Old Crow sipped the last drops of the tea, his heart beating with excitement. It was not quite as strong as he would have liked but he had to ration his last 3 portions. One he had just finished, the next one for after dusk, and the last at dawn. His stash had run out in the past month. That being said he returned to work as yet another real crow flew in through the opened window. 8 others were already on the table. Not quite dead but… comatose. And next to them was a small flask.

What he was doing was not technically magic. He just beckoned the crow closer and grasped its soul with his hand. That was actually the distinction between animals and monsters: Animals had souls while monsters did not. A crow in particular had an overly large soul. So much so that their brain could actually not use it to half the full potential. Normally just a bit of trivia, maybe something to study. Except it made them exceptionally suitable for possession, the souls large enough to accommodate more yet relatively little will to fight domination, or they were very useful if one was refining essence.

Many, perhaps even most places in the world, would have condemned what he was doing as necromancy and hunted him as a lynch mob. The Duchy Federation was no such place. Say what you will about their mage-cratic upper classes, systematic discrimination or unchecked autocratic governments, the Duchy Federation did not mistake superstition for fact when it came to laws and more sublime parts of reality. After all, the whole Duchy of White were the experts on soul magic, yet none of it was necromancy. Not technically.

Ultimately, necromancy required raising the dead in some way to actually be necromancy. And although refining souls into raw essence was certainly a skill most necromancers would master, it was not considered forbidden.

That meant what Old Crow’s actions were only illegal because he was unlicensed. Not like he would be able to get one even if he cared to; the Federation tended to forget there was more to power than just magic. That other paths had their peaks too.

So, he grasped that bird’s soul and ripped it out without any qualms. The animal collapsed, deprived of consciousness and never to wake; it would stay like that until it either died or its biological functions failed. Crow brains in particular could not operate without a soul to guide them. Then he took out a prepared pinprick and began gently stabbing that soul.

What was actually the difference between a human soul and the soul of a crow in the end? It was really mostly about sheer size and density which was then imprinted by a personality as it grew. Infants had the purest souls, yet also the weakest. Because souls grew with time, whether their vessel was able to benefit from that growth or not. Crows could reach the limit of their bodies as quickly as in 30 days while humans could take decades or even longer as the abilities of their flesh improved. Gradually imprinting personality and other things.

Crows were far simpler. Even the almost 12 years Old Crow had kept these 9 had barely influenced their souls. To the point he could slowly and carefully rip out any impurities. And after less than an hour of work, he held in his hand the pure essence of a soul, which he promptly dumped into the bottle where the other 8 already awaited.

It was a prime resource for anyone with the expertise to use it in proper magical rituals as well as other uses. Shame the Old Crow himself could not do actual magic nor trusted anyone competent enough with soul sorcery. That was for later though. With the bottle full, he hid it inside his backpack along with the tokens and the 4 books which he had hand written. Though he did make sure it looked nothing like his own handwriting, a simple exercise for someone of his experience. They were not for himself, of course, he knew the contents by heart, but to accomplish what he decided that information had to be written down.

He glanced at the sun, seeing it was about time he got going to arrive at the meeting early. As would everyone else, he assumed. They usually did unless something else preoccupied them.

Ebon Respite had changed in the past month in a way. And in different ways, it had stayed the same. After all, most of the disquiet had been caused by the gangs going through the second round of culling, then getting desperate and escalating the conflict out of the underworld and slums of the city. Of course, a second sun seemingly appearing in the middle of the city followed by an undead incursion is the kind of thing that tends to curb any such enthusiasm. Not even the maddest bastards in the city would keep their heads up when there was seemingly a real possibility of house Blackburg sending more mages to restore order in that brutally efficient way they were feared for.

The streets were calm, like a road that had undergone a storm and someone had just finished clearing out the debris; so well restored after a disaster that no filth has had a chance to settle in. Or return. Well, that would change soon, Old Crow mused as he walked into a building. It was just a regular apartment complex really, except it was close to the slums and legally not in use after the recent disasters. The structure was stable enough though and it worked perfectly well for secret meetings.

He went straight to the second floor, found the right door, and knocked out the password. He needed not speak a word as he was let in by Maxim. Only 4 people were in the room. It would have once been 6 though 2 had already left on a journey of their own.

