15 - See Me

Quite how long I had been unconscious, I did not know. My eyes, initially greeted by the sea of murky greys, browns and greens again, slowly started to focus and my leafy surroundings gradually sharpened.

I didn't dare make any sudden moves. I recalled the injury which had put me there and I also had to take into consideration the extra bruising I would have accumulated on the way down to my present location.

I gingerly turned my head to look at my wing. It was spread wide, my primaries open, hanging over the edge of the broad limb I lay prostrate upon.

The arrow had snapped on the way down, both at its head and just below the cresling. The remaining shaft was still considerable. I was going to have to extract it and hope that it had not severed either my pectoralis major nor any critical tendons. If it had, then I would lose the ability to fly altogether. With luck, it had merely grazed them or better still simply nicked the thin membranes surrounding them. I was dreading the next move I'd make, I knew it was going to be painful.

Sweet Elune! I hated being right sometimes. Instinctively, I omitted a lengthy screech and rapid clicks as I rolled my body weight until I was on my side.

My body shuddered with the agony. I panted, biding my time until the pain subsided, before I took the shaft in my beak. I counted to three then tugged. More pain shot through my wing and I quickly I let go, rolling onto my back again, my right wing flinching spasmodically.

Although it didn't help me, I now understood why Sarah swore so profusely whenever she hurt herself. I particularly recalled her colourful language when giving birth.

The memory of her determination to see it through without using Brillyn's or her own healing abilities to ease her pain, calmed me considerably. Her bravery made me all the more determined to do what was necessary and survive.

I gathered my thoughts, and focused with all that I had. I swerved over and grabbed the shaft once more. This time I did not let go and although my entire body trembled with the effort, I kept going until it was removed entirely.

Panting once more, the piece of wood slipped from my beak and fell onto the soft lawn below. The exertion however had drained me and once more, my mind closed down as I slipped into dark oblivion.

I was pulled back to consciousness by a woman's voice shouting at someone. Her words at first were muffled, as if I were underwater or in a vacuum, but her fragmentary vocals soon became clear. "Do you hear me, Dane Newbery? I said get down from that tree!" the woman's voice was closer and had lowered to a throaty rasp.

My vision, once more hazy, nonetheless noticed a shadow fall over me. Ordinarily I would have panicked, but I felt too weak to muster even a shudder.

Another, more youthful voice, answered the woman. "I'm fine mother! I've gotta rescue this bird."

The woman responded in a growl. "If Sarah comes back and sees you clambering all over her garden she'll be furious."

"No she won't, she'll be fine. I do it all the time," the younger replied, a hint of mirth in their tone.

"Dane! I'm warning you…"

As the woman's voice droned on below, I felt small hands carefully slipping under my body and lifting me up. "What's your story then, birdie?" A small face came into view. A young boy, with a mop of black hair and bright blue eyes was staring down at me.

He was vaguely familiar, but I did not have the energy to work out who he was. I felt weaker by the moment. "No time for dallying," the boy said quietly. "You are in need of help."

With that he placed me in what I can only describe as a sling which was tied around his neck. Although he tried to be careful, the transition from tree limb to sling was still painful for me and I managed a rather pathetic caw and click of my beak as he secured me within the cloth transportation.

I could not see where I was going but I sensed we were descending at least. The boy moved slowly, as if trying his best not to cause me more discomfort, but it was not easy climbing down a tree. I looked up as his face peered into the sling. "How you holding up birdie?" he said with a smile. A quick cuff around the ear from his mother soon made the smile disappear.

"Today of all days and you show such disrespect!" she said hotly.

"Ow!" Dane complained. "Actually mother, it is with respect that I have rescued this bird." I could just make out the boy rubbing his ear before the folds of the sling flopped over me.

"And just how do you make that out?"

"Look!" he opened the sling further so she could look inside. "I heard its cries from across the wall and I just had to come over and rescue it."

A look of genuine surprise spread on her face, then she swallowed. She raised her hand to the boy again, but this time she gently cupped his chin. "Oh Dane," she said softly. "You realise it's not..."

"Yes, I know mother," Dane replied quickly. "But, he is a raven, and I thought it fitting to show some kindness to him, considering. Besides, he is quite badly injured."

The boy's mother smiled and nodded. "I understand son. Okay, let's get him inside and see what we can do for him."

The boy manoeuvred the sling very carefully so that he held me within by both hands as he made his way across the lawn. A six foot stone wall loomed in front of us. Dread suddenly engulfed me.

Dane stopped in his tracks as his mother cleared her throat. "We will go the proper way this time Dane. You cannot go over the wall with the bird, you will risk injuring him more."

