"There is no incurable wound, there is no sinking that cannot be ended, everything that is lost will come back in another way. ”

- John Shores, The Wishing Tree

—Epigraph

A large number of ravens (birds) gathered around him.

"They are my flock, my wicked retribution, my servants, my brothers who eat carrion. Said the god of evil. "They are outwardly identical to Corvus corax or as they are commonly known as ravens. Their behavior is the same as that of most ravens, except that they are more adapted to human existence than ordinary ravens. They will not stay away from humans unless they are visibly intimidated. At the same time, to facilitate their movement, they will perch on top of human heads. Their diet is different from that of ordinary ravens and they prefer meat to grains and seeds. ”

Some ravens follow the silent people, gathering in their houses or workplaces, and at the same time following those people to their destinations. The body of the raven-blessed person begins to transform. Their shoulder blades develop protruding bones, and their skin and muscle tissue grow as the bones lengthen, and the protruding bones continue to grow to form hollow bones that join into bird-like wings. During this time, the wings begin to grow noticeably feathers, and these wings may not grow until later. Metamorphosis is quite painful, and internal injuries around the upper back are common, and when the wing-like appendage is fully grown, they begin to fall asleep and spend a lot of time resting. They continued to lose weight and underwent more physical changes, starting with a sharp atrophy of the spine, then a shrunk of limbs, a reshaping of bones, and finally black feathers covering their entire body, including areas that had not been covered before.

"This is my gift to you, Raven. ”

"And at what cost?"

"Everything, raven, your everything. First your name, then spirit, and finally everything you love. The god of evil paused for a moment, then said to the raven, "From now on, your name is raven." ”

"Can't you call it Jack?" Raven smiled helplessly.

"That's why they're here for you, but they don't recognize you as part of them. He said, "You're not going to join them now." You won't be one of them. You won't be beautiful. I'm still useful for keeping you. ”

Then the ravens began to hover over his head. "Now, let me show you the price. ”

......

She lay in the tub, her toes absentmindedly paddling across the water. She loved her bath. The hot water soothed her, just like she had when she was a child.

She reminisced about the night before.

"Your clothes, ma'am?" The afternoon at the bar, like most days, was peaceful. The exclusivity of the shadow makes it unsuitable for small talk. Serve with a small drink on the leather seat, just like she used to pass the time with library books at the club. Reliable reclusive colleague of the bar

Unspoken rule: Don't engage in useless conversations.

"Want to talk?" a innocuous little question to make sure nothing goes wrong. Feel free to answer or ignore.

"How are you feeling today?" is a strange question that often comes up in a bar. She has seen all kinds of gentlemen, with all kinds of abilities. They all work in different industries, so there's no reason to come into contact with each other. This question has always been out of place. Useless. Shadow has many identities, but is not a refuge for waste. The gentlemen take a short, blunt reply, and that's it. She went back to her book and looked up again, making sure the man hadn't returned.

"Any news?" another member asked. Another uncomfortable thing. A snort in response made the guy turn away.

"Pleasant day, huh?" Sitting in a high-backed chair, goosebumps crawled down her neck and down her spine. A strange inquiry may be an anomaly. The numerous questions she received throughout the evening were a pattern. a message. The conversation took place in a bar, for sure. Business is often discussed, and partners share jokes with each other. But it's rare to invade privacy with friendly banter. It's insignificant. There are other such places outside of the club.

Places she frequents. Occasionally.

"Can you tell me what's going on there?" a humble question, she thought at the time. A chance to show off, maybe. She's proud. I've always been proud. The history of her family. Her wealth. Her membership. All that was before she entered this world. All things that she did not earn herself, but which she had the privilege of enjoying. Maybe if she had gotten it on her own, she would have understood the gravity of the responsibility. A lot of the time she spent was embodied in this, and it was too late. His understanding now is that things outside the bar are rarely outside the reach of the bar. These two concepts are mutually exclusive. He understands now. Well, it does.

She felt like writing in her journal was another way of apologizing, sitting at her desk in the study. She doubted it was still that morning.

