Raven Saga 01 - Raven

would also find out why he had deserted me and left me in the hands of an evil witch.
    I pulled my legs up to my chest and rested my head on my knees and before I could stop myself, I began to cry. I cried for Gabriel, I cried for my father and I cried for me. I knew I could escape but I was so scared that Gabriel would end up dead if I did.
    That's when I heard the sound from outside. A soft cooing noise that reminded me of something. The owl. It was the sound of an owl hooting, the same sound I had heard the night before. I recalled how the bird had watched me but had then looked away and flown off into the distance. And then again, while Charlie had been dragging me to the cave, I had seen it but it hadn't taken much notice of me. It was a soothing sound but that's all it was.
    The sound, however, began to get a little louder and then there was silence. As I looked towards the entrance to the cave, I could just about see it perched on the branch of a tree close by. It was looking towards me.
    There were a couple of birds circling above the owl and I gasped when I recognised what they were. Ravens. Charlie looked over at me suspiciously and I coughed to try and hide my surprise. He stood and walked around the cage, before he returned to sit down and just as he let down his guard to relax a little, one of the ravens flew into the cave as quietly as possible. He didn't notice. I watched it surreptitiously as it stood on the floor behind him, waiting. Whoever it was, it had found me. But had it found Gabriel?
    As I waited, wondering what it would do, I heard footsteps and the sighing of an old woman. The simple act of walking left her breathless.
    Vivian had returned.
    The raven was startled, clearly not expecting her to return so soon, so it hopped backwards and hid away in a dark corner while Vivian walked into the cave carrying the final ingredient that would help make her young and beautiful once again.
    “So you're still human are you, Lilly? I'm surprised at you. I figured you might have tried to escape. Not that you would be able to. I raised you not to run away, didn't I? You never could get away from me,” she laughed as she began concentrating on her strange recipe for beauty.
    I listened and watched closely as she read to herself as if from a bizarre recipe book.
    “Let's see, two sprigs of rosemary, Lillian's blood, hair from a horse's mane and the sinew from a horse's leg, the hair from Lillian's head and a few tablespoons of pure spring water from the Pantheon Mountains... yes, I think that's about it.”
    She placed all of the ingredients into a small bowl and mixed it up with a wooden spoon before placing it over the fire that Charlie had been busy preparing.
    It was a surreal experience, watching this old Vivian becoming more and more excited as the recipe developed. She became almost childlike, skipping around the fire clapping her hands in anticipation. This was a Vivian I had never seen. The only Vivian I had ever known was sombre, strict, mean... and beautiful.
    It didn't take long until I could hear the ingredients bubbling away. Vivian removed it from the fire and sieved it into a wooden chalice before picking it up and turning to me.
    “Cheers, Lillian darling,” she laughed, before placing the cup to her lips and drinking it hungrily without taking a breath. She then threw it to the floor and wiped her lips with the back of her long black sleeve.
    “Time to change,” she added before she took off the long black cloak and revealed her naked body.
    The old hag was covered from head to toe in deep set wrinkles, and her skin hung in folds all over her body. This was the body of an ancient woman, not the Vivian I remembered.
    She didn't stand naked for long. She stepped carefully into a crisp white gown that Charlie held open for her. All the time she maintained a wicked smile on her lips. The smile of a mad woman.
    Even though she was barely recognisable, seeing her in white reminded me of the times we had lived together. She had never worn any other colour. She always presented herself, from head to foot, in white. White trousers, white blouse, white pumps, sometimes even a white head band. Every day, something else white. She had long white dresses, skirts, jeans even.
    She had presented herself so beautifully, while at the same time had presented me in such an ugly way. Dowdy, old, used clothes that didn't fit properly. In yellow, the one colour that did nothing for me. The one colour