But Asha's questions about the tower in the forest and the strange man were to be delayed for a while yet. Sirona had not been pleased with her daughter having snuck off to get away from helping in the home for a few hours, and less so when Asha returned with the cuts on her arms. Asha had found the stone floor of her home fascinating.
“Asha, look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
She complied and met her mother’s dark-green eyes with her own. One of the other traits they shared, such as their hair, and those marked them as truly mother and daughter. Sirona sighed, arms crossed over her chest as she repeated the question her daughter clearly hadn’t heard the first time, “Where did those cuts come from?”
“I tripped…” Asha carefully replied, and her mother pressed further. “And how did you trip?”
“Over one of the big roots. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was stepping, tripped… and fell into a bush. Landed on my arms, though the bush did catch me before I actually hit the ground.”
“So it was another accident caused by distraction?”
“Yes, mother.”
Sirona exhaled softly, then lowered herself enough to look her daughter in the eyes and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“I am, it was just a fall.” Asha gave her a sure smile. “Happens all the time.”
“Far too often for my liking, though I am glad you’re back home safe,” her mother said and squeezed Asha’s shoulder before she let go and straightened her posture. “But if you think this will get you out of helping in the workshop today, you would be wrong.”
“But mother-”
“No buts about it,” Sirona cut her off, “Take care of those cuts on your arms and the one on your cheek. After that, finish the remedies I started this morning. That will be your punishment for vanishing on me, and it will keep you occupied until I have dinner ready.”
Asha gave her mother a pleading look, but Sirona was not to be moved to mercy and Asha held a crestfallen expression as she walked herself to the back workshop where her mother did all her work as an Herb Witch. She only gave a small, longing glance to the objects in the room. Things such as ordinary glass vials and herbs, and stranger items like the claws in liquids and pelts of animals she could not name. As much as curiosity demanded she stop and inspect everything on the workshop shelves, Asha had gone straight for very back of the room, where she knew the salve for cuts was. After the small ceramic jar was located, she took it, sat down on an old wooden stool, and applied the salve with a light touch. It tingled on each and every cut, and more so for the one on her cheek and Asha had needed a mirror to make sure the salve was properly applied on it.
She forced herself to ignore it, as she knew it would heal better if she didn’t bother the salve as it did its intended work. Instead, she looked around the workshop and on the other side of the table she had been using were the unfilled vials along with a small, cooled pot that constituted her punishment. Asha’s expression had become defeated at the sight of so much remaining work to be finished but moved the stool over to sit there regardless and accepted it. However, this did not mean that Asha forgot about her discovery earlier that day, an impossibility for her. Her questions burned within her mind as she worked, but was quiet. Asha didn't want to give her mother another reason to add more to her punishment before she could ask her questions.
As she filled vials with the potion from a small pot, Asha couldn't help but focus on the memory of the strange man's mismatched eyes. Even now, she could feel the depth of the sadness in them. It was only an hour or so before Asha inevitably gave in, and she took out the feather she had hidden in one of the large, sewn pockets of her dress. The feather still possessed its blue-sheen in the candlelight, and she again turned and twisted it around to see how looked with those simple changes. It enchanted her, and Asha didn’t know how long she had stared at it until she was startled by her mother, who had cleared her throat from the doorway. Asha’s shoulders dropped in guilt but turned around to face her mother. Sirona was leaning against the frame and had an expectant look as she asked, “Are you going to tell me what really happened in the Great Forest today?”
Her daughter looked quite hesitant to answer, but Sirona prompted her again.
"Asha, I could feel some kind of sadness from you since you came home. Did something happen today to make you upset?"
Asha shook her head. "No, it's someone else's sadness."
"Someone else's sadness?" Sirona sounded skeptical, "What do you mean by that?"
Her daughter shrugged. "Nothing secret about it. It's not my sadness, but his."
"And who is 'he', Asha?" Sirona was immediately concerned, and because of this Asha decided that now was likely a good time to ask her own questions and ask them carefully.
"Mama... what do you know about an old tower in the forest?"
Sirona stilled, and Asha's eyes widened in surprise as her mother then asked her in turn, "How do you know about the tower?"
"I found it," She quickly explained, "I was walking the forest when I suddenly felt very lonely, and I decided to follow it. It led me to some ruins and the tower was the most intact one."
"And where does 'he' fit into all this?"
Sirona felt that she knew what her daughter was talking about, and it only grew worse the more her daughter told her.
"Well..." Asha paused, thinking for a moment before continuing with, "He was a strange man, not like anyone here in the village."
"And what was this strange man like?"
"Strange enough to wear a cloak of feathers as black as a raven's or-"
"A crow's," Sirona quietly finished for her, "A cloak of crows’ feathers."
