I had been sitting on my bed, cradling a once injured raven to my chest, crying over the black feathers. My mother, in an angry fit, had demanded that I get rid of the raven I had found weeks ago severely injured. The night before I had to let him go I stared into his black eyes, little girl that I was feeling like he could understand me, and sobbed out those very words.

The man winced at the name. “How did you come up with such a foul title?”

“I was a child,” I snapped back, but with little force. My head was growing lighter. At seven years old I had thought Craven the Raven a terribly clever name.

I laid back, my body giving a cold shudder. “You can’t be Craven,” I was starting to feel detached from the conversation, like someone else was talking and I was only half listening.

“Did you know, dear, that hundreds of years ago your ancestors gave special attention to the creatures of the Earth?”

My eyes were closed; it somehow was helping me think a little more clearly. “You mean like the Indians?”

“The natives of this land recognized us for what we were. They gave us proper attention, and, in return, we gave them favor here or there. It was a seamless relationship that lasted for hundreds of years. They did not question our forms, whether we took man or animal. Why must you?”

“Because you’re crazy?” My words were slurring. It should’ve been alarming, but I hadn’t the energy left to alarm. “Are you trying to tell me you’re some kind of…” I couldn’t think of the word though I knew it had something to do with the pillars with animal faces carved on it.

“Spirits,” he said back. “I am a spirit and you in your past have done me an irrefutably good deed when you nursed me to health. I had had a bad bout with a wolf spirit. My recovery would have been far less… pleasant without your hands to guide me.”

“But why are you here now?” Now, all this years later as I lay quite probably on my deathbed. I didn’t tell him that when I was a child I would wait nights on end for the damn raven to return. It was childish frivolity, I know now, but how I wanted that bird to return to me then. “Why now instead of fifteen years ago? I needed you then.” Of course I suppose I needed him now. At the very least I recognized the conversation was keeping my mind off of Sean’s body that lay so close. A part of me knew it was an irrational conversation with a part of my mind possibly clinging to the hope that I would survive this desperate situation. He wasn’t real, a figment of my imagination, but at this very moment I needed that figment, if only to help me endure a little while longer.

He scoffed, a humorless laugh. “And what would I have done with a seven year old? No, I have all the time in the world to wait until you flourished into womanhood.”

I arched my eyebrows in his general direction despite myself. I had no response to that. Why should he care if I was a child or woman. Unless… “Have you been around all this time? Watching me?” Asks I to the apparition created of my own mind. As ludicrous as this dialogue was getting, I felt it was helping me cling to some last piece of strength inside me.

There was a brief silence then the man replied, “I have come now and again to check on you. You are at a ripe age now, and I have no desire to put off this harvest any longer.”

At that I managed to open my eyes, turning my head to see him hunkered down beside me, Sean’s body only slightly obscured by his form and Death, or whatever the ghost may be, looming over his shoulder. “Are you saying you did this?” There was a coldness in my voice that sounded foreign to my ears.

Craven, or whoever he was, sneered. “No,” he gracefully pointed back at the road. “The man who fell asleep behind his wheel and hit you did this.”

“No one hit us. All I saw was you in the road,” I snapped back, anger giving me a surprising boost of strength.

“Oh that? I just felt your tender sensibilities would be quite distraught if you were to see the car that hit you. I protected you from that, and,” with a gesture to Death, “with help I was able to protect you from sudden well…” he smirked as he glanced over his shoulder at the phantom. “You catch my drift, I’m sure.”

“Then why didn’t you protect Sean too?! Why did you let him die?”

The man bared his teeth in an angry hiss that made my skin crawl as he shot over his shoulder and at the dead man in question. “I have no love for rivalry,” was his only response.

Stunned I found I could only stare at him. He glanced back at me, those black eyes as cold then as they would be years from that day. I felt all my anger leave me in one breath, the fight drawn out of me by my lack of blood or energy. It was a useless argument. I fell back to the grass, closing my eyes again. “So now what?” I asked, deadpan.

“I’m here to fulfill my promise to you, my lady. I have neither forgotten you nor did I leave you. I have returned to take you away, where no one can find us.”

His voice was starting to sound farther and farther away. I wanted to open my eyes, to see how close that cloudy black monster was to me, to see if it really was Death pulling me away.

I tried to open my mouth to say I had been a child, upset at my parents for their messy divorce, felling lost, alone, and rejected. Any plead I had made all those years ago was just the typical empty hopes of a little girl. I didn’t want to be taken away now.

“You’re dieing, my dear,” said the man who wanted me to believe he was Craven. “Do you want to die?”

An odd question. Who wants to die? “No,” I whispered out.

“I can stay his hand. Permanently. If that is what my lady wishes.”

