Chapter Two

We met each other quite often, even when our schedules were quite skewed. That was two years past and a lost purse put that in motion. Our paths have not drifted apart since then, and since, there were a few happenings that occurred, as we managed to find another to add to our assortment of friends. His name was Miles Creed and we managed to find him through our workings in our college library.

Though my loneliness dissipated, at least slightly, my thoughts turned to my past, how I got here to this place the desire to get away from the ordinary and how I managed to come to this prestigious school. In my eyes, my life was still ordinary and bland. A prestigious school didn't change that. As a child, I would dream up invigorating lives I could live as an adult that never came to fruition. For a child, whose mother was a spinster and whose father was a shoemaker, I saw the hopeless vacancy of their lives even after hours of work gone by and the pursuit of money and work seemed to toggle around in their mind even in the comfort of their homes. My heart quivered for their sakes, and when I was in my bed, I would cry with staunch fear of how I would end up. But still, it is a life that has kept them going and each other they loved deeply. Perhaps there is value in the comfort and love of another.

Below the library, I could hear the orchestra practice for the fifth time, playing a little bit more pleasantly each time they played, so my spirits were lifted. Around me, there are students quietly sitting and writing in their journals or reading a book. We usually check students out a book or something they specifically need for a class such as a physically crafted diagram or maybe skeleton for sciences, but it was a particularly slow day, what with the rainy weather and the lurking evening, we all pretty much lazed about until school ended and we shut everything down in the room.

We all stayed back a bit, holding conversation until all the students made their way off the premises, darting one way or another, catching a carriage to the pub no doubt. We'd all be going there I supposed.

As we exited the school, Miles asked us about our plans for the night.

"I have to be lectured by mother for doing work in a library instead of looking for paramours," Margery replied.

"So…. nothing" Miles replied and then chuckled. Then he turned to me.

"You have anything to do Vanity?"

"Oh…. no. Nothing to do at all really." I stated rather matter of factly.

"Well… would you two gals be opposed to going to the bar tonight?"

"It's where everyone goes on Friday. That's where we go every Friday, Miles. You don't need to ask every time."

Miles gave a cheeky grin, and we knew he felt happy at the idea of finally being able to be free to go to the bar after a long week of work. He ran off to grab a carriage near us and when the said carriage stopped, the driver opened the door for all three of us to get in after we pitched in our funds for it, with Margery paying the bulk of it on her own accord.

So, we got inside, in the escape of freezing winter rain, and found comfort and warmth with the inside of the carriage and the bodies of each other radiating warmth. I rested against Miles particularly because of the bulky body her had and was quite big, though he had a gentle and babyish softness to his face. It was dark and the moon was brimming over in the sky with light. With Margery's head against my shoulder, I began to fall asleep, with my eyes closing and shutting tight. I was on my way to deep sleep when I heard the rumbling voice of Miles ask, "Do you two believe in the supernatural?"

It was with masterful intrigue that I sat upright and looked at Margery, who seemed also caught off guard.

"Huh?" I trembled. The hooves stamped on the ground in an echo. It didn't help my feeling of suspense.

"The supernatural. Do you believe in it or since you're more of a non-believer, are you more skeptical of these things?"

"Well, I believe in it, if that counts for something." Margery piped up with a pleasant quietness.

"Are we talking ghosts and spirits here?" I questioned with interest.

"Far beyond that. I mean things that are fairies and fae, demons, gods, immortal beings given immunity by even death itself."

I could see his eyes glazing over, as if in a memory that was begging to be unlocked needed to come out and spill from him.

Margery reached over and put a hand on his hand.

"Are you alright Miles?" asked Margery delicately.

There was an uneasy silence from him.

"I've been friends with both of you for about a year now. If I tell you this story with full confidence and confide in you two, will you promise not to judge me?"

I've never seen him this vulnerable, and while I was skeptical, I nodded my head while Margery gave a small smile and a "Of course".

He sighed before saying anything.

"When I was a child, it was just my mother and me home after my father would leave late at night for work. After he left, she told me the story of the Night Raven. Ever heard of it?"

I shook my head and a small "no" made it out my mouth. My parents were very religious, so it would have never made it into my mind as a child.

"Can't say I have." Margery spoke.

"I see." He moved on. "Anyways, my mother told me of an evil raven that came by at night for a boy or a girl that it chooses. It would perch on the window…watch you sleep and take control of your sleep so that you would twist and turn with dread. Then he would eat you, bones and all."

The deep cadence he told it in already set me off and made me fear. But what am I fearing if I don't believe in such things?

"Anyways, after she sent me to sleep, I wiggled and tossed through my sleep, though eventually, I slept in deep darkness. Well, I figured that the story must not have been true. Then a notable shadow fell across the room despite it being a bright night from the stars." He took a breath, and I was practically hanging from his every word.

"I happened to open my eyes and found the ghastly face of the Night Raven, only he was more humanoid looking than animal-like. His eyes were wide with pure redness and tiny pen pupils. His wings were large and could cover my entire body if it wanted to. A long sharp talon made its way onto my face. Then…his other talons hung still to my face and drew blood." He closed his eyes, and I could see his face crumble.

"A long tongue whipped around my neck, crushing my throat. I could feel the saliva leaking through and on my clothes. Mother wasn't the word protruding from my lips. It was the name of Mathilda. 'Mathilda! Say it three times and it'll set you free.' The voice said. Through the breaking of my cords and what strength I could find, I spoke 'Mathilda'. The thing looked taken aback. I said it once more. But then it covered my mouth with its palms, and no more could I speak nor breathe."

"'You're almost there' said a voice, ringing and clear. So through leaving breaths and a muffled voice I said 'Mathilda! Mathilda!' but nothing had happened. So, watching with wide and horrified eyes, his many rows of teeth stretched and drove closer and closer to my head…. until…until…I felt him being lifted, and myself being lifted too."

His eyes seemed to hold the same astonishment he had as a boy.

"I looked around and saw the beautiful hue of a fairy with a blue sparkling dress holding me by the shirttail. 'I almost didn't catch you. That wouldn't have been great, but now I've got you." And she gently smiled and put me down. I saw the Raven being held up by another fairy with the same beautiful dark hue."

"Now Miles, go to sleep. I will make sure you are clean, and your scrapes and injuries are gone. But it'd do you well to never think about this anymore.' Then she waved her wand around and said an incantation. Suddenly the feeling of health and healing wavered over me and my throat was free, and I was clean. I fell back into a deep sleep."

Suddenly we heard the voice of the driver telling us we are gaining close to the pub.

"As you can see, I didn't forget the ordeal and I don't think I ever will." He finished.

We couldn't even sit in silence to think over the questions that needed to be asked or even process the story. Just as he finished, the driver announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, you have arrived. Take it easy now. Don't get too drunk."

"We promise sir," Margery noted. I was quiet but gave a small smile to be polite.

We step outside into the rain, where everyone seems to be walking in leisure, we rush through to get our minds off that story. As the cheer and noise of the bar began to drive out the thoughts of the story in the carriage ride, my surface joy began to spread. However, there were thoughts seeking closure at the back of my head. Was the story horrifying because it was such a well-told story or was it because I knew better? I shake the thoughts off once again, practically flinging myself into the idea of drinking.