Caw of a Crow

[LoLzboi 661]

A painting depicting Yurii Vankovich Radovic, High Pontiff Emeritus

8th of Sun’s Smile, 1719

 

 

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The brilliant red of an early morning sun broke through the dim interior of the small hovel, its light illuminating the dirt floor as it traced itself across the cramped expanse to the foot of a bed nestled against the opposite wall. Moans and cries seeped from the sheets as blood dripped to the floor from a baby writhing against the hands of its father. The man looking lovingly between the white cloth swaddled youth that laid in his hands, and what youth remained on the weary and sweat stained face of the woman laying in the bed.

 

 

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The sun danced through the leaves of a small patch of trees as two boys ran hither and thither along the banks of a babbling brook, calling out to each other as they pranced eagerly after the toads leaping fearfully away from their small hands. Their playfulness soon tiring them as each collapsed upon the soft sweet grasses, their eyes drawing upwards to the flock of crows peering down upon them. Yet peculiarly there was one different to the others, its white feathers drawing the attention of one of the boys, his eyes widening at such a sight.

 

 

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Frost clung to the walls of the hovel, an eerie silence bearing over the inhabitants as they huddled together upon a bed nestled against the opposite wall from the window. Their bodies shivering as they pressed closer beneath the furs wrapped tightly against themselves. Every now and then a rumble from a stomach could be heard.

 

 

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Sails whipped in the wind as the great ship cut through the water easily, its deck filled with men cloaked in brilliant white bearing crimson crosses. A boy stood on the stern of the monstrous titan his head turned down as a great figure loomed over him, the gold of a crown glinting in the bleached sunlight. Its brilliance only being matched by the approving smile offered to the youth.

 

 

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A robed man stood at the gilded altar, his hands moving in ritualistic fashion as chants rose from the depths of his throat. The youth before him kneeling low upon the ground with, his light voice echoing the words spoken. The light of a solitary candle illuminating the white robes of the icon resting against stone.

 

 

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The tavern bustled with rowdy laughter, cheers, and singing. Folk from across the world could be seen frollicking amongst each other, buxom women with scarred suitors, men coaxing their friends towards stunning maidens, magi lighting candles with nothing but their hands, drink laiden barmaids snaking their way through the littering of guests, and even a dreadknight standing ominously still amidst the clambering. Its inhabitants too joyful and boisterous to notice a barmaid lingering at a table too long.

 

 

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A gathered mob marched down the immaculately kept knave of the grand cathedral towards the white robed figures at the far end. Their leader brandishing a letter with fury in his eyes and stabbing words from his lips as he spat at the most predominant of the robed men. Yet his hand went to lower the pitchfork raised by his companion as it was brandished.

 

 

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The man leaned back in his seat as he clutched his arm, the throbbing pain causing him to drop the quell onto the parchment laiden desk. His eyes peering out to the rookery that lay just beyond his small cell. All but two of its inhabitants missing. With a sigh, he leaned forward to take up the quell once more just as a white feather fell onto his current document.

 

 

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Three figures huddled in a small room, two facing one. Their voices lowered as they spoke, yet filled with life. Looks passed freely as a white shawl was placed about a portion of the gathering.

 

 

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The ring of Laurels descended slowly from above, the man beneath them peering out to the gathered throngs that clogged the grand cathedrals knave. His face, although it should have been marked with great pride, remained staunch and unmoved. That is until a flock of doves was released, their movement a flourish as they soared.

 

 

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A baby cried out in the night as its mother moved quickly through the darkened city streets. Her eyes passing feverishly about her as she made her way beyond the red brick walls and into the forests that lay beyond. Her figure meeting another in a low cut clearing who took the babe before they continued onward together.

 

 

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An elderly man moved through darkened alleys as his companions shooed away any stragglers before them, shaska’s glinting a bright light as they made their way beyond the walls. Behind them came the calls of joy as robed men paraded through the main square lofting on high a small scrap of parchment.

 

 

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A large room filled with aged men echoed with shouts, parchment turning, and innocuous remarks as each waived a finger at the other. The chaos revelled between the walls until the disunified voices began to repeat a single phrase.

 

 

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An ancient man sat at a well worn desk, his wrinkled hands shaking feverishly as he scratched upon the parchment what words he was able to. As the time passed the parchment became darker with blotches of spilled ink and crossed out sentences. The old man would pause for moments at a time to give long lasting bouts of coughing, leaving his frame bent over itself for a time after it had ceased as if the act of straightening himself was difficult.

 

On the third round of the coughing, as he huddled bent over himself and rested his head against his knees he heard a soft song from the window. For a moment he seemed as if to question if the sound had come indeed, but as it continued he would look towards its source. There, in the window, sat a peculiar crow. One that was far different than the other crows he had seen, and it sung to him with a peculiar voice.

 

As he pressed himself from his desk to the sound of popping and creaking joints the bird continued, and as he shuffled towards it the beak turned towards him fully. With eyes wide, the elderly man seemed to pick up pace. His strides much larger, his joints no longer creaking, and as he reached the bird he felt a warmth he had not felt. Yet, as he reached out to touch its wings, it spread them and took to the air only to perch upon his shoulder. With amusement, the elderly man gave a raspy chuckle before a second bird of the same variety came through the window and landed on his second shoulder.

 

Looking betwixt them, the weight he had known his whole life seemed to lift from himself as they began to beat their wings in unison. The wrinkled ancient man rose beyond the confines of his room, beyond the limits of his window, and found himself soaring across a brilliant red sky.

 

 

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[xboxersz 222]

”They never did grant us a proper pension for all of that hard work, did they?” remarks High Pontiff Pontian II in jest, as he and an assembly of other clergymen welcome High Pontiff Siegmund I to the Seven Skies. 

[eulersnumber 26]

Frederick Guillen sobs for Siegmund, a man much more than just a pontiff for him. 

[frankdh 2418]

2 hours ago, xboxersz said:

”They never did grant us a proper pension for all of that hard work, did they?” remarks High Pontiff Pontian II in jest, as he and an assembly of other clergymen welcome High Pontiff Siegmund I to the Seven Skies. 

 

Daniel V finger-guns “aayyy”

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 15456]

Father Odus frowns at the news. “Perhaps the last review of golden bulls was too much for him.” He says a prayer for the High Pontiff Emeritus and contemplates his own moratlity. 

[osumanduas 1442]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.