The boy glanced down at me, looking a little shamefaced. He turned away from the wall and headed towards the iron gate which led out into the back alley. I was very thankful that his mother had intervened. I felt very sleepy but each time my head lolled to the side, Dane would nudge me with his thumbs to bring me alert again. It was a bit of a losing battle really, for I was considerably weakened from my injuries and the loss of blood. My eyes closed and I drifted.

Even in the boy's hands, I felt the chill of perpetual sleep ripple over me like the ebb and flow of a sea caressing the shore. It was oddly comforting, even enticing, but I would not allow it to seduce me. I had reason to live and this young boy and his mother were going to help me regain some of my strength at least.

Time had no meaning to me anymore. I could not gauge how long I had wandered in the land between sleep and wakefulness, all I knew, was that I was safe and these kind souls had taken me in.

At one point I discovered myself on a table in what I assumed was their kitchen judging from the cupboards I saw and the sound of a dripping tap.

Above me a pulley from which tightly bound bouquets of herbs and dried flowers such as peacebloom, mageroyal, briarthorn and swiftthistle hung as well as some pots and pans. I could hear something bubbling on a stove off to my right.

The smell of the dried flora mixed with whatever was cooking was a strange aroma indeed, not exactly pleasing to my nostrils but neither was it objectionable. I moved my head a little at the sound of something solid being placed close to my head.

The woman plucked some of the dried herbs and flowers from the pulley and placed them into a mortar, then worked them with the pestle, adding an ochre coloured viscous liquid. She blended the ingredients methodically, adding a little extra of whatever she felt was required.

"Now, gently spread his injured wing, Dane. I need to clean the wound first." She moved away for a few moments, then returned with a small bowl and cloth.

Misty coloured memories of another woman coming to my aid in a similar fashion washed over me. Images of Lakeshire floated across my inner vision. A second later I screeched and flinched as I felt the cloth and warm water connect with my broken flesh.

The rough ridges of crusted blood softened and peeled away under the damp cloth. The woman was as gentle as she could be but still it hurt, it felt like sandpaper against my skin. My beak clicked several times but she continued cleaning my wound.

Dane stroked my chest and head, making soft hushing sounds as his mother then placed small amounts of the healing herb concoction onto my wound. Its cool, soothing properties removed the sting of the cloth having rubbed against raw flesh and gradually all tension in my body dissolved. Only slight aches remained.

"Will he be alright now?" I heard Dane ask his mother.

"Yes, he is lucky, for it is not as serious as I first thought, but he will need sleep…"

My saviours voices grew faint, distant. The last thing I remembered was their placing me in a box lined with strips of soft, fragrant fabric. I gladly surrendered to a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

"Stop poking him!" Dane's voice filtered through the murk of my ascendance from unconsciousness.

"I'm not poking him, I'm just nudging him to wake him up." A new voice answered.

"Leave him alone! I found him."

"So? He's not yours, he's not anyone's."

"Father! Mother! Sade's at it again!"

"Get lost Dane."

My eyes peeled open as a short pink finger closed in on my head. Instinctively I cawed.

"He's awake!" The new voice said excitedly.

"Mother!" Dane yelled.

"Shut up, you tell tale!"

I heard heavy footfalls nearing followed by a throaty growl. "What's going on here you two?"

"Sade is bothering the raven, father, she won't listen."

I heard an exasperated sigh. "Sade, you should know better. Wounded beasts need rest to heal."

"He's had almost two days father," the girl replied. "He will need to eat or he will not have enough strength to fly, mended wing or no."

Two days? I had lain in this box for two days? Weak as I still felt, I shuffled my legs beneath me, bracing myself for pushing up into a standing position. I clicked my beak a few of times, frustrated that it took me a four attempts to rise, albeit shakily.

Once I was up, I was startled by the young girl who appeared in front of me, clapping excitedly. Just like Dane, her hair was black but it framed her face in soft ringlets. Bright blue eyes just the same too, there was a strong resemblance to the boy.

Finally it dawned on me. They were the Newbery twins. Their father Zachary and mother Ellen, both Gilneans had been kindly neighbours to Sarah and I welcoming us when we first moved in, but were never intrusive individuals.

I looked around and found the whole family now in front of me.

"Well ain't you a chipper looking one?" Ellen said smiling at me. Truth be told, I felt anything but 'chipper', but there was no denying I was much better than I had been when Dane had found me. I jumped onto the rim of the box, wobbling slightly until I found my balance.

Automatically I opened my wings and flinched slightly at the tightness under my left one. I nuzzled my beak underneath it, inspecting the wound. It had healed quite remarkably, the herb infused salve having indeed worked wonders.

The test of course would be when I tried to fly but that would have to wait a little while. My body as a whole still ached, the battering from the tree limbs having awarded me many bruises and still tender, but generally speaking, I was much better. For now, hadn't there been the mention of food? I cawed and looked to Ellen, expectantly.

