Chapter 2: Awakening

He wasn't where he was supposed to be.

"Diaval."

It began to astound her, the myriad ways in which she called his name. At first it was just her accustomed expectation that he would be there when she called. It was not often in seventeen years that she had needed to call twice.

Lately she hadn't needed to call at all. And when had that started? Had she spoken his name aloud, except to introduce him to others, in years? When had she last addressed him by name?

Had he ever addressed her?

"Mistress."

After Maleficent's shoulders had become two massive wounds she was forced to endure with every step, Diaval's subservience had felt like the staff she leaned on, the title he had chosen a balm to her dignity. It had been satisfying to feel that she was still in control of something after Stefan had grounded her, even if it was just a raven.

But Diaval was much more than just a raven, now.

"Diaval!"

She had awoken just after sunset. When he failed to appear after she twice called his name, her voice became demanding. He was not in any of the rooms of their castle ruins, nor in the surrounding trees. How dare he hide? He had been impertinent before, but never outright defiant. Could he have gone on an errand? His errands had become her errands, though, and it was not often they went anywhere alone anymore. His absence was beginning to be irritating, and every space he was not in began to be empty.

She now strode with purpose through the nighted woods, her eyes seeking him on every possible perch, her magic seeping from her in slow curls that caressed the trees and asked after her raven.

No raven, the trees answered. No raven here, not today, not now.

She came to the edge of the Moor and looked across the fields to the castle, straining to see, if she could, inside the windows. From this distance she could only make out anonymous human forms passing before the torches that lit the castle halls. None could be Diaval. Maleficent had left him in his raven form since yesterday's glorious flight.

All the birds flying about the human fortress were too small to be a raven. And their flapping was with the simple aims of birds, lacking the intelligent purpose Diaval had in every tiny gesture.

The first time she had ever seen him flashed unbidden into her mind. Her back had still been bleeding from her violation, the pain emanating from her wing stumps throbbing through her whole body. He had perched next to her, all glossy feathers and light-as-air movement, regarding her with those perceptive raven eyes.

"Are you okay?" he had cawed.

The simple question from this creature, who lived the life of flight that had just been stolen from her, had frustrated her so much that her only answer had been a glare and a puff of magic to shoo him out of her presence. She hoped now she had not stung him too badly. She had even felt a pinch of guilt back then, and so had followed him to that fateful wheatfield. Perhaps now she was glad she had stung him.

What relief she would feel now if he were to alight by her side as usual and ask her the same.

"Diaval!" she screamed across the fields, hearing her echo bounce off the hard castle walls, then, faint and distorted, off the hills beyond. The trees behind her swallowed her voice.

But Maleficent knew by now her calling aloud was in vain. She spared a thought for the faeries in the Moor, and even the humans in their kingdom, to whom she had just advertised that she was missing her servant. Maleficent knew the power of her name, and Diaval's too. Their fame had surpassed all others' ever since she had adopted her title of Protector of the Moor, and him shortly after. Every creature from one end of Aurora's domain to the other would now know in hours that she and her raven were separated, unless she found him or Diaval returned on his own.

The betrayal rose from her toes up through her head and made her dizzy, even unto her horns, which began to ache with dull pain. Not since her violation had she felt such treachery. Without a word he had left, without a trace he was gone, and without him Maleficent felt halved.

Her magic began, as always, to follow her emotions, and abandoning discretion as futile, she allowed her power to spike into the air. It shot up in a green-yellow column, crackling like lightning, then bent down over itself hundreds of feet in the air. It folded into itself, stretching and contracting, until it formed into an immense, glowing image of a raven. Of Diaval.

Following her will, it flapped in great, slow motions until it faced her. How like and how unlike him this creation looked, bright where he was dark, wispy-edged where his silhouette was well-defined, an unthinking incarnation of her will where he was a willing, intelligent assistant. This yellow, translucent raven stared at her with glowing, thoughtless eyes, patiently hovering as it awaited her command.

"Find him," Maleficent growled.

The magic flapped once and collapsed its shape as it shot into the sky, arching over the forest and toward the horizon like a shooting star.

"Godmother?"

Maleficent tensed and shot a glance over her shoulder at Aurora hesitating at the treeline a few yards back. The faerie's imagination replaced the young, bright queen with her dark, smirking man for an instant and Maleficent squeezed her eyes shut.

After a second, Maleficent felt Aurora's cool, soft fingers on the hand that hung loosely at her side. The faerie's right hand clutched her staff with white knuckles.

"He's really gone?" the young queen murmured.

Maleficent opened her eyes and looked into her Beastie's worried face. She had to be strong for her goddaughter. She swallowed, and nodded.

Aurora gave her a wavering smile. "We will find him," she said, and not for the first time, Maleficent silently thanked Flittle for her gift of eternal happiness to Aurora. The silliest of the fairies may well have given the queen the most valuable gift.

Aurora led Maleficent by the hand back into the woods, somehow knowing that the older female should not be alone right now. Just before the trees covered them, Maleficent looked up into the sky once more, unable to stop herself from whispering one more plea. "Diaval."

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