Ravenlord: Episode Five

The Ravenlord Returns

 By Amanda R. Hamlin 

--continued from episode four “The Hill”--

The room was dark, only the faint glow of street the lamp down the block filtering dimly through the shifting leaves outside the window, so she could barely see to begin with but, beyond that, her eyes were mostly screwed tight or unfocused beyond comprehension by the waves of elation surging within her.  But, though she could not see, she could feel with excruciating clarity and what she felt surpassed her wildest dreams.  In addition to his inky rivers of hair, tracing and tickling across her skin, she could feel curved, hard, cold talons against her and the wind and then the razor keen, down soft brush of beating wings.  

            When all was done, she lay blind and paralyzed, her brain whirling to catch up to where the rest of her body had been swept away to.  There was a click in the darkness and a pool of slightly yellow light appeared as the nightlight was switched on, casting its glow on Garritt's face, his cheeks flushed, hair snarled, eyes still a little bit wild.  

            “How did you know?” she whispered, still partially stunned, as she rolled onto her side to regard him with dreamy eyes.  

            He shrugged.  “I just knew.  I don't know how but, something told me.  Besides,” he looked at her and the corner of his mouth twisted in a half smile, “there wasn't much to know.  Once I stared, your responses told me everything.”

            She sat up slowly and gingerly, shaking her head as if to clear it.  “I thought you were raiding tonight,” she mumbled muzzily.

            “Still am.  Raiding doesn't start until eight, you know.”

            “Oh,” she said, disappointed, as she glanced over at the clock on the nightstand.  “You need to go soon then.”

            “Yes, but don't worry,” he added quickly, seeing the disappointment in her face.  “This isn't the last time.”

            “Then you liked it too?” she cried, greedy for reassurance.  

            “Of course I did.  Though our weary grind may last day after day, seeming endless, when the days turn towards winter, the Ravenlord will always return.”

            “And I will always be waiting for him.”  With a deep sigh, she collapsed into his arms, and he held her close for a moment before getting up to go.  Later, much later, when the dizzying high had finally retreated, at least to the point where some form of rational thought was possible, she wondered what had really happened.  Had Garritt actually been possessed by the spirit of the Ravenlord, morphed in the hybrid creature able to stimulate her with claws and feathers?  Or was there a more realistic, if not a simpler, explanation?  He could have snooped in an old diary of hers, a diary so old even she and forgotten where it was, and then decked himself out with two full sets of Goth metal finger sheaths and some feather construction shaped like a wing.  But that would have taken time and it wasn't like Garritt to plan something that intricate yet never show a flicker of interest. 

            And where would he hide the stuff?  In the days and weeks that followed, Julia poked around all over the house, especially in the basement and the garage, but she never found anything.  Garritt could be sneaky but, if this was a trick, it was in incredibly well executed one, that deserved a compliment.  But she knew him well enough to know he would never admit the trick, if trick it was, unless caught red handed.  

            In the end, it didn't matter how it had happened, only that it had.  Julia's age-old dream had come true in a way she could never have imagined.  That joy alone should be enough.  Why look a gift raven in the beak?  She still had weary days of work and bill paying, lonely nights during raids but, in spite of this, the heart pounding rush of being abducted by the Ravenlord, even just dreaming about it, kept a part of her firmly rooted in fantasy and the fantastic.  With her desire and her imagination, the color had come back into the world.  The rolling of the bells, the croaking of the birds, could make her shudder to her core and just thinking of what could be waiting for her when she reached home was like a flash of lightning down her spine.  True, she didn't get a visit from the Ravenlord every night, sometimes not even once in a month.  But, even if it were only a certain look Garritt would shoot her out of the corner of his eyes as he disappeared into his study to raid, she was never without a sign that she had not been forsaken

--end of story--

Key words: Raid, Raven, Warcraft, Romance, Dream, Talons

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Copyright.  Amanda R. Hamlin

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 Cover art by Eric Hamlin

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