"That's right!" Asha exclaimed, "His cloak hid his face really well, but I could see his eyes and they were the strangest thing about him. They were two very different colors, his right eye was a really light-blue color where his left eye was like dark-hued amber."
"Different colors, hmm?" Her mother mused on her thoughts for a moment, and the longer the silence lasted, the more surprised Asha's expression became until she blurted, "Mama, do you know him?"
"Of him," Sirona replied carefully, "I don't believe you met a man at all, but a Forest God."
"Which one?"
"The Crow Lord."
Asha gave her mother an expectant look, and Sirona sighed quietly before telling the story to her daughter.
"The Crow Lord was like you and me once, mortal and unassuming. That was until he showed mercy to a raven. This was no ordinary raven, however, for its feathers were like pristine snow. It was gravely injured, and despite its strangeness, this mortal man took pity on the weakened creature and nursed the raven back to health. Fully healed, the white raven revealed himself as Corvus, the Raven God. Corvus liked this mortal man, found in him kinship, and offered ascension. The mortal man accepted his offer, finding it better than his present life and likewise found kinship with the Raven God. From then on he was the Crow Lord, made so by Corvus in his own image."
Asha was quiet as her mind digested this story, but it wasn't long before she then asked, "How do you know he wasn't born a Forest God?"
"His eyes being different colors," Sirona explained, "None of the born gods have that feature, only made ones. One is their natural eye color, and the other matches the color of the god who made them."
"I wonder which is his natural eye color..." Asha trailed off into deep, curious thought but it was abruptly interrupted by Sirona's harsh tone.
"You shouldn't be wondering about anything concerning the Forest Gods. They may look human at times, but they are anything but. We go about our business, they go about theirs, and we leave each other be."
"But the Crow Lord was human once!" Asha protested.
"Was human," Sirona emphasized, "Ascension changes one's humanity into something beyond that. He's not mortal anymore."
Asha looked down at the floor, finding it better than looking at her mother. Sirona sighed, unhappy herself that her daughter was so upset by this.
"Asha," She said softly this time, getting her daughter to look at her. "I just want you to be safe. The Forest Gods are dangerous, no matter how friendly they may seem."
Her daughter nodded, and Sirona was satisfied for now. What she couldn't know was how Asha's mind immediately thought of ways to continue visiting the ruined tower as often as she could. She couldn't forget the sadness in the Crow Lord's eyes, nor the presence of his loneliness. It was at this moment that Asha decided to become his friend, so he wouldn't be so lonely anymore.
“Asha, look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
She complied and met her mother’s dark-green eyes with her own. One of the other traits they shared, such as their hair, and those marked them as truly mother and daughter. Sirona sighed, arms crossed over her chest as she repeated the question her daughter clearly hadn’t heard the first time, “Where did those cuts come from?”
“I tripped…” Asha carefully replied, and her mother pressed further. “And how did you trip?”
“Over one of the big roots. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was stepping, tripped… and fell into a bush. Landed on my arms, though the bush did catch me before I actually hit the ground.”
“So it was another accident caused by distraction?”
“Yes, mother.”
Sirona exhaled softly, then lowered herself enough to look her daughter in the eyes and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“I am, it was just a fall.” Asha gave her a sure smile. “Happens all the time.”
“Far too often for my liking, though I am glad you’re back home safe,” her mother said and squeezed Asha’s shoulder before she let go and straightened her posture. “But if you think this will get you out of helping in the workshop today, you would be wrong.”
“But mother-”
“No buts about it,” Sirona cut her off, “Take care of those cuts on your arms and the one on your cheek. After that, finish the remedies I started this morning. That will be your punishment for vanishing on me, and it will keep you occupied until I have dinner ready.”
Asha gave her mother a pleading look, but Sirona was not to be moved to mercy and Asha held a crestfallen expression as she walked herself to the back workshop where her mother did all her work as an Herb Witch. She only gave a small, longing glance to the objects in the room. Things such as ordinary glass vials and herbs, and stranger items like the claws in liquids and pelts of animals she could not name. As much as curiosity demanded she stop and inspect everything on the workshop shelves, Asha had gone straight for very back of the room, where she knew the salve for cuts was. After the small ceramic jar was located, she took it, sat down on an old wooden stool, and applied the salve with a light touch. It tingled on each and every cut, and more so for the one on her cheek and Asha had needed a mirror to make sure the salve was properly applied on it.
She forced herself to ignore it, as she knew it would heal better if she didn’t bother the salve as it did its intended work. Instead, she looked around the workshop and on the other side of the table she had been using were the unfilled vials along with a small, cooled pot that constituted her punishment. Asha’s expression had become defeated at the sight of so much remaining work to be finished but moved the stool over to sit there regardless and accepted it. However, this did not mean that Asha forgot about her discovery earlier that day, an impossibility for her. Her questions burned within her mind as she worked, but was quiet. Asha didn't want to give her mother another reason to add more to her punishment before she could ask her questions.
