Crow Song

Part 1

Well Spring

1. Rising

The sun rose over the valley that lay at the foot of the Great Mountain and flooded the forest that grew there in a sea of light. The waters that traveled from the Great Mountain caught the light and flowed onward through the forest, splashing along creeks and streams in a moving tapestry of sparkling blue and silver, before sinking down into the land.

As the light brightened, the birds began singing, calling out to each other that the night was over and a new day had dawned. This woke the creatures that lived in the woods below, and they drank in the sound, shaking off the slumber from the night before and beginning their daily routines.

The Ancient Cedar spread its scaly leaves to gather the warm light radiating across the sky and stretched its roots to collect the cool waters flowing through the land. All along its old and scarred trunk, deeply shaded furrows shifted in the morning light. The Ancient Cedar held within it the spirits of all that had been and would be again, and they flowed along its surface in a slow and steady symmetry.

The branches of the great tree swayed in the breeze, the motion moving down the trunk, pulling roots in a long slow rhythm. The ground moved with each tug, and the forest listened to the sound of shifting stone and twisting limb. The creatures heard and called out in turn, each adding their voice to the summons, as the message moved in waves across the valley.

2. Calling

Far off and away, Crow sat on a small wooded hill and preened his feathers, preparing to see what opportunities for feeding would present themselves.

He stood and stretched out his wings, a subtle iridescence showing in the morning light, then tucked them in and gazed across the valley, striking a lordly pose. All was arrayed before him, and Crow had little reason to believe that there was anything that could stand between him and a full belly.

The ground shook under his feet, and, with an undignified squawk, Crow hopped and flapped to more stable footing. A fleshy snout poked up through the leaves, and Crow gave it a quick jab with his beak before it could dive under again. There was a short bout of angry noise as Mole clambered up through the wet foliage.

“Crow! Why’d you go and do that for? You know my snout is a sensitive thing!”

Crow smirked and gave Mole a smug look.

“I did say I’d peck you if you ever under-dug me again, didn’t I?

“That may be," Mole said, "but seeing as the old tree is calling, I should think you’d be a bit more appreciative of the disturbance!”

Crow cocked his head to the side and listened. The drifting sound of the Ancient Cedar could just barely be heard under the cacophonous dawn chorus, but, more importantly, there was a subtle, steady pulse coming from the ground below. Crow shuddered, and a sudden urgency gripped him.

“I have to go." He said. "Sorry for the peck.”

Mole smiled. “It's fine. This snout of mine is as tough as any found on a winged squirrel like you.”

“Winged Squirrel!?”

Crow lunged at Mole to nip him once more, but the clawed digger was below the turf in a flash. Vowing to get even later, Crow spread his wings and hopped into the air, flying through the dawn's warm rays and heading toward the looming form of the Ancient Cedar.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Raven was perched on the branch of a nearby maple when Crow arrived, and Crow wasted no time in greeting her.

“Good morning cousin! How are you on this fine early dawn?”

Raven did not respond, only stared ahead as Crow landed gracefully on the branch next to her. Her deep plumage swallowed the light, shifting in purple iridescence. She was an ominous presence in the otherwise bright morning.

When she did speak, it was with a deep, croaking voice that carried the weight of many years.

“The Great One will speak with you, cousin. Be aware that what you experience will change things for you. In a very powerful way.”

Raven spread her wings and glided silently to the base of the Ancient Cedar. Then, turning and staring up at Crow, she called out in a booming voice that resonated through the trees.

“THE CARRIER HAS COME!”

Crow was suddenly aware that the forest had gone silent. This was to be expected. Raven was the guardian of spirits. She was the gateway of life and death, but there was something strange in this moment that unsettled Crow.

The Ancient Cedar creaked and moaned as it was swayed by the force of something more than just the passing breeze.

Raven spoke again, but in a voice very different from the one before.

“I AM THAT WHICH GOVERNS THE VALLEY. I AM THE STONE AND THE STREAM. I AM THE WIND THROUGH THE LEAVES, THE WARMTH OF THE SUN, THE LIGHT OF DAY AND THE DARK OF NIGHT. I AM ONE, AND I AM ALL, AND I CALL UPON YOU, CROW, TRAVELER AND MESSENGER OF THE FOREST, TO SERVE. RAVEN HAS REACHED THE END OF HER JOURNEY AND MUST DRINK OF THE WATER FROM THE WELL SPRING THAT FLOWS THROUGH ALL LIFE. YOU WILL JOURNEY TO THE SOURCE, SO HER SPIRIT MAY RETURN AND BE BORN AGAIN.”

