Plurk paste

The Scholar and the Crow Prince, Vol. I

Once upon a time, in a port with no sea, a scholar walking by the river happened to see four crows flying across the sky. After a few moments, he saw three of them attack the fourth, breaking its wings and driving it to the ground.

The scholar knew this was an ill omen and that a wise man would turn away, for he was gifted with the sight and had seen many strange things indeed since arriving in the city. But the scholar also had a soft heart, and his compassion was stronger than caution. Taking pity, he chased the injured crow's attackers away and took it back to his home to nurse it back to health.

A bird is not an easy guest at the best of times, and an injured one even less so. The crow was impatient and particular with its food, and scolded the scholar as he went about his work, and was in the habit of making a roost for himself in the scholar’s linens. But by and by, they grew accustomed to each other’s companionship, though the scholar always swore the bird seemed to possess an intelligence far keener than that of any beast.

One day, the scholar came home to discover not an injured crow lying in his bed, but a man.

Quoth the scholar, “What the fuck."

The Scholar and the Crow Prince, Vol. XII

The truth laid bare: it wasn’t a crow whose life he’d saved all that time ago, but the son of a faerie, and a cruel and powerful one at that. Now he’d saved the scholar’s life in turn. As stories would have it, that should have been the end of it, all debts repaid.

In those long months since he’d saved a crow from a bush, the scholar had found kinship, but looking at the changeling in the moonlight, he found himself yearning for something more. He saw, too, that yearning reflected back, and wondered how long he had been blind to it, wondered how much more time they could have had if he had seen it sooner.

A wise man would have turned away. But when it came to his crow, the scholar knew, he had stopped being wise long ago. If he did not have the power to change his fate, if this was to be all they had, then there was no time to waste on regrets and missed chances.

The scholar let the changeling lead him back inside.

The Scholar and the Crow Prince, Vol. XIX

The crow prince’s father had torn him from the scholar’s hands, and the scholar felt his heart tear out with it. His sisters could offer him little comfort, because how could they know the depth of what had been taken? The crow had been his secret to keep, at first because he feared it would invite trouble upon them, then because it was too difficult to explain why he had not told them of him before.

The scholar’s mage-sister and the magician who’d bound his crow to his service scryed for the changeling in reflections, but found only shadows. With every failure, the scholar felt his heart clench with fear. Was this how their tale was to end? With a crow sister’s blood on his hands, the changeling lost forever?

That, he would not accept. He’d saved the crow twice now. Perhaps fate could be swayed to let him save him a third.