The Raven Flame [The Crown Saga III] (First Draft)

Merciless

Another haze blew past me, wrapping me in a new, dizzying blur.

When I came to, I found myself in a forest clearing, my body swathed in a black cloak that clung to my young body from the pouring rain.

Before me lay a casket of oak—nothing grand, nothing polished, nor particularly beautiful. Just a casket with a shakily carved rose band along the edge and an arrangement of fading flowers on top that seemed to have been randomly plucked.

Something squeezed my hand, and I heard a suppressed sob. Curious, I looked up and met a hardened expression painting the face of Pangea's dad.

The rain made it difficult to tell whether his wet cheeks resulted from the riling rain or tears. He was obviously trying hard to maintain composure, but there were far too many cracks in that feeble mask to fool anyone—not even a kid.

"Your mother was a wonderful woman, Pangea," he muttered, his tense lips pulling away from his clenched teeth. "The best. She didn't deserve this fate."

My head whirled back to the casket, my eyes wide, and my heart stabbed with a thorned blade.

This was Pangea's mom's casket.

Not much time could've passed since that horrible day those brutes beat up Pangea's mom and ruined their booth. I didn't feel taller, nor did Pangea's dad's ebony hair reach much further than that morning, which meant...

Pangea's mom must've succumbed to her injuries.

Monsters...

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore that faint whisper seeping into my head.

They're all monsters.

"The world is an unjust place," Pangea's dad continued. "Some are convinced that they are better and more deserving of life just because they believe the spirits favor them. There is little space in Heliac for people like us, despite the lies those blind royals spin to maintain peace."

He knelt before me, grabbing my arms with gentle hands. "Yet, your mother lived her life fixating her mind on the small, beautiful things that still existed in the world—like you.

"Let's honor her memory and do our best to fill our hearts with the same kindness she showed everyone around her. We will be alright."

He pulled me into a wet hug. My eyes seared with welling tears, but Pangea's resolve overruled my sorrow, leaving not a single drop to shed from her ducts.

Kindness.

This voice was different—like a little girl's. Pangea's thoughts.

Be kind, mother always said. Kind... What did that even mean?

A wind picked up due west, stirring the rain until a whirling storm of water surrounded me.

When the storm subsided, I found myself looking at the world from a slightly higher point of view than before, but my feet were still solidly planted on the ground.

I was in the ramshackle house again—a place of even worse condition than my old house. Pangea's dad sat in the darkest corner, crouched over the wavering table, bottles scattered all over. His hair had grown long and matted, a beard peeking from between the hands he buried his aging face in.

"Father," my mouth said, articulating words without me knowing which would sound next. "Please, Father. We must try again. Alegra promised that we'd—"

"It's no use, Pangea," he muttered as I knelt beside him. "It's those Iridis. They're all the damned same."

The corner of my lip twitched.