Maleficent: Diaval's Story

A Spy is Born or Gone With the Wings - Chapter 1

Here is a video from  jojogeorgieva's channel  on youtube when Maleficent loses her wings.  Please comment below.

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        I know there are those who tell her story like they knew her.  But no one knew her quite as well as I.  She changed me and it was not merely a change from a bird to a man. Knowing her was a gift and it is this gift that I give to all of you.

        I was born in a nest in the wilds of Ireland.  My parents were proud of their brood as ravens are wont to be.  As I grew I grew a little bigger than my brothers and sisters. My feathers were as glossy and black as any bird could wish.  My wings spanned the length of a man's arm. 

        My parents named me Diaval.  In ravenspeak it means "of the devil".  Yes, I can hear you saying, "What a wicked name."  But you must understand that we ravens are a wicked lot.  We toil not like doves; they peck the ground for bugs and seeds to feed their chicks.  No, we steal what we can from the humans.  We even steal from hawks and eagles the prey they have hunted and killed.  And when humans die, if they are not buried straight away, we will even feed on their flesh.  For the dove, a symbol of peace, is blessed by God.  We ravens are blessed by the devil.  At least that's what my parents told me.

            There came a time of drought in Ireland.  The devil's luck had eluded us. There was little to steal.  The fields were dry and parched.  Our flock decided to migrate to find new sources of food.  We flew the length of Britannia to the land known as Scotland.  We called it Wetland for it was much wetter than Ireland.  Grain blanketed the fields.  It was there we made our home.  It was there my world turned on its head.

            The first time I saw her was at the site of the castle ruins.  It was twilight, just before the rising of the sun.  I was curious.  I had heard of Maleficent. What raven had not?  The others told me she had horns like a ram, for they were huge, but they twisted like that of a goat, and her ears were pointed like a goat but naked like a human.  She had the wings of an eagle and these were brown and beautifully feathered.  And if you laid two men end to end they would not equal the span of those wings. 

        I perched on an embankment to look at her.  The horns were there and her ears as described.  But there was something wrong.  She wore a cloak.  I could not see the wings.  I was about to fly for a closer look when she turned toward me.  Maleficent pursed her lips and blew a wind in my direction.  I was surprised at the strength of it. Blown off my perch I flew away.

        The next day I and a few members of my flock flew to a field of wheat to steal the ripening grain.  There was a scarecrow but we did not care.  We knew it was no threat.  A small clearing lay in the middle of the field.  Sheaves of wheat and chunks of oatcake littered the ground.  Yes, I hear you saying, "You fool it's a trap!"  We ravens are clever; nevertheless we have occasional bouts of stupidity.  On that day, the stupidity was mine.  I led my companions to the clearing and we began to feed.  Suddenly a net flew over us.  My flock mates deserted me, I alone was trapped.  The net was heavy, the ground wet and muddy.  I struggled mightily, lacerating my flesh, tearing my beautiful feathers, coating my body in mud.  The farmer, who had thrown the net, was shouting something, I knew not what.  Ravens do not understand humanspeak.  His filthy dogs were barking and growling at me. 

        As the farmer raised his club I thought, "This is the end."  It was then I felt something, a power, a force entering my side.  I felt myself growing.  The net became lighter and lighter as I grew larger and larger.  I heard the farmer cry out "It's a demon!"  I was stunned, I understood humanspeak now?  I threw off the net.  I looked at my wings as they disappeared and beheld human hands!  The air was chilling, I shivered.  The farmer and his dogs were gone.  

        I kept looking at my back, hoping my wings were there--nothing.  I didn't see her until she was almost upon me.  Startled, I was silent.  Maleficent seemed to have shrunk.  She was no bigger than I.   The dark fairy gave me a measured look, walking slowly around me like humans do when they're inspecting cattle.  I turned and faced her, never letting her get behind me.  Then I saw her back, clear as day—no wings, gone, vanished.  But I was more concerned with my own plight.

        I spoke.

         "What have you done to my beautiful self?

        She scoffed at me.

        "Would you rather die beneath the blows of a club?  Or should I let the dogs tear you to bits?"

         I was upset and cold, covered in mud, no feathers, naked.

        "I'm not certain."

        She chuckled softly.

        "You're an odd one. Oh, stop complaining.  I saved your life."

        That was true.  I would have died.  I hung my head.

        "Forgive me."

        Her expression softened.

        "What do I call you?"

        "Diaval, and in return for saving my life, I am your servant, whatever you need."

"Wings, I need you to be my wings."

        I nodded.  Waving her hand, the water from a nearby stream jumped up in a spray and washed the mud off me.  But now I was wet and cold.  She grinned.  There was a gleam in her eye.  As she waved her hand at me I suddenly felt warm.

        Peering up at the scarecrow I realized its garments had disappeared, and now they were on me.  So this is what it was like to wear clothes.  How does one preen these things?  Self-conscious, I felt unkempt, I straightened and smoothed the cloth with my hands, and ran fingers through the tangled feathers—uh—the tangled hair on my head.  I realized that hands with fingers can be very useful.  I had barely finished my grooming when she waved her hand at me.  Once again I was a raven.