“The Mark of the Crow offers a unique glimpse into the importance of symbols and their evolution throughout the ages. At first, it was used to distinguish Myndiri spies from their more common brethren. Then, it was co-opted by rebels and liberationists to identify each other. It fell out of use for a century before returning as the ‘Order of the Crows’. More recently, it has become more of a fashion or chic decor.”

- Professor Vertaeut Gullen, Arterian Academy of History, “Evolution of Cultural Symbols: Artifacts From The Myndir To Now”

“What do you want?” Aryana tersely growled.

“What? I’m not allowed to say hello to a friend I haven’t seen in years?” Tristan chuckled.

“You…!” Her fingers clutched themselves around the hems of her coat.

The two of them were alone. Alone after over a half a decade apart. It was a surreal experience, one that she was not very eager to continue.

They had exchanged awkward greetings before Tristan convinced her acquaintances that he’d take care of her as ‘a brother should’. Christian didn’t expect anything else, the boy simply believing the Frostwinder without a fuss. Kira seemed a little skeptical, but Tristan’s general charm and the fact that he was easy on the eyes certainly helped convince her in the end. With them dismissed, he led Aryana to a more secluded location, to a corner of Aster park.

The walk had gone about as well as she expected. The two shared a tense silence as she was unwilling to engage with this betrayer. Whilst Tristan didn’t seem too willing to talk until they found one of the side rooms in Aster that were free.

It irked her all the more that some part of her had simply accepted the situation. Had simply acquiesced without a fuss and followed along without regard to her own safety. Yana was there to help in a pinch, but even then, she was somewhat surprised by how readily she ended up going with him.

Her emotions were a wreck, her own thoughts a perfectly chaotic jumbled mess. She had done perfectly well avoiding most of the tribe that attended the Academy. The first time she had met Sophie and the disastrous tribal meeting that ensued already being buried deeper and deeper into the recesses of her mind. And now, with the snap of a finger, the briefest of errors in keeping composed. She had inadvertently exposed herself. I wish Sophie was here.

Yet there was also something else. That childlike, naiveté that perhaps, something had changed. A flicker of hope for a time before this one, before the chaos, and the hurt. She could feel her heart flutter ever so quietly, the acrid taste of doubt lingering on the tip of her tongue. It didn’t help that the moment they both came to a stop, the room was left eerily quiet, Tristan waiting expectantly for her to say something.

“Tristan.”

“Little Ari…”

They spoke at the same time. Aryana stiffened, on guard and alert. She warily eyed Tristan, the man running a frustrated hand through his silky blonde hair. His expression of dismay sent nostalgic tingles running down her spine. Hah… for real? Even now?

The two shared a look. One of pain and annoyance on her part, and one of reticence and an almost gentleness on his. It made her pause, another wave of deep seated disdain washing over whatever was positive. She recognised this gaze, this look that irked her. It had pissed her off before when they had first met in the city. But back then, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Now she was more certain than before.

Whatever happened in the intervening years since they last met. Tristan had changed, of that she had no doubt. Whereas she lived yet struggled to eke out an existence in the Frostwinds until Sophie, he was given the chance to spend that time exploring and taking in the world. He had thrived whilst she had not. And though she had thought he had long moved on, hoping that a casual dismissal would ease her own pain. She had seen but a flicker of it when he had acted so overtly friendly once they met up again. Now that she was exposed to the emotion in full, it only made her angry.

How dare he try to feel responsible now, to look at me with pity. Aryana gritted her teeth, turning sharply away from Tristan, if he had truly cared he would’ve done something, maybe argued with Galen. No, she clicked her tongue, he just happened to feel sorry the moment he realized I was still here. And the gall he has to pretend that… Everything is fine, tch.

Ironically enough, though she wanted to convey this sentiment herself. She found that her lips were dry. Her mouth opened to speak only to take a breath and close up once more. No words escaped, her own emotions keeping her bottled up.

“Ari…” Tristan spoke once more.

“It’s Aryana.” She responded on auto pilot, her own frosty tone surprising even herself.

“Right…” He looked away sheepishly, the tinge of hurt in his eyes almost making her regret her words, almost.

“Just… why are you here?” She murmured softly, the singular outburst having taken the wind out of her sails.

“I… look. What I said wasn’t a lie.” He tried to put on a suave smile, regaining a little of his natural confidence, “Professor Werncke did send me to check on you and to remind you that he wants to see you on Astra after class. I'm his teaching assistant in his other class, after all.” Fuck.

“Mhmm.”

“Ari…” He sighed, clearly getting himself a little flustered as well by the tense atmosphere.

It was funny to her, to see his bravado shattered with little to no interference. She chuckled. She even wanted to tease him a little.

“Sorry, Aryana?” His voice raised a little, his eyes a little wider.

“Ah.” Fuck, I made noise. “C-continue.” She tried to calm herself.

“Right. My bad.” He looked back out the window into Aster, taking care to avoid her gaze. “Secondly, I did want to see you. I know… I know that we… ah, how do I say it? We didn’t exactly…”

“I know.” She whispered.