“Old Crow,” Rainer nodded his eyes filled with the respect that reflected in all 4 pairs. And Old Crow had to admit he had raised this generation well. Just the right amount of sentimental to make significant betrayal very unlikely yet calloused enough to become exceptionally competent. Some may see what he had done as malicious or evil. He had, after all, slowly manipulated them for years, gradually guiding them into the mould he had decided most fitting. The Fowl himself saw it as no such thing. He had forged them into people who could achieve greatness and made sure they were also the kind of people that would crave it, or at least some kind of exceptionality. In that way, he had given them all the tools they need to fulfill their dreams which he too had subtly given them. That would make them happier than most and than the vast majority of abandoned orphans like they had once been. In fact, he had done them a great service, and only naturally collected his fee in loyalty.

Now, the 6 teenagers he had seen the most potential in might not seem like much at first glance, but Old Crow did not think in the terms of the present. Everything he truly cared about was safe at the moment. He looked 20 years into the future, once they have had the time to grow into experience and assemble alliances. Forge their own organizations and yet still, maintained that mutual friendship they never realised they had once upon a time been guided into.

And of course, when they became the big movers and shakers of the generation they would not get in the way of their old teacher as long as he did not cross certain lines. And there was perhaps no one in this entire realm who knew better not to cross lines than the Old Crow. After all, everyone was so busy staring at the carrion eater that he guided them to believe that they forgot to ask the other important questions. Even Avys von Blackburg, devious as the Duchess was, likely did not even suspect what Old Crow actually was and knew. Or maybe someone was better at this than him for a change and she had figured him out already without leaking any hints. Not that he planned to stand on any side she was not on and as long as Irwyn lived he had insurance that he would never have to. Avys was one of the very few people that Old Crow respected as a schemer equal to himself despite her youth.

“As you may have guessed, there are important matters to discuss,” Old Crow spoke after they each found a seat. His pack was placed by his legs, though that would only come into the conversation later. It was all about timing. “Unfortunately, I believe it likely that trouble may yet return for us specifically.”

“We are talking more ‘cataclysmic’ trouble I suppose,” Aaron sighed tiredly, yet beneath flickered anticipation. That deep-rooted desire to solve things. Thanks to Old Crow guidance it was applied to real issues such as running an organisation or avoiding inevitable calamities.

“Only if we let it,” Old Crow nodded. “I have been delaying this conversation for as long as reasonably possible but it is about time we spoke about the consequences of what Irwyn had done.”

“You told us all what happened, Irwyn only did what he needed to survive,” Rainer said protectively, as was his nature. Perfect, based on their expressions they were not even considering blaming one of themselves, just as he had expected.

“If only life was only about assigning fault,” Old Crow chuckled as if it was ridiculous to even suggest Irwyn could have been in the wrong. “I am, unfortunately, quite sure the enemies he had made will not care.”

“I would think they would have gone after us already,” spoke Maxim with a voice of reason. Old Crow glanced at him and even could not read any emotion in the boy’s expression. Which did not mean he was feeling none, he had just been taught how to control his face and body beyond what would be considered reasonable. To be the actor that could perfectly play any role he needed to.

“There had been outside factors stopping pursuers. Now, I believe it is for the better you are not too aware of the inner politics of house Blackburg,” he said, mostly because Aaron could genuinely gleam something dangerous to himself from a few hints. “However, that obstruction will most likely soon disappear and there will be very dangerous people pursuing Irwyn at all costs.”

“And they might come and see what the connection is here,” Kalista observed. It was what she was good at after all and slowly that skill was seeping even into conversations. Into less literal seeing and more the symbolic.

“Exactly, which is why I have a plan that will make them give up on their search here. If you would extend your left hands?” he said and reached into the backpack, taking out 4 identical black tokens as the quartet obliged. Then he placed each just between the wrist and elbow on the arm for each of them. The tokens bubbled for a moment before they sunk into their skin, not leaving even a mark. And as Old Crow was made to understand, no feeling either.

“If you would explain?” Rainer was confused and slightly worried by the clearly magical effect, yet there was enough trust it was not quite fear.

“I believe congratulations are in order,” Old Crow grinned. “After all, very few people become ‘important assets of house Blackburg’ and even fewer do so forever hereafter and without any obligations,” they all stared at him for a moment and had a second take at their wrist still unchanged.

“And that will protect us from retaliation?” Maxim asked.

“Well, the third tenet still applies. Don’t mess with house Blackburg,” Old Crow explained. “But when it comes to crossfire, you will find yourselves strangely fortunate, much of that extending to people working for or with you. And if services are required you may find yourselves much more employable. Of course, as long as you don’t claim such work clashes with your existing obligations.”

“Which we don’t even have,” Kalista whistled, “Even for you this is a crazy thing to manage, Old Crow.”

“Ah, you see the actions of certain Alira von Blackburg had violated good half of the treaties the Guild maintains with house Blackburg. The Guild was entitled to compensation,” Old Crow allowed himself a chuckle. “And of course, there has been only one Fowl left in the city to negotiate what form that compensation took.”

