Raven

x

A small woman sat at an old oak desk, her fingers curled around a gold pen as she wrote away on yellow, cracking paper. When her pen reached the end of the page, instead of proceeding to the next, she sighed. She gently set down her pen, brushing her hair away from her face. She looked across the small room she was situated in, observing the small bird currently asleep in a cage. She pursed her lips, before sighing again and pushing her chair back to get up. It scratched a loud, irritating noise, causing the small creature to awaken, dazedly looking around.

The woman made her way to the cage, unlocking it, watching as the bird slowly got up and flew over to her hand. She looked down at the small australian raven perched on her fingers, it's icy blue eyes looking about erratically before the woman snapped her fingers, bringing the bird's attention to her. It's head tilted, squawking, and she ran her other hand gently down the small raven's body, petting it.

"I suppose it's time," the woman murmured, and watched as the raven's eyes suddenly lit up, fluffing up its feathers, as if it knew what was happening. The raven sat on the woman's fingers patiently as she slowly walked towards a small window, unlatching it and leaning out. She gave one last pet to the bird, her fingers glowing as she parted the small raven with gifts it would later need, then shooing it off her fingers. It flew away, disappearing into the clouds, only to appear again a few seconds later, floating in front of the woman as if waiting on something.

"Ah, yes. Your name is.."

***

"Hale."

A middle aged man slowly formed and came together from puffs of black smoke, wavering in form and opacity till he finally solidified. He impatiently waved away the lingering haze, stepping away from where he appeared.

"Stolas."

A young man greeted him, nodding his head in his direction but not paying much mind. Instead he apathetically flipped pages of his novel, sitting down with his legs propped up on the desk in front of him.

"More reading, I see." The older man commented, setting down his things as the younger one hummed in reply. He began to go through his bag, taking things out and neatly putting them in place on his own desk.

"How was earth?" The younger, Hale, dispassionately asked. Stolas sighed in disinterest as he took off his coat, "Spoiled, carefree, living vile creatures, as usual. No wars, no sickness, barely any death. Almost makes me want to die." Stolas rambled on, his monochromatic voice sounding louder than it actually is in the large, quiet room. Hale chuckled, finding amusement at how childish his mentor sounded. He closed his book, throwing it onto his desk before standing, walking over to Stolas.

"Prince Gaap has requested a meeting with you. He claims you have something he needs." Hale callously mentioned, crossing his arms. Stolas turned towards him, snickering while shaking his head. He raised an eyebrow at the younger, noting out loud that Hale was never a big fan of Gaap before walking to a different table, beginning to sort through papers.

"His name, for one, is atrocious. Second of all, he is a prince. A mighty prince. He shouldn't need to ask for meetings and permission. He's higher order." Hale frowned, never had understood why a mighty prince would need permission from just a prince. Stolas was a great prince of hell, but Gaap was a mighty one. He has higher order over Stolas, and Hale was sure Gaap would not go quietly if Stolas were to ever deny him permission, so what was his point?

"Everyone has agreed his name is atrocious. Do not tell him that, though, unless you want everyone including ourselves to be his roasted dinner. Also, as that be may, he does have higher order over myself, but that does not mean he has higher order over everyone else. Only the kings can do what they truly want. The rest of us unfortunately have to be diplomatic." Stolas spoke with distaste, as if he hated the idea of being civil. Hale laughed at this, knowing if he could, Stolas would take the chance at being a king and finally run things his way. To Stolas, Hell was supposed to be chaotic and erratic, the true depiction of flames everywhere and suffering. Instead, it was a diplomatic kingdom where the screaming and flames can only be found in dungeons and the outskirts.

Stolas finally sighed, waving his hand. "Set one up for whenever he's available." Hale nodded, turning away from the older to a large, wood carved door. He started to leave, but was stopped short of exiting, due to the call of his name.

"Have you any tales?" Stolas looked at Hale expectantly, the younger looking falsely in thought for a moment. He did indeed receive some, but they were not to be told to Stolas. These were too important to bestow upon him, unless Hale wanted to speed up time, rather than prevent it.

"No." Hale simply stated, before turning around and leaving.

***

"Miss Anpiel?" A small boy squeaked, shy and nervous. A woman looked up from her novel, smiling warmly at the young boy. She set down her book, leaning forward on her chair to give the child in front of her her full attention. "Yes, Afriel?"

"Y-You have a visitor, miss Anpiel. They say they have a tale." The boy spoke quietly, clearly intimidated. The woman, Anpiel, sighed sadly. He was a Cherub, and despite his high importance, he was still jittery and shy around angels. Anpiel stood, reaching a hand out to brush the boy's head.

"Thank you for telling me, Afriel. Why don't you go check on the birds for me?" She smiled genuinely down at him, watching happily as his face lit up. Afriel always liked Anpiel's birds, was always giggling and happy when tending to them. He nodded his head excitedly, running off and out of the room. Anpiel giggled to herself, before leaving as well. She quickly went off down a long, white colored hallway, paying a polite nod to every angel she passed by. She passed several corners, before finally coming to moderately sized double doors, completely plain of any designs other than intricate gold handles that were so pristine, Anpiel could see her reflection. She took hold of both of them, gently pulling them open and stepping inside, feeling as the air around her shifted and got more shallow.

The room was mostly empty. In the middle were red drapes, effectively cutting off half the room from view. The side that Anpiel was on had two sofas, one on each side of the door, gold and dark maroon red with soft, subtle designs that were scattered across the cushions. Large gold pots of various flowers stood on either side of them, and lastly some paintings that depicted the Lord and his angels. The rest was all empty space, and Anpiel stood in the middle of it, watching as a shadow behind the curtain moved.

"You have a tale?" Anpiel spoke, her voice coming off as monotone, not quite her voice anymore. There was always a level of distortion in this particular room, which was why a curtain hung to cut off each party from physically witnessing the distortion. The ones on the other side of the curtain were only here to visit, not to enter. They were not quite in heaven, but not quite on earth, nor anywhere else either. This room was a plane in between.

Despite the distortion, Anpiel always knew who her visitors were. She had many, but every one of them held their identities in their tales. She saw the shadow shift again, almost like a head nod, and a low, rough distorted voice reached her ears.

"Yes. I believe that Stolas.."

***

heyo i edited this introduction a bit from it's original posting, so if you notice anything different that's why! thank you for checking out raven :) 

i'm keeping this from the original authors note: 

ps. i'm doing actual demonology/bird mythology research for this. almost all demons/angels, at least 90% of all bird-y information, is 100% true (well, as true as they can get) straight from demonology/mythology.