The Raven King

Chapter 5: Hunted

Every time Eleanor pulled up into the driveway, she was always shocked by the state of the house before her. Her head could never wrap around how a house once filled with laughter and memories of childhood could wither and rot in the few years after.

Time had stripped the once lively warm peach pink exterior leaving it a nasty brown while raw wood peaked underneath the worn creamed patio and stairs. They creaked under her weight as Eleanor pulled out the keys, unlocking the front door. Before she stepped in, a caw cut through the silence, turning her attention to the raven perking onto the home's gutter.

"Theron?" She questioned.

With a flare of his wings, he leaped off and down onto the patio. Eleanor stepped back as the raven started to grow, shifting into a middle aged man whose velvet black wings folded behind him. Like before, a black collared shirt with dark black trousers was his outfit of choice it seemed. A hand ran through his raven black hair, causing a violet shift in the light before those gaze flickered to the home.

"Is this your childhood home?"

"It is." She pushed the door open. Light streamed through covered curtains, illuminating the now dust filled air that weighed heavily on her lungs. The soft warmth of the living room colors had faded into a dual mixture of browns, grays, and dusty shades. "My mother loved all the warm colors; reds, oranges, yellows, she never got enough of them." Her hand brushed against the dusty walls. "My dad would paint the house in colors if it would make my mom happy."

And that's why...after the diagnosis, she took his death so hard.

"Your father sounds like a nice man."

"He was," her smile softened. "He would give you the shirt off his back if he could." So why was it that a man like that was taken from us too soon? At the familiar prick behind her eyes, she glanced away from Theron. "When he died it was like...everything had fallen apart, especially since my mom was diagnosed with Alhizemers a few weeks before. After his death, it was like...she had given up."

Clearing her throat, Eleanor made her way into the kitchen where she was greeted by the peeling walls off the yellow kitchen. "My sister started to spiral downward and suddenly, I had to be the caretaker for everyone." At a whopping fifteen years old. A bitter laugh pressed against her lungs.

How do you tell a fifteen year old that their dreams are basically dead?

"Theron."

"Yes?" Those dark eyes met hers.

Eleanor wasn't naive to the myths and folklore about ravens and death. Even if it wasn't through a magical sense, she knew that some animals had the ability to smell sickness. She swallowed. "Just how bad was she?"

His wings drooped at the question, as his head shook slowly. "She doesn't have long, I'm afraid."

She doesn't have long. Eleanor turned away. She knew it or at least had a feeling that her mother's time was running out, but that didn't make the pain less easier. It didn't make any of this less easier.

"I've been taking care of her and my sister my whole life." She looked down at her hands before looking around what had been her home. "I gave up so much for them and it's not their fault. I know it's not their fault and yet, yet I can't help but wonder why?" She turned back to him. "Why me? Why them?" Why was this world so unfair in taking away the ones we love?

Theron shook his head. "I don't have an answer for you."

Of course he didn't. He wasn't some magic king that could turn back time or know all the secrets of the universe. Still, Eleanor wrapped her arms around herself as she closed her eyes. "I don't know how to let go," she whispered. Opening her eyes again, she met his gaze again. "I don't know the first thing about taking care of myself."