“This is wonderful,” Aaron nodded, “but what are the odds that whoever comes looking does not simply have our minds scoured for anything useful, exposing this whole thing in the process?”

“You are forgetting the bane of any massive and untouchable organisation:” Old Crow kept smiling, though his heartbeat started slowing. Unfortunate… the tea had been even weaker than he had thought. “When the mages, and they will certainly be such, come looking, fully aware they are a month late, and find their leads already marked as important assets well…”

“They will assume someone else already checked and it’s not worth the trouble of defying the protections our status is supposed to offer us because we wouldn’t be just walking around if we knew anything important,” Aaron realised the solution.

“Exactly,” Old Crow nodded, though the smile on his lips no longer as genuine. His heart had already returned to how it had been before the tea. Still, he was confident in the solution. With his understanding of house Blackburg he gave it the odds of 98 in a hundred to work. Those were chances he was willing to bet important assets on rather than damage them.

“But do you have such a mark, Old Crow?” Kalista asked, her eyes suggesting she was already sure of the answer.

“Of course not,” Old Crow said. “I rely too much on being untraceable. Although the tokens can be only tracked by those directly empowered to by house Blackburg I cannot afford even that. Therefore I will be leaving Ebon Respite, consider this the first half of my parting present.”

And at his words they gaped, dumbfounded. Of course, it had most likely never even occurred to them that he would leave. That he could. He had been part of their lives since their early childhood after all. They could hardly even remember the times when he was not yet around.

“When?” Maxim was the first to recover, even traces of shock vanishing from his face after just a couple seconds; it was proof of how deeply shaken he was at the news that he showed anything at all. The others took a good bit longer and it was only this quick because they were well-trained. He was, after all, shattering their worldview in some ways.

“Tomorrow,” Old Crow smiled ever so slightly.

“You could have given us notice,” Aaron sighed, slightly frustrated, though more at the idea of what that meant for his administrative role rather than at Old Crow. The boy also couldn’t quite hide the excitement at the challenge behind his eyes. Old Crow was not completely sure the boy even realised it was there.

“I could have but then, perhaps you would have the time to dissuade me,” he chuckled with familiarity as he lied, the one person they would not suspect. It was, in fact, the opposite. He did not want them to realise that they could not change his mind nor that he did not actually need to leave. “And I have brought you a second present,” he reached and pulled the 4 bound books from his pack, and handing them each to their suitable new owner. He had hesitated about giving them away, even to his prodigies, but in the end he had determined the investment worth the risk.

Kalista received her book first and, just as Old Crow had expected, immediately started reading it from the front. The order after that did not really matter as long as Aaron was last, though he did take his time to give the girl enough time to figure out the point, just so that he would not need to make it himself. It was hardly necessary at this point, of course, but doing things in such a way would affect the 4 just slightly more deeply. Insignificant on its own but stacked together with thousands upon thousands of such small, seemingly forgettable things? Well, that was how loyalty and respect were built. Gradually and secretly.

“These are?” Aaron asked as he was handed his own. As always, he prefered hearing from a trusted source when available rather than check it himself.

“You could call them guides I suppose,” Old Crow poorly pretended to be in thought. Everyone of them knew him well enough to know he had planned what to say and just played along the act. More theatrics. “You have heard of what Irwyn had accomplished. And what great power his magic is. Any magic really. It is an exclusive, though incredible, path, but certainly not the only way to power. Where I come from, what the book describes is called Honing. The act of gradually improving specific abilities of yours bodies.”

“Gradually, which means we could have started years ago,” Rainer looked conflicted at that. Almost disappointed. Which was fine, because Old Crow did not need to even speak to restore that faith and then raise it.

“Because we did, love,” Kalista finally looked up, pointing at the passage she had been reading and stared at Old Crow. “This is the spotting excercise you taught me when I was nine,” she observed and became that additional step more loyal. She even practiced that excercise to this day after all, which is why Old Crow had featured it at the very front.

“Please understand, this is not a secret shared lightly,” Old Crow nodded. “You see, they were not exactly acquired coordially and their past owners would recollect them without heed to collateral damage if they so much as caught a whiff of them,” he spoke and technically did not lie. They certainly would have gone that far, back when they still lived. “I ask that you keep the contents hidden, best even from each other.”

“What if we complete ours,” Aaron asked.

“You need not worry about that,” Old Crow waved his hand. “Properly internalizing even one of them could take you each up to a full century based on what talent I have observed and that is only because you are suitable to those I have chosen for you.”

“Do you also study these then?” Maxim asked, not betraying any emotion as he had been taught.

