[P] r.i.p. to my youth;

[Raum]

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

 

“Has she not?”
 
The question arrives like death, cold and fetid upon the walls around which it echoes. While that voice of death is soft, Raum’s gaze is the weapon that delivers it. His eyes are the sting of electricity, the flood of water in lungs.
 
The Crow makes no move, not when he stands beneath the liquid light of the moon as it tumbles in the cave’s open mouth. He stands as an instrument of death might – quiet, ready, awaiting use.
 
An ear twists atop Acton’s skull, bright like a spark. “And when have things ever needed to make sense to you?” Raum asks his brother – the Magician who was always more reckless. A corvid tilt of his head, a glimmer of black pearl eyes, and Raum observes softly, “She has made you soft.”
 
And there is no praise in those words. Neither are the designed to punish. Oh no, Raum sees a weakness where there never was before. “Are you abandoning the Crows?” Raum asks again with a voice like lead and satin. Soft as gossamer in its tone, as resounding as a death knell with its words.
 
Was this it? The moment the Crows fell apart, the moment the murder was done.
 
Calligo chose her.
 
Still Raum does not move. Still he does not flinch. Even as his mind recalls the way his goddess peeled herself from her statue to stand before him as flesh and bone, he does not stir. Except to blink and it is a slow, slow blink – night passing to light and back again.
 
“I do not have to agree with all that my goddess does.” And oh there is something so dangerous here. A darkness, a terrifying lack of fear that has Raum standing fast beneath the chance of his goddess’ wrath. His heart is a steady drum beat – he does not fear Calligo, not any more. Love, yes, but not fear. If the Night Goddess set herself upon his punishment, it would be met with impassivity for, as Raum watches his brother (and his weaknesses), he knows there is little left for him here.
 
To lose Acton, is to be left with nothing.
 
And still Raum does not flinch, nor his heart twinge.
 
“Have you come here for Isra’s sake, or mine?” A quicksilver gaze settles like poison upon the fellow Crow. There is no ignorance in that poison gaze, he knows why Acton is here but what he does not know is where his brother’s alliances lean.

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@Acton I am rumbling! Can you feel it?!