Fifth Gemstone

Crow makes a frustrated noise as he struggles to get the blood out his eyes. His vision is clouded and his mind still fogged over but he shoves himself forward anyways. That’s when he sees the murder. He swallows a shocked cry. Sleek black feathers and round red eyes meet his own. Then the world is twisting and he can see an alleyway ahead through eyes that are not his own. The way the ground feels like its falling away is familiar but the trust rising in his chest is new.

He runs forward, following the image. As soon as he’s safe in the shadows he finally allows himself to crash as angry shouts and the gleam of sharp blades pass him by. Collapsing against the cold stone walls and sliding down, Crow throws an arm over his eyes and tries to calm his breathing. He feels lucky to have evaded the guards for this long but he’s getting tired. With the blood out of his eyes he can look up now and he spares a moment to check the sky. Somehow its already morning. The sky is clear and blue, not a cloud in sight.

A memory overlays it as the murder arrives, filling the area around him.

The last time he’d looked up at the sky like this they were there too. Crowded on the long electrical lines and perched on nearby trees and building roofs. Their mournful caws had filled the air as he bled out from a stab wound, shadowed by the rapidly darkening clouds. He doesn’t know how they followed him from one life to the other but as the birds swoop down to press their cool beaks against his wounds and soft feathers brush comfortingly across his face, he finds that he doesn’t mind at all.

He wishes he had something to share with them. They would have loved the drawers of jewels and gems he once owned, he thinks, slightly delirious. It’s not like he can go back for them though so for now he allows them to see his eyes and they caw in excitement at the gleam. It’s easy to see where his love for shiny things comes from as the crows take turns peering into his eyes and making approving chirps.

Crow notices a lone bird, the one with the red eyes, hanging back. It fluffs up its feathers and as their eyes meet, another image forces its way into his mind. He doubles over with a gasp, eyes stinging with sudden pain. The crow hops forward and runs an apologetic beak through his hair as he tries to make sense of the image. A ball of light cracking under the weight of darkness. He doesn’t understand what it means but when he opens his eyes the crow is watching him, worried. He runs a gentle hand through its feathers and it relaxes. Crow smiles.

The memory of the prince and his bloodsoaked feathers knocks that smile right off his face.

Using the wall as a support, Crow manages to get on his feet. The murder closes ranks around him. Crow sighs, hope flickering in his chest once more. He’s not alone now at least. The world feels less narrow and confined than it did just a few hours ago. He pushes himself further and walks deeper into the alley. The festival is tonight. Soon the streets will be filled with all sorts of people, not just winged folk. He’ll be able to blend in if he tries hard enough.

Crow tugs at his clothing in discomfort as he walks. The Heavenly City is populated almost exclusively by winged folk but with its gates open for the festival, all sorts of people will be arriving. He’ll need to wear something that covers the protrusion of his wings. Sheltered as he was, even Crow knows this: anyone with wings like his wouldn’t dare to be out in public. Even without the outstanding circumstances, he’d still try his best to keep them hidden.

Which is why he ducks into a clothing store as soon as the crows give him an all clear. Its small and messy, hidden under a shadowed overpass besides a series of other shops, leaning against each other. The woman working there barely glances at him, smoke rising from the pipe between her lips. Her eyes are milk pale and her pointed ears are adorned with piercings made of glass. She waves a hand at his clothing.

“I’ll buy those off you for what they’re worth,” she says in a hoarse drawl. She points at the blood staining his sleeves and shakes her head, taking another puff. “That’ll never come off but it gives them a nice look, don’t it boy? Royal blood shines so pretty.”

Crow flinches. She cackles and licks her lips, a sharp-toothed smile spreading across her face. He eyes the shop’s crooked door and she snorts. “I’m not after you, bird boy. Change those clothes and get gone. You’re bringing shadows into my store and I’ve got enough of those already.”

Crow listens and gets gone as soon as he’s able to. The second he steps outside a gust of wind screeches past him and slams the door shut. It was already crooked, but as it bangs closed one of the hinges completely gives out. The door falls down. He backs away slowly. A shout comes from within the store.

“Out boy!”

He backs away faster.

When he’s far enough away to see how the other shopowners saunter out to check the damage, curious but wary of the noise, he breathes a spell into the wind. There was no rage or hatred around the shopowner for darkness to latch onto but she was right about the shadows. As the spell takes hold, they pour out into the ground like gray fog, rolling forward. As they come closer to Crow they grow more playful, tugging at the frayed bottoms of his cloak to get his attention. With a quiet sigh, he disperses them.

Crow takes a deep breath as he reaches the end of the alleyways and walks forward, melting into the crowd. He hopes the shopkeep will feel lighter from now on.

It’s the least he can do.