Crow sat stunned as the words, spoken through Raven, filled his mind. When Raven had finished, Crow could only stare at her in disbelief.

“Cousin, is this real? Have you truly reached the end of your days?

“Yes. It is real. My time is over, and, for the forest to continue, I must die.”

“But who will carry your spirit to...”

Crow didn't finish his thought as the meaning of the words struck him.

“No! I can't do it! I'm only a messenger! Ask anyone else, please, but not me!”

“It must be you, Crow.”

Crow fell silent. Crow could travel, but he had never crossed the threshold of life and death. That was Raven's domain. He didn't even know where to begin!

Raven whispered her final words.

“It is time.”

Her eyes shut, and she collapsed, her last breath leaving her body. Crow gasped and felt the spirit of Raven enter him. His chest suddenly felt heavy, and he sank onto the branch where he perched.

His eyes closed. His breathing became labored. Images flashed through his mind: a falling log, a sparkling creek, a darkening wood, a wall of ice, and a dark tunnel, leading deep into a mountain, guarded by a shadow. Before he lost conscious, he heard a voice, both distant and familiar.

“Your Journey Begins.”

3. Seeking

Crow was flying. It seemed like he had been flying all morning, and now, he was getting hungry.

He didn't know for sure where he was going. He had only the brief visions to guide him, and, while the dawn's light made the spring air bright and refreshing, the weight of his body was a burden that made flying difficult.

Perhaps, he thought, a good meal would help.

As he drifted down into the trees to look for food, he spotted a red shape crouching near a stand of bushes, extremely intent on something inside. Crow sensed an opportunity for a good meal and swooped in to investigate.

He saw the white, furry form of Rabbit in the shrubs, still as a stone, and the agile figure of Fox prowling around the perimeter, clearly intent on catching a meal for himself. He could tell that the rustling leaves told Rabbit that Fox was near, but so long as she didn’t move or twitch a single muscle, Fox wouldn’t know where to pounce.

Fox got closer, sniffing about for Rabbit’s scent. She barely drew breath and didn’t move. Fox launched into the bushes and snapped his jaws, but still, she didn’t move. Rabbit seemed to know that Fox couldn’t see her, didn’t know where she was, and all she had to do was be still.

Crow flapped his wings loudly and called down to Fox.

“CAW! What are you doing Fox?”

“Shut Up, Crow!”

“CAW! What did you say?”

“I’m hunting Rabbit you stupid bird, now shut your beak or I’ll be hunting YOU!”

Crow stopped cawing and turned his head one way and then the other. He looked about the forest, then looked at Rabbit, then at Fox, and then back at Rabbit.

“You seem like you could use some help.” Crow remarked.

“I don’t need your help you waste of feathers.” Fox snapped back.

Crow ignored the comment. “I really feel like we could help each other.”

Fox ignored Crow. He crouched and peered into the bushes where Rabbit was hiding. Rabbit didn’t twitch a single muscle, only looked nervously ahead.

“Really, you can trust me.” Crow said more softly this time.

“HA! And what would be in it for you?” Fox sneered.

Although it seemed impossible, Rabbit tensed even more. Crow thought a moment.

“I get half.”

Fox stood and looked at Crow with a suspicious squint. He sat back on his haunches and seemed to consider his options.

Crow looked at Fox, then at Rabbit.

“Deal.” Fox said.

Rabbit twitched her ears.

Crow flapped down into the bushes and landed on Rabbit, who startled and bolted away from Fox.

Fox gave chase, sprinting rapidly after her.

Rabbit zigzagged back and forth through the under brush, trying to keep Fox from getting close while Crow flew in front of and above her, cawing loudly as she ran. It was only a matter of seconds before she was ripped apart.

Suddenly, Crow flew under an old dead log leaning against a rotten tree and knocked a small branch loose. The heavy log creaked and came crashing down just as Rabbit ran under it.

Loose debris and wood-dust scattered in a cloud, and Crow chortled at the grisly sight.

“And now to collect my share!” He gleefully proclaimed as he glided down to where the log had fallen and started picking at the red bits of meat sticking out.

“Go ahead and take all of it.”

Crow looked up from his gruesome feast.