"Your bill, ma'am?" the hostess also gave her a question that she didn't often hear. Membership, of course, obligations, currency and others. Fundraising, investment, experienced staff. Members give to them, and in return the bar gives itself. Drinks are charged, like a regular bar? Guests are at their own expense, and they are non-members. She placed the leather-covered sticky note book on the arm of her chair. She took a moment to fill it out and let her guard down. Opening it reveals a note with his drink bill handwritten on it. Everyone was watching her. It was very quiet now, but she hadn't realized it yet, not yet.

"Excuse me?" she asked, with a great effort through her throat. The waitress responded with a smile. This means that her lips are upturned, but there is no warmth in her movements. It's a parody of a smile, more like, a rough description of who is relaying. This is also a piece of news.

A small folded white towel sits by the bathtub on which her grandfather's razor lies. It had beautiful pearl handles, and many times she had been watching with longing as her father used it to shave, and she herself used it more. She recalls sitting on the toilet and watching her father use it to shave. Her feet were swaying, not yet fully reaching the ground. Her father used a towel on his shoulder to wipe the razor before the blade reached his throat. She closed her eyes and listened to the voices in her memory, and memories of her father began. Nothing serious, just a little blood. She opened her eyes and looked at the same razor that lay on the towel. She reached out, her trembling fingers rubbing the hilt of the knife. Startled by its touch, she withdrew her hand and put it on her knees in the water.

"There's no reason to apologize, ma'am. She told her, leaning closely. "You're going to do the right thing, I'm sure. Then she left her, perhaps to fulfill her other duties. Around her, business continued, and gentlemen began to read their books and newspapers again. A lady ordered a drink. She had been—as her mother used to say, 'very, very clear' why it was so quiet. As soon as the bar's silence was restored, she understood what was happening. What it means. The hostess's statement may well be the answer she gets. You don't make small talk. Fulfillment of obligations by members. Breach of obligations is punishable. The punishment for the shadow is quite ...... Stern.

She will do the right thing. She will do the right thing. If she's lucky, she'll have to do it once. If she had been very, very lucky, the land would not have been salinized out of malice. She looked at the towel and the razor lying on it again. She reached out and grabbed the razor, using her thumb to remove the blade.

"You say shadows, can you tell me, what's going on there?" For her, this is the most important question of her life.

She felt cold, not feeling the comfort of her warm embrace in the shower. She lifted her foot and, as she had done back then, turned off the trickling hot water. She remembered the time she spent her childhood lying in this bathtub, turning the tap on and off with her toes. She remembered all the times she wouldn't have done it.

In this moment of loneliness, happiness, her mind went blank. Her gaze was intently aimless, dazed. The moment passed quietly. She was sad to see it go.

Taking a deep breath, she lay down in the tub and submerged herself. In her hands, throwing a razor. Holding it made her suddenly feel a strange sense of comfort. Things always get bad.

But she did the right thing.

......

Crodia is dead.

Raven knew it would happen sooner or later - which was why her mother objected to her entanglement with him, and it turned out that she seemed right. Even though the romantic vision of the two's future has begun to fade, she has been worried about his safety. Clothes, shoes, expensive perfumes, all of them have an invisible asterisk that seems to hang over Crodia every time he meets him.

This was the end, she thought to herself, holding his last letter in her hand. In the empty house, only the faint hum of the air conditioner broke the silence. Raven wishes Crodia wouldn't be ...... Exaggerated and contrived. Does he have to rely on this silly letter to miss her?

"I still remember the little quarrels, the frustration over where to put the furniture and what to name the child in the future. ”

Crodia has always had a habit of glorifying the past. She had never thought of having children, they had had had countless arguments over the subject, and when he decided to make their relationship eternal, she was worried about the future, and that was just one of many reasons. Probably it doesn't matter now......

"I worked hard to get this ring in the envelope. Please, put it on. In this way, we are together, no matter how far apart we are. ”

And he never seemed to be able to pull his mind out of the cheap store romances, and he had an inexplicable soft spot for it. A wedding ring may mean something to a widow who has been widowed for many years, but it doesn't make sense to wear it without the weight of the long years tied to it. It is very beautiful and expensive, but her earrings are the same.

"Will you marry a dead man?"

I can't, you romantic fool. But am I willing?

She couldn't tell......

It's finally done.