She was, in truth, a little shocked. The last few times she had seen him, he had felt omnipresent. Like a leader amongst his peers and far more confident in trying to chat. At least enough that I had to hide behind Sophie. Now… It's almost like he’s changed back a little too much. Just what is going on with him? Why is he suddenly so nervous around me? Did I do something? Was it Sophie?

“Just talk.” She gathered her courage to prod him along.

“Right. I guess that’s a conversation we can have later, vingtava.”

Aryana immediately went rigid, whatever emotions now wiped from her body. “Vir elm eni ving, lenendh.” She replied icily in their mother tongue. We’re not friends anymore.

This caught him off guard, his cocky surety of peace that was about to make its return gave way to genuine sadness as a pained look appeared on his face. Only now did he seem to finally get some grasp of her opinion of him. As he did back when they were younger, he looked away from his problems, keeping her barely angled to his shoulders.

“Ah… right.” He grunted, “Whatever the case…” He seemed to hesitate, a little lost for words, “Err, we can talk about that later.”

His nervous tick, he still forgets what he said when faced with problems.. Guess some things just never change.

“Tristan. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so rude.” She eked out a response.

“Gah, whatever.” He almost growled, “I just wanted to make sure you were alright when I heard a student was displaying symptoms of m.a.s from Professor Werncke.”

“I’m fine.”

“I can see that.” He rolled his eyes.

Though his arms were crossed and turned away. His reflection in the window told her all she needed to know. There was still some fragment of him that considered her a friend, and that just hurt her all the more. After all these years.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“I…” He tried to speak, but stalled, discomfort lodged in his throat. “Umm… I…”

“It’s fine. I won’t tell.” She whispered, her hand beginning to tremble. Is he trying to tell me something he shouldn’t? What is he trying to say?

“You better not.” He muttered before letting out a snort, “Galen’s at the Academy.”

Aryana was a little annoyed, “I know that.” You're the one who told me in the first place, what’s going on?

“Pfft. No shit. I was the one who told you.”

“Then-”

“It’s about why he’s here.”

“Oh? Oh. I’m listening.”

“He wants you back from the Firekeeper, obviously.”

“And… and… I’m not going back.” She stated.

“I figured as much.” He chuckled, “But from what I’ve heard, he might also have discovered a way to draw out your powers.”

This made Ary cock her head to the side, “Huh?”

“Some arcane ritual of sorts. One of the older guys had me help out. At least that’s what I think.”

A ritual? That doesn’t sound very good.

“Didn’t get told or get a better look.” He continued, hands held up in defeat, already anticipating her questions.

“And you’re telling me this?” Ary asked.

“Hah. You’re… you’re surprisingly hard to talk to now, aren’t you?” He mockingly sighed.

“Hey!” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Joking, joking.” He half heartedly smiled, “Truth is, I’m telling you precisely because I don’t know what else he has planned. If it’s a ritual, then usually it requires the subject…” He turned to her.

“Ah.” Of course. She wanted to sigh, that would mean he needed me.

“Mmm, he’ll likely keep it somewhere nearby. Cause I think even he knows you’re not going to go back willingly.”

“Heh.”

“So just… I don’t know… be careful or something. And… “ He paused and shook his head, “I guess I was just here to warn you. Stay safe. And... sorry.” His shoulders deflated a little and he turned on his heel before Ary could even splutter out a response.

“T-thanks.” Ary mustered up enough sense to call out as he left.

When the door to the side room shut behind him, Aryana was left more confused than ever. She looked out the window to stare at the spring plants slowly sprouting into life. The snow having mostly melted beyond one or two odd patches still nestled within the park. Although the world moved on, some problems never seemed to leave her alone.

Galen’s here for my powers. Hah! Aryana laughed at herself, if he knew how readily I’d give any of it up to just leave it all behind me. Her expression then dropped, but him preparing a ritual is definitely worrying. And this whole meeting… spirits above and below, just what is up with Tristan? Gah!

Aryana scratched at her head and let out a heavy sigh. I feel so damned tired now. “Why can’t anything ever be simple?” She grumbled.

Classes were over by the time she finally decided to leave Aster Park. There was something about seeing all the greenery that amused her greatly enough to soothe her tumultuous soul. In times like these, she found herself greatly missing the dreary bleating of her goats, or even the occasional squawks and howls of the few critters that resided in the harsh land of the Frostwinds. Her plants and herbs too, were most certainly eaten or wilted by now.

The world was loud, the Academy more so. Back home, there were so many more moments of quiet, of solitude and reflection. Here, though, she had far more fun and was able to throw herself into curious new knowledge. She occasionally found herself overstretched and stressed. Expectations, classes, work, formulas. So many responsibilities, she pinched her nose, and now, there’s Galen and whatever the cursed hells he’s trying to do. And Tristan… spirits calm my soul. What does that boy want? For everything to be forgotten?! For us to just be friends like nothing ever happened?

“Haah.” She sighed.

By the time she reached the dorms, the weight of everything had exhausted her. She lazily threw off her clothes and changed into comfier attire. Only now did Yana let out an annoyed screech and take off from the coat pocket, Aryana chuckling at the silly sight. Yana pouted before zipping across the room, using all the pent up energy spent hiding from the mages and Tristan.