“I was hoping you'd say that. Best deal I’ve made yet!”

Crow went back to picking at Fox’s corpse while Rabbit watched.

“Why are you here?” Rabbit asked.

Crow stopped eating and looked up at Rabbit. There was something about the way that Rabbit was looking at Crow that gave him pause.

“Well," Crow mumbled, "I couldn't miss an opportunity to outwit a clever animal like Fox as well as get a full meal.”

“Honestly?”

Crow remembered the falling log and a voice suddenly rose up from deep within him and burst forth.

“I Carry the Spirit of Raven, Guardian of Spirits and Keeper of the Gateway of Life and Death. I Will Journey to Where the Waters of the Well Spring Flow and Return Raven, So She May Be Reborn!”

Crow collapsed as the last words left him. He breathed heavily and felt as though his body had been drained of all energy. Rabbit moved closer and spoke in a voice very different from the one she used before.

“Be Honest, Crow”

Crow's eyes grew heavy and the sight of Rabbit hopping away was the last he saw before falling into darkness.

4. Dreaming

Crow opened his eyes to the sun's rays weaving lines of light and shadow over his face. Above him the deep green canopy was an ocean of emerald and gray.

The blue sky heralded another glorious summer day and Crow was eager to venture out in search of food. A thought in the back of his head tried to get his attention, but Crow couldn't recall a more beautiful day, so he quickly pushed the thought aside as he let the relaxing feelings wash over him.

The ferns and flowers were in full splendor as Crow glided gently through the air beneath the lush canopy. Never before had he experienced such a wondrous feeling. Each beat of his wings was smooth and easy, each breath filled with the scent and weight of rich life. As he dipped down to the forest floor to look for feeding opportunities, he heard the sound of a gentle brook gurgling nearby.

Crow suddenly realized how thirsty he was and flew closer for a drink.

The water was clear and cool and sparkled in the sunlight.

Crow dipped his beak and drank deeply, and the water immediately quenched his thirst.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Crow stopped drinking and froze in place.

“You must have traveled a far way to be so thirsty.”

Crow's eyes rolled in his head as he tried to find the source of the sound. He tried to flap his wings, to move his legs, anything, but all he could feel was the beating of his heart, thumping loudly in his chest.

“I'm sure you thought it was funny, your neat little trick. Of course, you were always a little trickster weren't you?”

Crow was becoming frantic with fear now. The voice was coming closer and it was clear that it was not the voice of a friend.

“You trick, and you lie, and you make clever excuses, but there is no running or hiding here. Not from me.”

Across the brook, a shadow broke free from the underbrush. Crow's eyes followed it in disbelief as it took on a solid shape.

“You thought you could outwit me! You thought, 'oh! Look at that fool! I'll trick him and take what isn't mine!'”

Crow tried to gulp, but still his body refused to obey. As the form moved further into the light, it became outlined and colored. The shadow became more solid. Black pointed ears and a red snout appeared. Next, there came a long, sinuous body supported by graceful legs and ending in a fiery tail with a white tip. The face was an angry scowl, sharp teeth showing white and yellow in the sun's bright rays.

“You thought you could just kill and eat me!?!”

Fox leaped across the stream and landed in front of Crow. His nose was pressed to Crow's beak. Fear washed over Crow to the point of crushing his mind away.

Fox sneered and moved around him.

“Look at you. You're pathetic. How could the Great Tree have chosen YOU to carry Raven's spirit?”

Fox's words pierced into Crow, doing more damage than tooth or claw.

“Surprised? I'm not. Not even disappointed, really. It's who you are. First chance you get and you're napping away. Playing in the dream world rather than serving your duty. Tricky little bird.”

Crow glanced around. The trees moved and darkened, but there was no wind. The grasses and flowers became bleak, dead, and brown. The water was suddenly muddy and, as Crow watched in horror, turned a bloody red.

“Oh look! The silly little bird gets it!”

Crow began to struggle even more, desperate to get away from the taunting Fox.

“That's right, Crow, run away. Run away like you've run away so many times before.”

Crow felt his body release from whatever force held it, and he flapped to get away. He crashed once to the ground and stopped, breathing raggedly. He looked up and saw the summer sun sparkling off the now blue waters of the creek. The thought of Raven and the Ancient Cedar, and what he must do came to him, and he felt a rush of power fill him.

“No.” Crow whispered.

“What was that little bird?” Fox snarled.

