The Raven's Blessing (Taakitz one-shot)

The Raven's Blessing

In this dark office, floating in the endless and eternal aether of the Astral Plane, even the clocks stood totally still.

There was no breeze that stirred the long, black curtains, no sound at all except for the Newton cradle desk toy that click-clacked softly in the stillness.

The toy was seated on the right hand corner of a black mahogany desk—it was the only thing on it, in fact, except for a nearly foot-tall stack of dark manila file folders on the left side of the desk with a plaque marked, "IN." A plaque without a pile of folders marked "OUT" mirrored it on the right side of the desk, just behind the oscillating toy. Commanding the center of the desk was a pair of dark-skinned hands that rested impatiently on top of an opened folder in the center of the desk.

Those impatient hands were connected to a normally very patient woman. A beautiful woman, with a complexion the same color as a night sky, wearing a neat grey suit, with piercing golden eyes and short hair braided across her scalp.

She glanced at the clocks out of pure habit, knowing they would say 'midnight' as they always did. And then she glanced at the windows, though she knew what awaited her there, as well—nothing outside the windows but an ocean of soft white luminescent fog.

The rest of the office wasn't much to look at, but she did it anyway. Dark blue carpet, dark brown wood-paneled walls that were left completely unadorned. No door, either, though that was mostly for her own convenience.

No one came in unless she wanted them in. And no one left until she gave the order. She always found things were just simpler that way.

Still, that precaution didn't prevent people from being late.

Just as she thought this, a rift opened up in the space in front of her desk. She straightened, focusing her gaze on the rift with a stern expression, and watched as a man stepped out of the tear in spacetime, looking remarkably flustered.

"I'm sorry, my lady," the man began, nearly stammering. He reached up and tugged on the lapel of his charcoal suit, centering the jacket on his chest, then ran a hand nervously through his dark hair. "I was—er..."

"Late," the woman said pointedly, fixing him with a stern glare that froze him in place for a moment before he assumed a respectful straightened stance.

"My apologies," he said, bowing slightly, still looking slightly nervous—eyes still glued to the floor—but now much more composed.

This was certainly more like him. Punctual, respectful, neat... but as of the last few weeks, he'd been replaced by a consistently tardy, nervous mess. Always glancing around like he was hiding something, disappearing off to nowhere when he wasn't on the job...

It was strange. And it warranted a serious discussion. The Raven Queen ran a tight ship, and he was her best employee, her most impressive bounty hunter, her Grim Reaper. If something was wrong with him, the balance of nature itself could be upset, and drastically so.

She steepled her hands atop the desk. "Kravitz."

His name echoed through the room, making him flinch slightly.

"Are you well?"

He looked up at her in surprise, and found concern etched onto her face—not reproachment, or anger, but genuine concern. He hesitated, and the concern deepened, her eyebrows furrowed.

"I've... never been better, actually," Kravitz admitted, after the moment of confusion passed.

The Raven Queen sat up straight in her seat. "Is that true?"

"Yes, my lady."

She fixed him with a curious look. "Are you unhappy with your job?"

"Not at all!" Kravitz assured her, looking shocked at the accusation. "Like I said—I'm quite happy. With everything."