When Raven and Hog, nearly an hour later, walked out from the line of trees by the road campsite, more than one stared at Raven with round eyes.
"Blimey! Quite the jewel you've got there, boy!" Twig was the first to speak, but he was soon followed by the other mercenaries whom all seemed to wholeheartedly congratulate Raven for her "first battle wound".
None of the women were present, they had most likely already gone to sleep, but Heron smiled as he walked up to Raven.
"I'm glad you came ba..." His smile faltered when he saw the full extent of Raven's injury. "Dear god... No wonder Ardea's hand hurt!"
Raven said nothing and just stared blankly at the nearby fire. Hog leaned over and whispered into Heron's ear: "He's been like this since I got him to follow me back. He hasn't said a word."
Heron glanced the tent where his wife was sleeping. He had feared Raven would close up even more because of this - seems he was right.
"Raven, my boy, don't take what my wife said to heart. She was only afraid after the ambush and she took it out on you." Heron moved so he stood between Raven and the fire, forcing Raven to look at him. "You have every right to be mad about what happened, but I hope you can trust me when I say it won't happen again."
"Sure." Raven's voice sounded distant.
She didn't look up at Heron's face before she turned and over to the tree that was closest to Hog's tent. With almost no effort, she climbed to the lowest branch and settled down for the night.
Behind her, Heron couldn't help but feel dispirited. He had finally managed to get the kid comfortable enough to sleep in his family's tent the night before, but now everything was back to square one.
"Well, at least that's end it for this time." With an understanding glance at Heron, Hog sat down next to Twig by the fire.
"The bandit crew was large but not very skilled," Twig responded; "they only had a few spiritualists and they let their spirit essence slip early."
Hog was silent for a while as he thought back on the fight, he seemed to ponder something but ultimately rejected the notion.
"True. Let us hope it stays that way all the way through."
"Haha, I hope not! That would be too boring!" Twig bellowed.
Hog sighed. "Seriously, Twig, you never learn."
The two mercenaries, and some of their fellow crew members, kept talking in hushed voices for a while, but Raven just smiled and let herself fall asleep. The mercenaries had not noticed the knives she threw before and only sensed the spirit essence, because of this they had figured that the bandits had messed up. So, at least for now, Raven felt than her cover was safe.
---------
The next day was awkward for nearly everybody. Well, for everyone except for Raven.
Ardea, with her fractured hand tightly wrapped in bandages, was clearly ashamed of her behavior the day before but had trouble getting around to apologizing. Mayeri, who had only learned of the ambush that morning, had shrieked loudly and nearly fainted the moment she saw Raven's now nearly rainbow colored face. She spent the rest of the day unnaturally quiet, casting glances at her mother - the notion that her mother could hurt anyone to that degree shocked her. The men in the caravan, all made varying attempts at engaging Raven in conversations but to no avail, thus leaving the caravan in an odd silence.
Raven on the other hand reveled in that very silence. She quite enjoyed playing the apathetic child while watching everybody else squirm awkwardly at her disinterest. After all, pretending to be someone your not can be quite exhausting in the long run, so this change of pace for her was most welcome.
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The Whisper of the Nightingale
FantasyWhen Raven Night was alive she had, since the age of three, been trained into a deadly killer and by the age of 25 her prowess had become legend; she was beyond a shadow of a doubt the most deadly assassin the world had even seen. They called her 't...