When he had just moved from the plane where the shadow was to the small pocket dimension created by the rings, he had feared what would happen if she came to see him before the house he had spent years building was completed. After all, it took him a long time to get used to it when he woke up in the middle of a clearing full of construction tools after he died. The shadow who sold his ring promised him that what he feared would not happen - "time will stand still until the ring wearer's residence is completed", which were his exact words - but despite this, he could not dispel the fear from his mind.

Now, however, the question is moot. The house was simple, made of stone and thatch, but it protected his lover from the elements and kept them warm on the dark days of winter, much warmer than his tent. He sealed the last stone on the surface of the cement slurry and, marveling at his ability, accomplished this feat alone. He took a few steps back and chanted the incantation that the mysterious woman who played with magic had told him so long ago.

"A house of stones, built with love,

"Above the heavens, listen to me.

"Give me love, and turn a house into a house,

"Stay alone together, and be in harmony forever. ”

He walked back into the room, took a deep breath and opened the front door.

Beautiful. Mahogany bookshelves stand beside the fireplace he has dug out in the wall, flanked by an elaborate set of home chairs. The queen bed that appeared at the other end was clearly the size of two people, and after living outdoors for so long, the bed was no less alluring than anything he had ever seen in his life. The kitchen was primitive, but enough for Raven to make delicious meals. And himself, he remembered that he had promised her that he would learn to cook.

He pulled a random book from the bookshelf and sat down in a chair. The working hours began, lasted for a long time, and finally ended. Now, the place he had worked tirelessly for so long was ready to welcome the love of his life.

Now it's time to wait......

"Five hundred suss. ”

The pawn shop owner stared at Crodia suspiciously, assuming that it was an ignorant woman who was counting on a small profit. His luck was not good, and Crodia raised the offer to six hundred suss in response.

"Six hundred? This ring is good, but I've seen a better one. At the same time, my gut tells me that you are in a hurry to get it out. ”

She shifted uneasily, quickly unloading her negotiating aura in hopes of seeking sympathy instead. "It's mine...... Partner's. Before he died, he was about to propose to me. ”

"Really? were you going to say yes?"

"I'm sorry, I guess it has nothing to do with you. ”

"That's a refusal. He toyed with the ring instead, as if flipping it between his fingers would raise its value. "Let me tell you that. You're a good girl, so I'm willing to pay five hundred and fifty. No more suss will work. ”

"Okay. She pulled her Pamir crystal card out of her purse and tried to slip it into the card reader, only to see a bright red "X" light up on the screen, and realized that she was fast.

"Don't worry, it's not a game. Give me a minute to get it right. She gazed at the ring for the last time while he was busy. What would Raven think if he knew what she was doing, and why did this little thing make her sit on the edge so much that she had to take it for granted?

"It reminds you of that person, doesn't it?" the pawnshop owner interrupted her stream of consciousness once more. "I understand. I have a friend whose fiancée passed away shortly after he threw out his marriage proposal. For more than a decade, he was obsessed with that damn ring. ”

"More than that," she replied. With the man's nod in confirmation, she placed the card into the reader again. "He also wrote a stupid letter before he died, mentioning what we will be together forever thanks to this ring. For some reason, the ring seemed to be a fragment of him. ”

"It's just a fantasy in your head. As they say, you can't bear the burden. ”......

She's not coming.

He had finished reading the last book on the shelves in the second row. In his mind, the passage of time has long since ceased to be coherent. Time twists and turns, overlapping each other, and he's been waiting for Crodia. He didn't want to admit the truth he had grown so scared of, but the last book had been read through—Homer's Odyssey—and it heralded his end.

After a period of uncertainty and pain, he made a promise to himself. He's going to read every book on the shelves, but he'll put Odyssey last. Like Penelope waiting for Odysseus, he would have waited for Pam in the silence of the hut, in the comforting softness of the eternal spring in the pocket dimension. The trees outside his house became his suitors, calling him to lose himself in the midst of their embrace, but his heart commanded him to stay where he was.

However, the last page of the book is closed. Peace is ushered in by Ithaca, and Penelope and Odysseus are reunited. And he sat alone.

"I'm sorry, Crodia," he shouted to the empty surroundings, "I can't wait any longer." ”

He stepped out the front door and closed it behind him. He took one last look at his meaningless creation, and felt tears roll down his cheeks.

All she had to do was put on that ring.