Corvus’ sleep was deep and fast, passing in an instant. He awoke with the dawn sun shining down and Cleo already awake and ready to go. They set off shortly after, still chewing on the salted rations of the knight that so generously donated his gauntlet to Corvus. Cleo was counting the few coins that the thief had, storing his knife in one of her many concealed knife sheathes.

According to Cleo, the King’s knights often use a road that was fairly close to their alternative route to transport rations and replacement arms and armour for their northern outposts. It was also a common haven for bandits and thieves looking for a quick fix of crime by ransacking the merchants that were traveling north.

“You seem to know your way around the law.” Corvus raised an eyebrow at her as he hopped over a small stream hidden by the long grass.

“I had a past too, you know.” She shrugged, not meeting his gaze.

“What was it like?” Corvus glanced at her. He instantly regretted asking from the dark shadows that played under her eyes.

“Hard.” Her tone was final and steeped in anguish.

“Fair enough. I suppose the law is strict in Cindrea. Why did you leave?”

“Exactly as you said. The law is strict.” Her green eyes were stormy.

Corvus realised that if he wanted to stay alive for long enough to take his next breath, he should probably not keep pressing something she’s clearly not comfortable with. He looked straight forward and chose not to look in her direction to avoid another stern talking to.

‘I seem to be a magnet for lectures. And torn clothes for that matter.’ Corvus mused as he fell into a lazy pattern of footsteps. Cleo sighed beside him, a tone of defeat in her voice.

“I guess this is a better time than any.” Her voice was almost sad.

“What is?” Corvus turned and locked his gaze with hers. Her green eyes were usually guarded and wary of her surroundings, even when she was explaining magic or chuckling at Corvus’ strange mannerisms. But now they weren't. They were unfocused, tired, even vulnerable. It was such a surprise that Corvus stopped in his tracks and stared, wide eyed.

“What’s that look for?” She raised an eyebrow at him, a spark of her usual fire returning.

“Sorry. You almost looked normal for a moment so I got surprised.” Corvus bowed a small apology.

Cleo chuckled slightly, some heart returning to her voice.

“Like you can talk. I’m not even sure you’re human!” She laughed behind her hand. She removed her hand and her face went serious again, but her eyes were hers again. “Listen. There are a few things I need you to know before we arrive at my home.”

“Unfriendly cat? Wait, no. That’s your tiger.” Corvus scratched his head trying to think of things that he would need warned about.

“N-no. I need to tell you about—”. She began, stumbling over her words in her confusion about where the conversation was going.

“Maybe a guard dog? No, that doesn’t fit.”

“No, it’s—”

“Controlling parents?”

“Let me—”

“Familial issues?”

“Stop interrupting—”

“Embarrassing siblings?”

“Corvus—”

“Secret inter-family relationship?”

“CORVUS!” Her face was bright with either embarrassment or irritation, Corvus couldn’t tell.

“Yes?” Corvus asked, tilting his head.

“Stop. Interrupting. Me.” She spoke slowly and surely, like a scolding mother.

Corvus nodded, giving a thumbs up.

Cleo breathed, composing herself for the speech that she was about to make before Corvus’ spiel about unrealistic home issues.

“When we get there, you’ll get a room to yourself and then meet the others who are there to learn, the same as you. They’re all 18 or there about, so you’ll be the youngest. You’ll want to get to know them, they’re going to be the only real friends you’ve got. If they provoke you into a fight or to do something that would cause trouble, say no. It’s not worth the hassle.

“You’ll want to keep in your class, don’t try to meld with the older years or the instructors. That includes me. Speaking of which,” She looked around, as if nervous about being overheard. “Do not, and I mean Do Not act like we know each other any better than acquaintances. If you see me, don’t wave, don’t say hello, just nod and move on, same with the rest of the instructors and other classes.” Her voice was hard and certain.

Corvus could only stare. Why would she ask something like that? What exactly would happen to them if he acted friendly with her? What exactly was he going into?

“What—” Corvus began asking the first of his many questions.

“Just, please.” Cleo interrupted him, holding up her hand and lowering her eyes. Corvus could’ve sworn that he heard her voice quivering, but from the hard look on her face made that impossible for him to believe. “Just…promise me. Promise that you’ll stay out of trouble and, if push comes to shove, protect your friends and forget about me.” Her gaze was dark.