“NO!”

Crow turned and flew at Fox, talons out and wings beating madly, voice screaming in defiance. Fox snarled and yelped, twisting about trying to snap Crow out of the air. Crow struck back, acting out of pure rage, attacking again and again. Cawing loudly and darting in and out of Fox's reach, nipping and pecking and scratching.

“I’m more than what you name me! I will carry Raven to the source! I will not fail!”

Fox dodged and dipped, turning one way, then the other. He jumped across the creek, gave Crow one last snarl and vanished into the shadows where he had first emerged. A voice, different and familiar, drifted back as the white tip of his tail disappeared from sight.

“Have Courage, Crow.”

Crow breathed raggedly, his whole body heaving. He began to relax and felt himself let go, falling to the ground, exhausted. The voice spoke to him again as he once more slipped into unconsciousness.

“It will only get harder.”

5. Falling

The sun was close to the horizon when Crow opened his eyes again. The long rays of light that speared through the canopy were red-orange beams, and the leaves of the great maples took on the same fiery hue. A passing breeze shook the tree crowns and sent a cascade of color tumbling toward the earth below. Crow dodged them, managing to find some shelter under a bush's tangled branches, until the barrage of red, yellow, and gold-orange leaves settled down around him.

Crow was exhausted. Spring and Summer had already passed and Crow wasn't even sure how much farther he had to travel, couldn't even remember traveling. He just wanted this whole journey to be over. There had to be a faster route to the Well Spring than the one he was taking. He was Crow, after all, and, as it was said, it's a short trip as Crow flies.

Crow looked at the canopy over head. The summer must have been a good one, there was hardly any room to fly between the thick branches, but if Crow could maneuver through them, he could just fly straight to the mountain without having to weave his way between the trees.

The thought gave Crow some energy and it wasn't long before he was flapping from branch to branch up into the tree tops. As he got closer to the top the branches became thicker and more difficult to move through, but Crow was eager for a short cut and wasted no time pushing past them.

Crow broke through the last of the branches and flapped high into the clear blue sky. He looked into the distance and spotted the mountain. It was closer than he thought! Crow laughed loudly, swooping in loops through the air. Soon this journey would be done and he could go home and would never have to travel so far again.

Crow glanced toward the shaded sun, which glowed as a dim circle behind the clouds. The clouds moved and the sudden light struck Crow in the eyes, blinding him for a wing's beat. He blinked and there was a black speck that was getting bigger, fast.

Very fast.

A scream filled the air.

Hawk's talons ripped through Crow’s right wing. The impact sent him crashing down into the canopy below.

Crow slammed into the branches of the great maples. He tumbled down in a flurry of loose feathers and falling leaves, colliding with the thick wood and sharp twigs that filled the canopy. Crow was dazed and just barely felt each impact as he went, until he crashed hard on the ground and became buried by falling leaf debris. His body burned with pain and he could not see but for the blurred visions of red and gold.

He waited, breathing harshly and trying desperately to recover his wits. His breath began to slow and the pain receded. After some time, only his wing throbbed from the gash made by Hawk's sharp talons. Crow moved his wing and felt a fresh wave of agony sweep through him. As he blinked away the pain, he realized he couldn't fly.

Crow couldn't fly. He began to panic. He needed to fly. He needed to get out of these woods as fast as possible. Hawk wouldn't just give up on the kill. Hawk had sharp eyes and excellent hearing and would search out Crow in no time at all. Crow needed to fly away now!

A leaf dropped from the branches above, and Crow froze. He slowly turned his head to the side and looked up.

Gripping the branch of a maple with sharp, powerful talons. Hawk swept the forest floor with a hard gaze, searching.

Crow gulped and fought the urge to flap his wings and escape. He couldn't fly, so he would have to find another way. Crow folded his wings in, ignoring the screaming pain. It was agonizingly slow, but if he rushed, Hawk would be on him in a second.

Crow wanted to leap out then, to call to Hawk and just have it be done, but if he did that, Raven would never make it to the Well Spring and be reborn. The animal's spirits would have no one to carry them to the source and would be forever trapped in their bodies, even after death. A horrifying thought, especially since it meant Crow would be trapped in his own body as well.

Hawk flew gracefully to a new branch and turned around. The branches made it difficult to fly any distance, and the old leaves created shadows that appeared as prey as they fell. Crow watched and waited. He noticed the shadows growing long and realized the sun wasn't rising; it was setting. It wasn't long before dark, and if Crow stayed on the ground, he would be an easy meal for the creatures that wandered the woods at night.

