A Court of Souls and Shadows

4. Raven

I held my breath as I drew back the arrow in my bow. It had been weeks since I had seen any decent game, and if I missed the small deer in front of me now, it would probably be even longer until I saw one again. I was so sick of eating rabbit stew. The deer hadn't noticed me yet, and was peacefully grazing on what little grass was peaking through the snow in the afternoon sun. Just as I was about to release my arrow, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck started to prick up. The distinct feeling of someone watching me flooded all of my senses. Keeping my hand steady on my bow, I released my arrow. It shot right through the eye of the deer, and it fell to the ground with a soft crunch in the snow. As I slowly walked toward the deer's dead body, I let go of some of my power, feeling the area around me for Souls.

I kept my pace toward the deer slow and steady, so as not to tip off my stalker that I was onto them. My power throbbed outwards softly, and I felt a single soul pulsing at my back, right at the perimeter of my range; meaning they were still a fair distance away. Maybe even far enough away for me to risk a glance backwards without revealing that I knew they were there.

I reached the deers body, and crossed to the other side of it so that my back was no longer to my unwanted watcher. I crouched down and unsheathed my dagger, beginning to skin the deer like I had all the time in the world. As I worked, I risked a few glances upwards, keeping it casual, like I was just scanning the horizon. And then I saw it. A soul pulsing brightly, but wrapped in something dark.

It was strange. Whenever I encountered souls, they were either a bright ball of light, or a dull orb. I found that the brightness of the soul often interpreted the personality of its owner. This soul pulsed brightly indeed, but had strange strands of black wrapping around it like bandages. Almost like protection. I had never seen anything like it before. I had planned on evading my unwanted watcher, but their soul intrigued me so much I decided that I would let them keep pace with me.

I finished skinning the deer. I rolled up the pelt and tucked it away in the bag I had slung over my shoulder, then I picked up the carcass and swung it over my shoulders as well, before slowly making my way back up the mountain slope to the cave where I lived.

I kept my power in check, constantly pulsing the area around me, keeping track of the strange soul in the mountains behind me. As I moved, so did it, never closing anymore distance; but not letting me get away either. I made it back to my cave and stored my things inside, before getting started on my fire for the night. I had to have it ready before night fall. As I worked, I noticed the soul move closer the smallest amount. I had never been a patient person, and I didn't intend to start now. The soul was strong, I could feel it's power, so I knew that they would hear me, even from their distance.

I kept my eyes on the growing flames of my fire, poking it with a stick as I called out, "I know you're there."

Silence.

I sighed and looked up, right at the soul where it stood. The soul pulsed a tiny bit brighter, as if it was alarmed. I had surprised them. "Why don't you stop being a creep and just come over here and tell me what you want already. If I wanted to kill you, I could do it from here," I said with a bored tone. It was true. If I felt honestly threatened by this soul, I could yank their soul from their body from right here.

The soul moved closer and I narrowed my eyes as the form approached, trying to make out the silhouette of the body as it came into view. The late afternoon sun bounced off two enormous wings. An Illyrian. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. I was in the Illyrian mountains, after all. I had come across many Fae in the centuries I had lived in the mountains, but never an Illyrian.

The sight of the grand Illyrian wings struck a cord in my heart. The last pair of Illyrian wings I had seen had belonged to my mother. I could barely remember how her face looked, it had been so long. But I would never forget the shape and curve of her magnificent wings, or the scars that marked them where they had been clipped.