Quoth the Aspects, Nevermore

[GoddessofNight 112]

 

Quoth the Aspects, Nevermore

 

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“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.”

- Edgar Allen Poe, “The Raven” -

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Nynaeve sat upon the ground in the middle of the night, the Spring air gently caressing at her skin. She hummed softly, her ears flicking about as she listened to the nature around her. Her eyes would be shut and her breathing deep, calm...falling into a meditative trance in which she felt nothing but peace from.

 

 

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“Here I opened wide the door;— Darkness there, and nothing more.”

- Edgar Allen Poe, “The Raven” -

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Nynaeve’s eyes would flutter open, her emerald green hues looking about her. She was in her garden near Linandria. The place where most of her pain and suffering had been and always would be. She sighed softly before she noticed herself surrounded by ravens. That dreaded totem that she had tried to get away from by becoming the Meldramiriel Druid. Nyn smiled slightly, thinking to herself: ‘These are merely just birds and they have nothing to do with me.’

 

Once her thought was through, the ravens around her stopped what they were doing...and began to stare at her. Calculating eyes baring into her soul, it seemed, before they began to fly, circling her and surrounding her more and more. The feathers would brush at her skin, talons and beaks rubbing against her. However, instead of feeling pain...she felt calm and peaceful as if she was being greeted by an old friend.

 

“I don’t understand what’s-” Nyn’s voice was cut short by a woman’s voice. It was beautiful like a melody, gentle like a breeze, and soft like velvet.

 

“My dearest Nynaeve, did you really think we would let you be something that you are not?”

 

Nynaeve would turn to look to where the voice came from. There, on the path of flowers and trees, stood a woman who was more beautiful than Nyn could have ever imagined. Beside her was a man, a set of deer antlers on his head and a bow resting on his back. The pink haired woman blinked as the ravens still circled her, cawing in happiness.

 

“Nynaeve, we never accepted you as the Meldramiriel Druid. You know this, do you not?”

 

The woman would bite her lower lip slightly. In the deepest parts of her heart, she did know. She was just too ignorant to believe it. She wanted so badly for the curses to be lifted and sadly...they never did. That is how she knew.

 

The ravens would soon part from around her, Nyn now covered in raven feathers. She stepped forward to come face to face with the woman and man, the Aspects. Her emerald eyes would glitter as she looked to them.

 

“Why can I not escape this totem, Mother? Why do I have to stick with it?”

 

“Because you are the only one strong enough to deal with it’s curse.”

 

Nyn tilted her head before releasing a small sigh. She was slightly upset, however if this is what the Aspects truly believed...she wouldn’t fight against them.

 

“I am the Raven….always and forever. Nothing will change…”

 

“It will never change because you and the totem fit so well, oem’ii. That is your totem, just as we wished for it to be in the beginning. Be the one who redeems the Raven, for so many have already forsaken it’s name.”

 

The ravens would then encircle her once more, claiming her as one of their own. She would embrace their wings against her skin, the talons and the beaks as they marked her as the Druid of the Raven.

 

 

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“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,”

- Edgar Allen Poe, “The Raven” -

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Nynaeve would come out of her meditative trance, looking back out onto the water from her sitting post. She took in a breath before her eyes went to gaze upon something on her left shoulder. A large raven, beautiful as a midnight sky, would sit there like stone except for it’s eyes blinking as it studied her. Slowly, Nyn would bring her hand up to it, letting it’s head meet with her palm. She would stroke it’s feathers.

 

“I am the Raven….I accept that..”

 

Nyn would then stare back out into the water, petting her avian friend.

 

 

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“But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -

Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.’

Then the bird said, 'Nevermore.”

- Edgar Allen Poe, “The Raven” -

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