“Nope.” Corvus spoke without thinking.

“What?” Cleo’s eyes glinted with angry surprise. “Why?”

“I can promise to do everything you said, but I’ll never promise to leave you behind.”

“You won’t always have a choice!” Her dark skin was burning with forced anger.

“Then I’ll come back.” Corvus kept his steely eyes level and measured, trying to diffuse her anger.

“Why? Why do you always have to be so difficult?” Her voice was shaky and she turned her eyes away to take a few deep breaths. Corvus extended his hand, taking her by surprise.

“What?” She asked through reddening eyes.

“I can agree to making friends. I can agree to protecting them. I can even agree to treating you like someone I don’t know. But don’t you dare make you the exception.” Corvus was almost surprised by his own words. He didn’t know where the deep echoes of anger came from, but they came hard and strong. The emptiness in his heart was momentarily filled by something. Something warm.

“We’re friends after all.” Corvus declared, a flicker of a smile ghosting his lips.

Cleo stood perfectly still, eyes wide and almost teary. She burst into laughter, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand you, Corvus.” She chuckled, taking his hand and shaking it, sealing their deal.

They stood still for a moment, revelling in their friendship. Corvus broke that atmosphere, albeit un-intentionally.

“I never did get an answer about why you cry so much.” Corvus said to himself.

Cleo dropped her hand, blushing slightly and lightly slapping Corvus on the top of the head. There was no malice behind it but there was a warning not to quiz her about it again.

She started walking again, teasingly pushing past Corvus. He raised an eyebrow and followed her.

They were a few feet away from a gmail grassy hill that obscured the horizon. They started walking up, and it was a lot steeper than it had first looked. It turned from a small incline into a near vertical surface in seconds. Corvus was confused but began scaling the hill.

He kept getting further and further from the top, the getting steeper and steeper, eventually so much that Corvus was hanging upside down above the sky. The top of the hill seemed miles and miles away and only got further with each step. Each step forward felt like hours, the sun constantly beating down on him from above, but never moving. The loose grass provided solid, if not exactly confidant handholds to continue.

A thought crossed Corvus’ mind. He looked around, but Cleo was nowhere to be found.

‘Oh. That’s not good.’ Corvus raised an eyebrow at the ground that he was hanging from. He glanced around, looking for something to give him a clue as to what the hell was going on. There was nothing he could see that told him much. He pulled at the loose pieces of grass that he was hanging from. They didn’t seem as loose as they looked. Corvus pulled a knife from his belt and tried to cut one free. It didn’t even mark the surface.

Corvus put two and two together and re-sheathed the knife. He wasn’t climbing up a reverse mountain or an inverted hill at all. It was an illusion.

“Only one thing for it.” Corvus sighed.

He let go, plummeting towards the sky.

Seconds later, he was flat on his back on the top of the hill. Cleo came into view, looking down on him with a slightly surprised but teasing grin.

“Not bad. Thought I might have to wake you up.” She chuckled, offering him a hand.

“Really? How long was I…climbing, I guess?” Corvus took the hand and allowed himself to be pulled upwards.

“Just about an hour. Most people take two on their first time.”

“I’m guessing it’s a defence? Or is it just a joke?”

Cleo shrugged.

“A bit of both, to be honest.” She turned around, and her expression fell slightly. “Look. We’re here.”

Corvus followed her gaze, expecting to see a small house or a town maybe. Instead, is was a giant, dark forest full of thorns and twisted, black trunks. The vines that spanned the close-knit trees were withered and suffocated by the dank air that breathed out of the gaps like plumes of ash.

There were several paths that Corvus could spot, each with its own string of black lettering hanging loosely in the air. They all had small symbols hidden beneath them, whirring expectedly, as if itching to be used.

“That’s not ominous at all.” Corvus noted, glancing at Cleo.

“I do believe that’s the point.” Cleo sighed, walking towards the closest entrance.

