reconsidered, "it might not be too bad…. No definitely not. Human kingdom it is."

Diaval couldn't argue. The girl was right, of course. There was always a price when dealing with the fae, and it was always precious. A fae had once saved his life, and the price was high, higher than any he could have imagined. The price had been his heart, which now was shattered and broken, just like the human's wrist.

*caw caw*

"I'll have to leave it here. I can't finish the repair like this." The human stood and dusted herself off, favoring her right hand. "Looks like I'm back to walking." She reached into the cart with her good arm and pulled out a small pack, which she strapped securely to her back. She reached in one more time and produced a silver dagger, which she slung around her waist. "Well, thanks again. You should probably eat something, though. You're pretty scrawny looking."

*caw caw*

"No, that was not an offer." The human smiled and shook her head before turning. "I'm sure there's a mouse or something in these fields. That's what you birds of prey eat, right?"

*caw caw*

Diaval hopped along behind the human, more out of curiosity than anything. She was about Aurora's age, maybe a little older, and walked with a slight limp, as if she had a deformity or an old injury that never healed. Given her clear propensity for accidents, Diaval didn't think it too farfetched. She had hair unlike any he'd ever seen; colored with calico patches like some of the housecats he'd seen in the human kingdom and sticking up in every direction. She was thin and lanky, with a kind face, and Diaval decided he liked her.

"Oh, you want to hang around in case I do fall over and die. Still after that easy meal, hmm?" The human stopped and turned toward him again, grinning like the wild cats often did when they jumped from treetop to treetop. "Very well, though you look terrible. Do feathers grow back? Those missing patches really make you look even thinner. Now what should I call you?"

That was one question he didn't want to answer. It sounded far too much like another question asked of him, all those years ago, in a very different lifetime.

"Don't have a name? Don't want to tell me? I know. I'll call you Diablo. It's appropriate. You look like you've been through hell. Well, let's get on with it. The sooner we find a healer the sooner we can get a decent meal." The human turned around again and continued walking, her purpose clear.

*caw caw*

"Oh, right," she looked over her shoulder. "You can call me Darla. Darla and Diablo. Has kind of a nice ring to it, no?"

Diaval cocked his head to the side, contemplating. He could attach himself to a new mistress, though this human was hardly what he would consider a commanding presence. She was more like a child, like Aurora, a spirit that needed guidance and protection. She'd clearly been on her own for quite some time, but there was still innocence about her. Her calico colored hair was an unkempt mess, and the mud and dirt from the road clung to her garments like dew of the morning on the lazy leaves back in the Moors. By all accounts she was a filthy disaster with an even filthier mouth, yet there was something there, something he couldn't explain. She was like, a fresh start.

Diablo. I suppose I could get used to it.

*caw*

He took wing and flew high into the sky, circling above his new companion, but ever watchful for the dark shadow of another, a shadow he feared he may never see again.