"You're… you're…you're MAD!"
"Everyone's mad, just some more than others."
"Yes we are mad."
"WE ARE NOT!"
"Calm yourself, Artemis. We do not lie, for what do we gain from that?"
"Yes, everything is gone, Artemis."
"Your home" Fowl Manor, a grey fortress up in flames.
"Your virginity" Butlar what are you doing? Butlar STOP!
"Your heart" Did he have one to begin with?
"Your mind" He had such a wonderful mind. He has it, but it is broken, like his body and soul.
"And your hope" Hope comes in the form of a raven.
"CARRRR! CARRRR!" It crows.
Mad is he? Heh, he supposes we are, he thought dryly.
…
The Tale of the Ravens.
Ravens charm, they sing sweet tales and weave trust.
Ravens lie, they whisper tall tales and give false comfort.
Ravens steal, what they take you can't get back.
Ravens break, with tools and stones they break the bones.
Ravens feast, on the flesh and on the soul.
The child is gone.
….
They say the raven was once white.
But it gave fire to man, making it's feather's black.
What they didn't say was that the raven made the flame from a child's pain.
…
He sat in the house of Ravens for 15 years. He was out of time and out of mind. The Ravens come with their midnight coats and stick needles in his heart made of gears and wires. It ticks and it tocks, but it never just stops.
….
Clicky clok, goes the clock, ticky tock, it never stops.
The ravens come, the ravens breathe, the ravens seethe, and the ravens heave.
They bring their drums and smack them back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
The ravens go up to him, him in the dark brown/red corner and whisper words of the outside world.
Years ago he would perk up and listen, anything to get him out of the emptiness in his world. Today he would listen and smile and kill the ravens.
Mommy Raven was did not care, as long as he made progress, for he was her favorite jewel.
Ravens did like shiny things.
…..
Is the lady that was looking at him distrustfully a raven? She had the ears of and the beak, but her eyes where that of a dove, not of the ravens.
Should he tell?
No, he lies, ravens lie and so does he.
Hush, Mommy Raven would say, pulling away some of his raven-black hair away.
Hush, for you tell lies.