He could wait until his wing healed up enough to fly, but he needed someplace that he could rest safely while he did so. He needed to find cover. He needed a boundary between the forest and beyond, a place somewhere in between.

The mountain was near, and the cover between the lower slopes and the forest edge was better than what Crow had at the moment. Crow breathed deeply and resolved himself to moving under the leaves. Keeping an eye out for Hawk, He started moving.

The going was slow, and Crow was not a patient bird. Every time he tried to make a way for himself, he would get poked in the eye or stuck on a twig. It was frustrating to have to move so slowly and awkwardly.

Perhaps Hawk would get bored and fly off.

After crawling for what seemed like a great distance, Crow finally lost patience and pushed up to the surface.

He eyed the trees and didn't see any sign of Hawk. It would be much easier to move on top of the leaves, and, with no sign of Hawk, Crow didn't want to waste any more time beneath them. He shook the remaining leaves off and turned his head to preen his feathers.

A shadow blocked the light.

Hawk struck again, ripping through Crow's left wing and sending him tumbling through the foliage once more before soaring back up into the canopy above. The searing pain flamed through Crow's body, and he lost himself in it. When he came back, he was buried under the leaves again, and now both of his wings were useless.

He lay beneath the leaves and wanted to give up. He was scared of getting hurt again. He thought about everything he had left behind for this journey. He wished he could just surrender to it all and stop.

Then, he remembered the creek and the taunting words of Fox, and he felt angry for wanting to quit, for wanting to turn back out of fear.

Crow breathed a heavy breath, calmed himself, and concentrated. He pulled his wings in. The pain was intense and threatened to overwhelm him once more, but he managed to tuck his wings next to his body and hold them there. The throbbing ache matched his heartbeat as he considered his situation.

The sun was setting. It would be dark soon. Hawk was watching for him. He would have to move very slowly and carefully under the leaves. He would need to move surely, but he couldn't rush. He had to stay calm, stay steady, move slow and easy.

He began.

He kept his eyes closed. He moved his beak ahead, shifting twigs and leaves out of the way one by one. He found a slow and steady rhythm. Time took on a new meaning as the darkness made it impossible to tell how far the sun had set. He thought of Mole and how much he would find this funny, Crow digging through the leaves. It made him happy to think of his friend, and he chuckled. He forgot his pain and moved steadily along the forest floor.

His beak pushed a leaf out of the way and he felt cold air. He breathed it in and opened his eyes. He was past the edge of the woods. The sun was almost fully set and the last rays were climbing to the tree tops.

He looked back at the canopy and spotted Hawk watching him.

“Patience, Crow”

Hawk turned and glided silently into the darkening woods.

Crow stared for a long time before nodding his head and turning toward the mountain.

6. Burning

Crow dragged his wings through the snow, leaving twin trails behind him. He had walked away from the woods toward the mountain as the sun set and the night slowly filled the sky with stars. The snow had just started falling, heralding winter, and it swirled around Crow in the wind.

Every step Crow took toward the mountain seemed to pull the moon higher into the sky. The higher the moon rose, the more the snow fell and the stronger the wind blew, and Crow was soon lost in a pale sparkling world.

Crow walked and walked, unable to see before him, and unwilling to turn back. His wings were injured and his spirit was all but extinguished. He couldn't remember what he was there to do. Something about Raven and a Well Spring? He tried to remember, but when he stopped, the cold cut through him, and the pain in his wings drove him to start walking again.

So he walked.

He came to a frozen river and stopped. He would freeze to death. He knew this. He knew he would die. He would freeze to death and he would be lost forever. He settled down into the snow and prepared himself for the cold embrace that would take the final breath from his lungs.

His breathe began to slow.

His eyes became heavy.

The world around him shrank down to a spark of light.

The spark pulsed.

It grew.

Crow opened his eyes, looked up, and saw a figure moving towards him. The snow swirled around it in a white dome of crystal flakes. It was massive, yet moved gracefully over the frozen waters, its long legs stretching out and covering the distance on large splayed hooves. Its body and throat were covered with a thick, pure white fur that caught flakes of ice and held them. Its snout was wet and a thick tongue darted out and lapped frost crystals from its muzzle. Antlers reached to the sky from the crown of its head.