“Yes, I do perform such Honing, thought I cannot claim true mastery despite the many years I have spent,” he chuckled in mock embarassment. He did not lie. After all, the most fundamental principle of Honing was that True Mastery was by definition unachievable.

“I don’t know how we can thank you,” Kalista said, slightly choking on emotion as well as she tried to hide it. She could be quite emotional for those in her closest circle after all.

“You may overestimate its worth,” Old Crow smiled gently. “It will make you better but not equal to a proper trained mage who had spent third of the time on their own power,” at least not on the scale of a single lifespan. “But as I have always taught you, all I ask is give and take. Remember this in 10 or 20 years when you can offer something I need. Become the type of people that will make me look at you with pride. This is, after all, the time of opportunity. Ebon Respite is in disarray, shattered. And with oh, so much vacuum in its underwold,” he said off-handedly, almost like he did not mean it. But he saw the fire of ambition begin to sparkle behind their eyes. If he was any judge of character, the city would be theirs by the decade's end.

And they all thanked him, grateful. Exactly as he had wanted. He gave them a last look, considering the future. The piercing eye, the deft hand, the rapid mind, and the faceless man. They made quite the group.

And as Old Crow headed back home from his meeting he still thought of them. The 6 children which he had given such special treatment to. Gently sunk his claws so deep into. 2 had already left on a journey and the other 4 were too as prepared to leave the nest as they ever would be. And it had made them happy, if indirectly, and would continue to do so in the future. Or at the very least happier than they would have been without him. The most enthusiastic altruist would, after all, always be the one who received something equal in return.

And then he stopped thinking about the 6 and thought of the hundreds. People great and small, though often the former. Grown up hatchlings, most kindly remembering that old man who had once helped them at their lowest. Remembering that respect, loyalty, and favors owed.

Well, it was high time to collect a few.

He brewed the second last dose of the tea and went to sleep.

When Old Crow set out his heart was thundering in his chest. He had saved up on the night tea the day prior so that he could afford a full dose before heading out. And without hesitation, he headed straight down south, leaving the city through the opulent Road Street. A few minutes of fast jogging and he found a dirt path less traveled, leading to a small farming village to the east.

And there, as soon as he was far enough away that no one could possibly see, he came upon a carriage.

The kind you would expect from a travelling merchant ready to open it up and use as a shop. Except those rarely camped out in the middle of nowhere without any beast of burden to move them.

As he knew it would, the side opened when he approached revealing a familiar face.

“Morning you ancient leech,” Bhaak greeted, already holding an oversized jar full of tea leaves.

“Morning you skittish snowflake,” Old Crow grinned, as genuinely as he was still able to.

“Now I resent that. Your duchy is the coldest place I have been all decade and that’s more magical than actual real snow,” the man huffed and put the tea on the counter. “So, what do you have for me this time.”

“This,” Old Crow handed him the bottle of purified crow souls. “Have a look youself.”

“High quality, as always,” Bhaak observed, taking one from his collection of hidden monocles to look at it through. “What else do you need,” he then asked. Because those were worth more than just rare tea. A lot more.

“I need to hitch a ride, down South to Steelmire.”

“All the way to the border,” Bhaak nodded. “And from there I assume you will make your way North, cashing in favours to get whatever you seek from your latest prodigy.”

“So you have already met,” Old Crow noted. “What do you think then? Irwyn is quite something for such a Young Fowl, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I never divulge customer secrets,” Bhaak said, more out of principle than anything, but then grew serious. “Though if I were to give an old customer some advice, it would be this: I have no idea what you are planning, however, I would recommend that if that plan involves him surviving the next decade, make sure you two end on the same side.”

“That strong an impression, huh,” Old Crow almost wanted to whistle. Instead he just smiled, more genuine than he though he still had in him. His heart was still beating hard. “No need to worry on that side. I have every intention of being even deeper in favour by then.”

“Glad to hear that,” Bhaak nodded and waved him in. “Come on then, I am starting to feel another tug. Better we are on our way before it compels me to follow, yes?”

And Old Crow obeyed that instruction, stepping into the carriage as Bhaak graciously opened the door for him. He entered into an expansive mansion, though that did not startle him. It was not his first time using this rather special service. Then there was not much time for chatter or gossip. Bhaak focused and less than a minute later Old Crow stepped out of the carriage, half the duchy away. They exchanged last greetings and went their own ways. It could be decades before they would meet again, just like this time but that did not mean it required extra sentiment. 10 years were not that long in the greater scheme of things.

So, Old Crow found the closest road and by the end of the hour he walked into Steelmire, his heart still beating so hard he could hear it.