Aryana couldn’t help but grin at her companion. Beyond the companionship the strange little fae offered, she couldn’t help but feel just a little more connected to nature. After all, the faeries were fae connected deeply to the world itself, though whatever Yana did to end up in the deeps was a matter Aryana still didn’t have the courage to ask about. If anything, I’m just happy she keeps the room warm.

Her smile faded a little when she plopped onto her bed. Her arms instinctively reached upwards, grasping sadly at the air in anticipation for a body that did not arrive. Saddened, she crawled up to her pillows and snuggled agains them whilst Yana continued to enjoy the wonders of flight once more.

Aryana wondered what life would be like if she could fly. If she could do wondrous things and travel the world fighting distant foes like Sophie could. Her heart ached in the knowledge that she would only ever slow Sophie down in a fight. Still, she delighted that her protector always seemed overjoyed that she was around. Aryana giggled.

Another soft sigh escaped her lips and she just sprawled herself out on the bed. Her fingers tried to squeeze down on a hand that wasn’t there, imagining them interlocking and the soft warmth that would always follow. Sometimes, she closed her eyes, sometimes I wonder if I could talk you out of fighting. Just to enjoy life with me, there’s so much I still haven’t seen and you’d be safe.

She imagined the press of their chests, the gentle way Sophie often brushed her hair as she fiddled with her braid. Her innocent thoughts were quickly hijacked by flashes of her partner in the nude, the sight making her nearly moan out loud as she bit down on her lip to silence herself. Aryana chuckled to herself, spirits above, I don’t deserve her.

Regaining some semblance of control, she opened her eyes to find Yana hovering above her, the faerie’s face twisted into a half frown.

“Y-yana?” Ary managed to mumble, hopefully recovering from the surprise.

“I see something swirling inside, a demon perhaps looking to hide.” Yana stroked her chin thoughtfully.

“H-huh?! Demon? Where?!” Ary scrambled out of her stupor in a confused panic.

“Not you dummy.” Yana chortled, “The connection you share with the elf.”

“I-ah? Huh?”

Yana flew down and bopped her on the nose.

“Eek.” Ary jokingly squeaked.

But Yana had her arms crossed, a more tired looking expression on her face. She looks serious, how odd.

“Yana?”

“It is your life force. It's getting more coarse. The demon entangles itself ever deeper into your soul, one day, it will swallow you whole.” The faerie stated prophetically.

That brought Aryana’s giggling to a quick pause, “What does that mean?” She asked with a whisper.

The faerie tapped her nose, deep in thought. Aryana watched as Yana muttered something incomprehensible but filled with archaic magicks. The faerie glowed for the briefest of seconds before the light faded once more, leaving a slightly sulfuric scent atop Aryana’s nose. She now had the most tempting itch to scratch but didn’t want to distract the faerie.

Yana sighed, a rarity in itself. But one that now made Aryana worried, she sounded so dejected.

“My magic is beyond compare, but alas this world is not fair. For I do not know how she has the stranglehold, but if you will not be bold. Then your soul shall one day be absorbed completely, a process that will not end neatly.”

“What do you mean?”

“You and her are soulbound, just like the trees and roots in the ground. Without one, the other shall perish. Though in this case, you are the only one who would… er… perish.” Yana pressed on.

“But what changed? Why did you look so concerned?”

Yana looked away, “I must confess, this gives me stress. Your ties I cannot unbound, yet ever so slowly your soul is unwound. The bindings only continue growing stronger, it is not something I can ignore any longer. Something must be done for the roots are deep, if you simply accept this then many will weep.”

“That’s…” Ary managed to grin nervously, “That doesn’t sound very fun.”

Yana gave her nose a soft kick, startling her.

“Ah! Yana!”

“Though it will take time, and for now you should be fine. It is best that we start finding solutions, before meeting an untimely resolution.” Yana spoke before wiggling herself a little and zipping back into the air, “Consider my words dearest Aryana, so sayeth the magnificent Yana.” The faerie put on a brave face and proudly declared.

Aryana let out a grim chuckle, “I will. Oh wise Yana.”

With a final harumpf, Yana returned to stretching her wings and lounging in front of the window to watch the world outside. To Aryana, it all looked so peaceful. She held her hand in front of her and stared at it. Behind the facade of relaxation there were so many things happening at once that she felt almost overwhelmed. Sophie is fighting, Galen’s plans, Sophia’s pain, and now I’m dying. Certainly more exciting than the mountains, heheh.

In truth, what Yana said had already been coalescing in her mind even before this. She had often felt more lethargic, more tired by the day despite changing little about her routine. At first she thought she was just getting used to things in a new environment. But after returning from Ostia and the latest incident with the assassin, Aryana was finally willing to accept that Sophie and her bound had grown dangerously deep. The faerie had, after all, not led her astray so far. And she seems to care so much. It's kinda touching.

And yet, she hesitated, her hand forming into a small fist. For Sophie, it is the way I can help her out best. She heals in days and weeks instead of months and years. Though she is my protector, why can I not be her healer? Just a little more, Yana, I promise. I just want to help Sophie a little more, then I'll try my best to separate.