Elk looked down at Crow and snorted.

The warm breath draped over Crow and he felt himself stir. The long antlers came down and scooped him up, shaking the snow from him and rolling him gently to Elk's shoulders. Crow shifted and tucked himself against the huge creature, feeling a warmth spreading through him and all but forgetting the pain in his wings. Elk slowly turned his head and began to walk toward the mountain.

Crow felt the warmth of Elk sooth him and ease his pain. He had been so tired, and now, it was as though all of his cares were nothing but the worries of someone from another place and time.

Only the journey mattered now.

The moon was at its peak when Elk stopped walking. Crow opened his eyes to see where they had traveled and saw a canyon before him. Elk lowered his head and Crow tumbled out into the soft snow. He fluffed his feathers against the wind blowing from between the rock walls and experienced only a small pain before the numbing cold gripped him. He watched snow drift in loose waves over the frozen river that wound out from the stony passage.

He turned back to thank Elk for carrying him, but he was alone. The only tracks were two long trails in the snow that soon disappeared in the blowing wind. There was no sign that Elk had ever been there. Crow gazed into the distance, looking for any trace of the large creature.

The wind died.

Crow noticed the change and turned back to the canyon. His wings hung loosely at his side and his body and mind were past their limits, but he felt a warmth in his chest spread through him, invigorating his senses and driving him forward. He stepped between the canyon walls and found that a large open space lay beyond them.

The frozen river flowed from a frozen pool that climbed the stones in front of Crow in a sparkling wall of ice. The moon struck the wall with a pale light that splintered and shone in a thousand directions. Crow stepped calmly up to the frosted surface and breathed in deeply.

He felt the warmth turn into a fire.

He blew the warm air from his body, and, as his breath touched the wall, the ice slipped and flowed down to the ground. The wall became smooth and clear and Crow could see himself reflected in the mirrored surface. He was dirty and shaggy, and blood and ice covered him from beak to tail. He was a half-dead thing desperately clinging to the last scraps life.

But in his eyes, a fire burned.

He felt a presence behind him. He knew who was there and did not turn, seeing, instead, the form reflected in the wall before him.

“Thank you.”

Elk was silent. Crow felt the fire fill him. He knew he would finish his journey and spoke in a voice he now recognized as his own.

“I have Strength, and I will use it.”

The wall broke and fell apart, reveling a tunnel that led into the mountain.

Crow stepped into the darkness.

7. Breaking

The light from outside washed away as it filtered through the tunnel and fell upon the dirt walls. The air was cold and damp. It smelled of old, broken stone and was a weight on Crow. He stepped forward, slowly and surely.

The tunnel sloped down, and, as Crow went further and further, the walls became more cramped, the air more stale, and the light weaker, until Crow had to probe where he was going with his beak, careful of sudden drops and snagging stones. He felt furrows in the walls where something had been shifting and clawing, and he knew he wasn't the first down this tunnel. Something was waiting for him. Crow was honest, accepted his fear, and, with courage and patience, he continued.

The tunnel led Crow to a crack in the mountain that stretched up to the peak, and down into a deep abyss. The sky was a dark scar against the moon lit stone, and the walls were painted in shades of light and shadow that constantly shifted as Crow gazed upon them. The only crossing was a jagged rock that had broken off from the mountain and fallen into the crack, making a natural bridge worn smooth by time. Crow gazed across the bridge to the entrance of the mountain and the source of the Well Spring

There, the moonlight revealed a flat platform and a round hole beyond the bridge, opening into the mountain. Standing on the platform before the hole, wrapped in shadows, a figure waited.

Crow took a step forward, and the figure took a step forward. Crow stepped back, and the figure did the same. Crow turned his head to try and see more of the figure, but the figure followed his movements and remained hidden in the shadows.

“I will cross.” Crow said, his voice betraying his uncertainty.

“You will try.” The figure said, its voice a hollow reflection of Crow's.

Crow stepped forward more boldly, his feet scratching the stone. The figure made no move this time.

Crow stepped again, walking halfway across the bridge. Still the figure did not move.

Crow hesitated, and the bridge cracked. Stone fell away and Crow dropped to the rock's surface. The crack began to spread, and Crow saw the figure step forward. A long claw emerged from the shadows. The figure raised the claw up and held it there. Crow tucked his legs under and pushed out his wings, ignoring the pain that suddenly crashed into him. The claw fell and the bridge crumbled and broke apart. Crow lunged for the edge, snapping back his wings as he pushed against the falling bridge.