I heard a small chuckle to my right. Dane stood, his fingers toying over his mouth as he giggled. He was soon joined by Sade who reached out to stroke my chest. I clicked my beak and she quickly retracted her hand but then, after a moment, reached forward again. "I think he wants food, mother," she said turning her bright blues up to Ellen.

"Aye, I dare say he does. Bring him through then." She turned and led the way. Dane stepped forward and offered his arm for me to jump on and I accepted gladly.

As we moved through the house I took in the surroundings. We vacated an area which had been surrounded in glass; a greenhouse by all accounts.

Pots and trays lined shelving, some were empty while a few had small shoots sprouting, others still boasted full grown plants. The air was sweet, the smell of rich earth and a myriad of flora ranging from pungent herbs such as Goldthorn, Lichbloom, Mountain Sage to sweeter exotic ones such as Talandra's Rose, Heartblossom, Rain Poppy and Golden Lotus. The combination was altogether analgesic, calmative and most pleasing. I made a mental note to inform Sarah of our neighbours' floricultural talents.

The living quarters were spacious, well appointed and welcoming. Very much in keeping with their roots, the Gilnean decor was rustic, in deep reds, browns, teal and ochres. Reminiscent of their years being kept behind the great wall, its earthy and basic foundations still manifested an ambience of warmth, peace and tranquility. The Newbery's had made a very pleasant home here in Stormwind.

Back in the kitchen and Ellen cut up some fresh fruit then placed it on a tin plate with some grain. She slid the banquet in front of me. I looked up at each of the faces, all of which watched me with quiet regard.

"Go ahead boy, eat!" Zachary encouraged.

No need to tell me twice. I had no idea of just how hungry I was until I took the first bite of the peach. Its sweetness was like nectar to a bee, sublime. I ate with vigour.

The children were laughing at me as bits of grain pinged about the dish and table along with fruit seeds and stones, but I was too enraptured with the deliciousness in front of me to care about my table manners. As I ate, Ellen inspected my wing.

"He is healing nicely," she said.

"Will he be able to fly?" Dane asked.

"I would think so, yes."

"I will put him atop the garden wall a little later," Zachary announced.

"So soon?" Sade wailed. "Can't we keep him a bit longer?"

Ellen laughed softly. "No, Sade. He belongs in the wild, he should be free."

The young girl sighed heavily. Then her voice brightened. "Maybe he will visit us for feeds though."

"Maybe he will," Ellen said.

A silence ensued before I heard Zachary ask Dane what was wrong. I looked up from my meal, my beak covered in soft fruit flesh and grain. The boy looked sad. His eyes met mine and I watched as a tiny tear threatened. "I guess deep down, I kept hoping he was perhaps...you know? Him. He was a nice man, I liked him."

The boy's father placed an arm around his young shoulders. "Aye, that he was. The Archmage was a good neighbour and a kind man."

"He promised to show us some magic tricks when he returned from the war with the Void," Sade said quietly. "I was looking forward to that." She sniffed. I felt a stab of pain at the girl's words. I could not recall making such a promise, but I swore there and then that if I could be transformed to my human self, I would indeed put on a little magic show for them.

Ellen smiled wistfully. "I shall look in on Sarah soon. It is too early to call upon her today, it being her first day back in their home."

My head snapped round. Sarah was home? I had to get to her. Somehow I had to let her know I was alive and that she needed to give the journal to Illidan.

Although I was still stiff and sore, I flapped my wings and cawed. "Looks like our guest is wanting to leave already," Zachary said, moving closer to me. The children wailed "No!" but their parents told them it was the right thing to do. I hated causing them upset, but this was important and how after all, could I keep my promise to them if I did not leave now? I jumped onto Zachary's arm, still flapping my wings to test how they felt before I made the big move.

Ellen pulled Dane and Sade close against her apron, hushing them and rubbing their forearms affectionately. It was tempting to blast a frost bolt as a clue to my identity, but I refrained. It would serve no purpose. It would neither guarantee their realising who I was and would probably only upset them more.

I turned away as their father approached the rear door. The children's sobs echoed in my ears; it was heart-breaking. We stepped out into the garden. The rays filtering through the soft clouds let me know it was late morning. I looked back into the kitchen.

Dane and Sade were now at the doorway, watching, their bright blue eyes shimmering with tears. I had never expected to have such an effect on two young children who barely knew the real me. It was strangely warming yet hugely woeful.

I looked forward again as Zachary raised his arm and guided me onto the wall which separated our homes. My claws made little click, clack sounds as they alighted the stone. I could not bring myself to face the children again, so I fixed my stare on the walls and windows of my home. My heart started to beat faster, louder. Sarah was within those walls, along with our son.