Corvus followed closely behind her, squinting at the letters that hung over the entrance. He couldn’t make it out exactly, but he caught something about icicles, bolts of lightning and a very painful death. He glanced over at Cleo, who was making an irritated face and muttering about too many defences and how they were a pain.

She changed direction, walking towards one of the many solid barriers of thorns and vines. She started writing a sentence of inky black letters, taking a few seconds to think of which one to write next. After several seconds of careful consideration, she sent the completed sentence floating towards the spiny black trees. They seeped into the bark, blowing the layer of crust from the old plants.

They began to contort and writhe, as if trying to escape the magical sentence. It turns out they were. A small, spiny tunnel had formed in the impassable wall, no larger than 3 feet across. Cleo glanced back to Corvus and raised an eyebrow.

“Hope you don’t mind a bit of crawling.”

Corvus glanced down to his gauntleted hand, hesitant, but nodded to her all the same. She reached into her small pack and pulled out a pair of thick leather gloves. After she had put them on, she pulled her pack off and threw it into the tunnel and climbed in after it. After a few seconds,

Corvus undid his own and threw it in as well. He took a breath and climbed in after her.

It was a difficult crawl with uneven floors, tight corners, spines and gaps every other foot. The worse part though, was the dark. The entrance had sealed up moments after Corvus had crawled in, plunging both him and Cleo into an abyssal black.

There was no way to get lost, but there was no way to know how far they’d come and how far was left. There was no conversation between them, and no sound other than the occasional curse from Cleo spiking herself on a thorn and Corvus making a complaint about her language. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, it could have been days.

Corvus was snapped out of his boredom when he heard Cleo thump to the ground at the end of the tunnel. He crawled faster and it finally widened into something that didn’t feel as claustrophobic as a ship’s hold filled with barrels of water. He kept hold of his pack and swung his legs over the edge of the dark tunnel and let himself fall. He reached the ground several feet below him, landing in a pile of broken twigs.

Cleo was brushing the thorn tips from her gear and smiled at him.

“Fun, right?” She shrugged a small apology.

Corvus wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were fixed on the gentle, flashing green lights that fluttered around them, illuminating their path forward. He held up his left hand and one sailed down slowly to his finger. At first Corvus thought it was a beetle, but its face looked like more feline than anything. It even had fur and a tail.

“You like them? They’re called felias.” Cleo smiled at them.

It made an almost inaudible purr before taking flight again, joining the rest of the dancing lights.

Cleo led the way forward, following the trail of green lights and occasionally petting one that landed on her shoulder. Corvus was fascinated by the path of black trees and green lights, not even looking where he was going.

Cleo held up her arm to stop him. He looked at her, slightly confused, before he looked ahead of himself and saw the ruined town. There were maybe ten buildings still half standing, many more that weren’t. In the centre of it, there was a white, shining willow tree that looked as if it would snap at the slightest touch. Cleo glanced at Corvus apologetically.

“Hold on, I need a minute or two.” She sat on the ground, cross legged, taking deep breaths. Every breath she took, some tension left her body and her face changed slightly. Not to the point that she looked like a different person, but just enough to realise that there was obviously someone else at the reigns. When she opened her eyes though, Corvus could tell it was still her, but different.

“Lets go.” Her voice was less cheerful, harder, serious. She walked forward with purpose that anyone would flinch from. Corvus followed her, finding that she was harder t keep up with than before. Harder. Harder.

Only then did Corvus notice that it wasn’t her that was walking fast, but him that was walking slow. He had no strength. His legs were shaking beneath him. His right hand felt as if it was pulling him down. He collapsed, right hand clutched to his chest. Purple smoke billowed out from under the gauntlet, and the metal started to blacken. The felias in the air started buzzing frantically, hissing at him.

His breaths became gasps as his hand burst into violet flames for a moment before pulling itself to the ground. He looked around for something to stop the fire, something to stop the weakness. Cleo was running towards him. His vision darkened, the world blurred and he fell backwards, staring at the dark canopy. His eyes met those of a perching crow, its black eyes staring into his.

Corvus used the last of his strength to raise his left hand to the crow, begging for relief. The crow tilted its head. It opened its mouth, but no caw followed, instead a voice.

“Sleep, child.”

The world left Corvus and he vanished into the abyss of deep sleep.