He struck the edge with his feet and tumbled across, landing in a heap on the other side. His wings were useless, the final push ripping muscle and breaking bone. He would never fly again.

The figure stepped toward him and Crow prepared to feel the long claw fall on him with the certainty of death. The light danced against the towering walls as the shadow reached forward and Crow saw the face within it.

Crow smiled and suddenly struck at the figure, pecking hard.

The figure stumbled back and fell into the light with a sound of muffled cursing.

“That was for the winged squirrel comment.” Crow chuckled.

Mole clambered to his feet and pointed a clawed finger at Crow.

“That was a dirty little trick! I knew you weren't really giving up! I was just trying to make sure you didn't need a hand after your stunt!”

Crow laughed then, loud and deep. It rumbled through him and carried away all the fear and exhaustion he had been holding onto, leaving behind only joy and relief. He had missed his friend and was glad to see him once more. Even the pain from his wings was overcome with his mirth.

“I suppose you think this here is a real funny situation, huh? Stabbing me in the snout then flopping around like a landed fish? You're a real funny wad of feathers and foul deeds, you are.”

Crow's laughter turned to a small snickering and he tried to stand. The pain was intense, but not enough to keep him down. He rose and felt a small sadness as his wings remained broken by his sides. He tried to move them and experienced an immense pain.

As his vision cleared he saw Mole standing over him.

“Wow. That was an impressive display of downright foolishness.”

“Some would call it courageous.” Crow responded weakly.

“They're not here, so we'll stick with foolish.” Mole said as he pushed Crow up onto his feet. “Better to just let them hang, you don't have much further now.

“What do you mean? I thought this was it.”

“Not quite.”

Crow looked toward the dark hole in the mountain. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He stood tall and firm, and though his wings hung loose by his sides, he was strong and self possessed.

“I'm ready.”

Mole stepped away from the tunnel entrance, opening the path for Crow to step forward. Crow moved to cross into the portal when a clawed hand stopped him.

“One more thing before you go.” Mole lowered his paw and met Crow's gaze with his own. His eyes shifted in focus and Crow saw himself within them.

“Laughter fills you. Share it with the world.”

Mole turned his back, walking to the edge where the bridge once stood. Then, he stepped over, fading into the abyss. Crow watched as his friend left, knowing that Mole had never truly been there. He turned back to the entrance of the source and breathed a final farewell.

“I will.”

Crow stepped through.

8. Waking

Crow was walking in shadows.

Behind him, the light from the tunnel faded and disappeared.

Time slowed and followed the light, losing all meaning.

Now, Crow drifted.

With nothing to grasp onto, his mind struggled to exist. He soon forgot where he was and how he had gotten there. He forgot his travels and what he had experienced. He began to lose his feeling of self.

His body wasn't a part of him. His mind was fading fast. There was no pain or fear, no anger or joy.

There was only a gentle calm.

As Crow drifted further into oblivion, he felt a weight lift from within him. A small mote of light wavered uncertainly before him, whatever Him was, and coasted on an invisible stream of energy. It bobbed and wandered aimlessly. Crow watched it, the only change in an otherwise continuous state of nothing.

The mote of light began to pulse, and its form grew and radiated a gentle warmth. It spread long tendrils of light in all directions. The light expanded into a woven tapestry of moving energy. Figures danced across its surface as it spread throughout and encompassed all. It took on form, changing shape, then collapsing in on itself, before growing once more.

This time, the long tendrils stretched and became branches and roots, and images flashed and moved with greater definition along their bright surface. Scaled Leaves of golden light sprouted and expanded. The leaves turned to feathers, and the branches into wings, and the light became Raven.

She reached out to the consciousness that watched her.

AWAKEN!

The light exploded into infinity.

9. Seeing

Crow opened his eyes.

He stared into the well lit canopy of the forest he recognized as home. He let out the breath he'd been holding and stretched out his wings.

His wings.

He turned and looked at each of them, drinking in the sight and feel of them. They were perfectly fine. He flapped them gently and felt the cool morning breeze blow through them. They felt strong. He knew he could fly with them and reveled in the gift of them, but he did not feel the need to soar just yet.

He tucked them back in and looked out over the forest, truly seeing it for the first time.