As she filled vials with the potion from a small pot, Asha couldn't help but focus on the memory of the strange man's mismatched eyes. Even now, she could feel the depth of the sadness in them. It was only an hour or so before Asha inevitably gave in, and she took out the feather she had hidden in one of the large, sewn pockets of her dress. The feather still possessed its blue-sheen in the candlelight, and she again turned and twisted it around to see how looked with those simple changes. It enchanted her, and Asha didn’t know how long she had stared at it until she was startled by her mother, who had cleared her throat from the doorway. Asha’s shoulders dropped in guilt but turned around to face her mother. Sirona was leaning against the frame and had an expectant look as she asked, “Are you going to tell me what really happened in the Great Forest today?”
Her daughter looked quite hesitant to answer, but Sirona prompted her again.
"Asha, I could feel some kind of sadness from you since you came home. Did something happen today to make you upset?"
Asha shook her head. "No, it's someone else's sadness."
"Someone else's sadness?" Sirona sounded skeptical, "What do you mean by that?"
Her daughter shrugged. "Nothing secret about it. It's not my sadness, but his."
"And who is 'he', Asha?" Sirona was immediately concerned, and because of this Asha decided that now was likely a good time to ask her own questions and ask them carefully.
"Mama... what do you know about an old tower in the forest?"
Sirona stilled, and Asha's eyes widened in surprise as her mother then asked her in turn, "How do you know about the tower?"
"I found it," She quickly explained, "I was walking the forest when I suddenly felt very lonely, and I decided to follow it. It led me to some ruins and the tower was the most intact one."
"And where does 'he' fit into all this?"
Sirona felt that she knew what her daughter was talking about, and it only grew worse the more her daughter told her.
"Well..." Asha paused, thinking for a moment before continuing with, "He was a strange man, not like anyone here in the village."
"And what was this strange man like?"
"Strange enough to wear a cloak of feathers as black as a raven's or-"
"A crow's," Sirona quietly finished for her, "A cloak of crows’ feathers."
"That's right!" Asha exclaimed, "His cloak hid his face really well, but I could see his eyes and they were the strangest thing about him. They were two very different colors, his right eye was a really light-blue color where his left eye was like dark-hued amber."
"Different colors, hmm?" Her mother mused on her thoughts for a moment, and the longer the silence lasted, the more surprised Asha's expression became until she blurted, "Mama, do you know him?"
"Of him," Sirona replied carefully, "I don't believe you met a man at all, but a Forest God."
"Which one?"
"The Crow Lord."
Asha gave her mother an expectant look, and Sirona sighed quietly before telling the story to her daughter.
"The Crow Lord was like you and me once, mortal and unassuming. That was until he showed mercy to a raven. This was no ordinary raven, however, for its feathers were like pristine snow. It was gravely injured, and despite its strangeness, this mortal man took pity on the weakened creature and nursed the raven back to health. Fully healed, the white raven revealed himself as Corvus, the Raven God. Corvus liked this mortal man, found in him kinship, and offered ascension. The mortal man accepted his offer, finding it better than his present life and likewise found kinship with the Raven God. From then on he was the Crow Lord, made so by Corvus in his own image."
Asha was quiet as her mind digested this story, but it wasn't long before she then asked, "How do you know he wasn't born a Forest God?"
"His eyes being different colors," Sirona explained, "None of the born gods have that feature, only made ones. One is their natural eye color, and the other matches the color of the god who made them."
"I wonder which is his natural eye color..." Asha trailed off into deep, curious thought but it was abruptly interrupted by Sirona's harsh tone.
"You shouldn't be wondering about anything concerning the Forest Gods. They may look human at times, but they are anything but. We go about our business, they go about theirs, and we leave each other be."
"But the Crow Lord was human once!" Asha protested.
"Was human," Sirona emphasized, "Ascension changes one's humanity into something beyond that. He's not mortal anymore."
Asha looked down at the floor, finding it better than looking at her mother. Sirona sighed, unhappy herself that her daughter was so upset by this.
"Asha," She said softly this time, getting her daughter to look at her. "I just want you to be safe. The Forest Gods are dangerous, no matter how friendly they may seem."
Her daughter nodded, and Sirona was satisfied for now. What she couldn't know was how Asha's mind immediately thought of ways to continue visiting the ruined tower as often as she could. She couldn't forget the sadness in the Crow Lord's eyes, nor the presence of his loneliness. It was at this moment that Asha decided to become his friend, so he wouldn't be so lonely anymore.