It was then I realised my pounding heart was not just hammering because I was euphoric at seeing her again, but also because I was absolutely terrified. I was so close and yet so far from my heart's desire. What if she had decided to suddenly clear out everything that was mine? Now the funeral was passed, how could she possibly maintain hope that I would return?

Furthermore, if she was packing everything away, including the contents of my study, she may not have seen the journal. So she would never know how deeply I loved her right up to the end and that I would never stop loving her. Equally, she would not have seen the note to hand the journal to Illidan and therefore, I was indeed doomed to remain a raven for the rest of my days.

My reverie was broken by Zachary shooing me, encouraging me to take flight. He was right, I should go. At best it would ease his children's hearts if they saw me fly safely away. I crouched then pushed myself up, spreading my wings. It hurt a little at first, but as I ascended, it started to ease. I had been fortunate indeed, the injury had not been critical, but severe enough to have warranted a special healing salve that rendered me unconscious for two days.

I thought it best to fly straight over my house, out of sight from the Newbery twins, for if they thought I was just in the garden next door they would likely wait at the doorway or try see into the garden to see if I was alright. So, I did exactly that but then I perched on the balcony of my study which was out of their view.

I sat and stared inside, trying not to think, for thinking at the moment caused me emotional stress. My eyes eventually registered the fact that my desk was cleared. My heart momentarily sank. Then I saw everything on the floor. Everything that was, except the journal.

Panic! I started to pant, once more my chest was booming with frantic heartbeats. I ran round in circles on the balcony floor, my brain going into overdrive; until I caught sight of my reflection in the glass door. I stopped cold.

This was not helping the situation. I needed to be calm, practical. I looked back inside. Only the desk had been tampered with, nothing else as far as I could see, so I deduced that ruled out any thievery. I also doubted very much Drew and company would have done that the other day. So, was it possible Sarah had done this?

I scurried up onto the roof and checked over the wall to ensure there weren't two pairs of inquisitive eyes watching from next door. It was safe. I flew up and over to the windows that looked into our living room and settled on the sill.

My breath caught in my throat. There, curled up in the armchair was my Sarah and on her lap was the journal. I watched as she seemed absorbed in the book, slowly turning the pages and continuing to read each new segment.

See me, I pleaded, insanely hoping I could reach her telepathically. I ached for her to notice me, to know who I was and instantly realise I was alive. The desire to tap on the window was sorely tempting, but I did not surrender, I couldn't, for I knew not how to convince her.

I saw her clutch at her breast, then wipe tears from her eyes. I even saw her laugh a little after. I took comfort in knowing that she had finally found my testament of love - and the clues I had left behind. I inched to the edge of the sill, just behind the shutter as she closed the book and rose from the chair. Chancing a peek, I saw her place it on the sideboard before she disappeared through the door to the hallway. I heard muffled voices. Had the Newbery's decided to visit now after all?

I took flight once more, passing over the chimney pots and over to the front of the house. I perched on the canopy above the door but quickly scurried out of sight as I saw Drew and the red-haired woman, along with two men who I think I had seen at the Dark Portal. I could not risk them seeing me and repeating their target practice.

I waited until I heard the door close before I hopped over the tiles straining to hear where they were in the house. It was more a case of knowing how Sarah was when guests arrived that I surmised she at least was in the kitchen, no doubt arranging snacks and drinks. I moved over to the canopy above the kitchen window. The voices were low, and I could only make out the odd word or two, but there was no mistaking it was Drew and Sarah who spoke.

A bright flare then emanated through the window along with a steady thrumming. I knew that sight and sound; a portal. I realised then he was saying farewell. Their friendship was incredibly strong and they would always be there for each other, even though their universes were infinitely far apart.

My heart ached at the thought of how alone she would be feeling now. I could visualise her tears and in so doing, I could swear I heard her sob. Then, the signature pop of the portal closing left the house disturbingly quiet.

I sat, feeling utterly helpless. I could not even comfort her. More muffled voices came from within the kitchen. I moved further over the roof. I guessed I was just above where the door opened into the hall from the kitchen.

"It is not Thalassian, it is common language, English, where I come from. Look!" I overheard her say. She was angry. She was arguing!

More talk, but it was … "Sarah, whatever you see within these pages, is a truth intended for you and only you. I cannot see it, but I would ask if I may study this book so that I have a better understanding of its content."

I cawed loud with relief! I had not seen him enter the house, but I recognised that voice. Illidan. And he had seen the journal!

At last! He would need to study it, that I knew, but the possibility that I would be returned to my human self was now very much more a pending certainty.

The only fear remaining - that I would not survive the transformation.