Far above the canopy, the clouds rolled between currents of air, growing and drifting across the endless sky, making the rain and shadows of day. The leaves of the trees were the same and different, each distinct and similar to thousands more, each grown specifically for the place they existed, each perfect in their creation. The shadows and songs of birds darted through out, and the call of the wild creatures rang with the sounds of fear, anger, pain and joy, blending with the noise of the running brook and rocking branch. Drops of dew, hanging to the cool underside of ferns and flowers twisted the world in liquid vision. Inside each, a smaller world was reflected back, a unique perspective through a thousand jeweled eyes. Insects and creatures smaller than could be seen spread out in all directions, each creating small changes that, together, moved mountains, guided rivers, and brought about the destruction and recreation of countless lives. He saw himself as a part of if, holding a place that he had grown into, and now, had returned.

As one, the forest lived.

Crow sensed a presence nearby and did not need to look to know who stood beside him.

“Hello, cousin.” He said.

“Hello, Crow.”

Raven settled on the branch. Her deep plumage swallowed the light around her, shifting in purple iridescence. The two stood quietly and gazed upon the living valley.

“How can it be so obvious, and so well hidden.”

“What is it you speak of, little bird.”

Crow smirked at the title “little bird,” truly realizing how small he was.

“You are very clever, cousin.”

Raven only stared ahead, giving no sign of acknowledgment.

“I speak of the source, the Well Spring, the purpose of it all.”

“Well, it helps to be clever...”

At this Raven hinted toward a smile, but Crow only stared ahead.

“...as it does to be honest, and courageous, and patient...”

“...and strong?” Crow interrupted.

“It is whatever you make it, Crow. It is as obvious or well hidden as you choose. Some can't live with such a scope of vision, and many choose to create visions of their own. Some accept it and find themselves happier for it, and a few simply quit, having done all they needed or wanted. Regardless of the choice, all paths lead back to the source. You have journeyed to the source, and the experiences you have had are your's to take or leave as you will. This is the gift and the burden. The choice is your's, and your's alone.”

“That is a great and terrible responsibility.” Crow felt more so than ever before.

“That is life.” Raven said softly.

The two watched as the wind began to blow more strongly through the trees.

“Of course,” Raven spoke, lifting her head and smiling serenely.

“It helps to laugh.

Raven spread her wings and dropped from the branch. Crow watched as she gently glided through the woods, silent and certain.

Crow spread his wings and followed. The air slipped over and between his feathers. It was a feeling he thought he would never again experience. The ground below blurred past and the trees darted around him as he flew faster and faster.

He was catching up to Raven when she suddenly turned hard and fast up through the branches. He followed quickly, losing sight of her as she wove between the dense leaves. He flew confidently through them, seeing them move, sensing the flow of the wind and the gaps in the branches. He felt his cousin within him then, knowing the secret of their bond. Crow reached inside himself and felt a surge of energy pulse through him. He pushed past the last of the reaching limbs and was bathed in the light of the rising sun.

The wind blew strong and steady, and Crow floated gently on the breeze. He thought of Raven and felt a warmth in his chest, then turned toward the sun and the deep green of his home.

The warmth and the light and the joy of flight filled Crow, and he felt a deep rumble of rapture rush through him. He let it burst forth and rolled in loops and turns and spinning drops. He flapped his wings and shot up into the air, and, soaring high above the valley, Crow shared his laughter with the world.

10. Flowing

The sunlight struck the highest peak of the mountain that overlooked the valley. The rays broke against the frosted peaks, and fell down along the snowy sides. The air warmed, and the ice melted into gentle drops that fell between cracks in the stone. The water flowed deep into the mountain, gathering the long sleeping minerals, and carried them through dark tunnels carved in the rock. It poured through the side of the mountain and pooled in canyons carved by time and the elements. The wind stirred it, and it moved in a long sinuous course through the hills and plains, and where it sank into the soil, life emerged, and the forest began.

The forest became thicker as the water flowed farther and deeper. Long tap roots reached down and drew it from the earth. The water moved up trunks and pushed out into leaves before steaming off into the sunlight. The Ancient Cedar drank the water, tasted the light, and the shadows, and the journey from one to the other. The water flowed through it, and the furrows along its surface shifted in the broken light of the morning sun. The Ancient Cedar stretched out its leaves and felt the light wash over the valley; while high above, a shadow drifted on the breeze, and the caw of a crow was carried away by the wind.