It was such tempting wish. I realized I was so very scared. It wasn’t the pain of death that that terrified me, that had already passed. It was the knowledge that I would never see my family again. That I would never see my friends or laugh or read a good book again. Or marry, have children. Suddenly a hundred thousand things I had never done flew through my head. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die. For me it was the life I would never have the raced by, and all the regrets that it carried.

“I don’t want to die,” I whispered.

For a moment I heard nothing, there was nothing to see but the darkness behind my eyes, and I feared the moment had passed. Death had me.

Instead the sounds around me grew steadily louder. I heard the chirp of a cricket to my right, the rustle of the blood free grass to my left. A little taken back I opened my eyes and was met with no pain.

I sat up, unburdened by even the concept of it. “What did you do?”

He smiled at me, that striking yet disconcerting smile. “I have staid Death’s hand. Enduringly.”

I should have been joyous. Instead I was chilled. “What do you mean enduringly?”

He cocked his head in that raven manner that assured me the man could in fact be Craven. “When the doors of life and death are so close, with one closing and another opening, there is a moment of opportunity, in which a spirit can whisk away mortality.”

Despite the lack of pain I still felt sick, though I was sure it wasn’t physical. I didn’t want to think it, but I couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t actually some messed up part of my mind trying to save me. “Do you mean you can make someone immortal?” What if he actually was… real?

He was still crouched so close to me, and those dark eyes were unreadable. “Not someone. You. Welcome, Pandora, to the land of the spirits.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, staring at the legs that were still crushed under the car. “It doesn’t look much different than my world,” I mumbled, still trying to decide if I should believe him or not. For all I know I wasn’t that close to death anyway. Maybe I had just been light headed from seeing all that blood, not dispelling it.

He threw his head back and laughed. “This? My dear, this is not the spirit world. I am to take you there.” He stood suddenly, quickly, the silk like cloak swirling around his black boots. He offered down a hand to me.

I glared at the offering, then the man. How did he expect me to stand with some tons of metal still pressing on my legs?

He wiggled his fingers at me, daring me to take them. I looked again at my legs and noting that they were, despite their shattered state, still pain free. Mentally rolling my eyes I reached up and placed my hand in his. His hand was so much larger then mine for a moment I though my hand lost as he curled his long fingers around it. His hand was warm and solid, something I hadn’t expected.

He pulled me to my feet effortlessly.

Shocked I stared down at myself, standing on my own two feet that had seconds ago been undoubtedly flattened by the Honda. They were not only whole, but unscarred or cut. They were perfect.

“How… how could you-“ I glanced back and choked. I was fine, but there was another I that was not as lucky.

I, or more precisely, my body, lay still under the Honda, broken and covered with blood. My head was lulled to one side, eyes closed. And I wasn’t breathing.

“I’m dead!” I cried out, sure that I was now a ghost staring down at my body. It was a terrifying thing, to see my body there, so silent and me yet standing over it.

The man wrapped one arm around my shoulders. “No, my dear. You’re not dead. Though I fear your body is.”

I stared up at his, desperate to understand, panting in confusion. With my body so lifeless at me feet and his arm so solid around me there was no way I could contest his reality. “I don’t understand,” I started.

His grin was cunning, his eyes clever as he slowly drawled, “You have survived Death in a way few mortals have. You will never succumb to him, neither by sickness nor age. You, my dear, are now a spirit, though of what you have yet to decide. You are dead to this world, yes, but you as you know yourself still endure.”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I was sure I was crying. I didn’t know what to feel. Relieved that I was spared from death, horrified that I was, as far as I could tell, a ghost? This wasn’t want I wanted when I said I didn’t want to die! How would this help me get back to my family, see my friends again?

“I give you warning, my fledgling spirit,” he whispered close. This time there was warm breath against my cheek. “With immortality comes the worst of enemies. Time you cannot escape. Embrace it, as you have an eternity left of it. You shall never age but never shall you die. Rejoice or lament, for in eternal life you have no relief.” He murmured it like a death sentence. My heart pounded as I saw it as he described it, endless, relentless years stretched out before me. Death I had feared, this I was horrified by.

He was pulling me away from the accident, from my body and the life I now knew was as over as if I had actually died. “Why are you going this?” I whispered.

“Because I was in need of a servant. And I prefer a beautiful one, such as yourself.”

“You orchestrated all this,” I murmured, slowly comprehending.

He shrugged. “Perhaps.”

I tried to jerk away, shoving his arm off of me but he snaked out and caught my wrist. “Why?! I saved you, remember? I helped you when you were hurt!”

He gave an almost sympathetic smile. “My dear, who ever taught you that the spirits were gracious? They have done wrong by you then. You did no more then spark my interest and give me opportunity to return the favor.”

I jerked back again but his grasp was like iron. “But I don’t want this!”

“An unimportant detail. For your deed then allows me, by our laws, to save you from Death’s grasp. You merely gave me the means to equivocate the laws.”

He was dragging me farther and farther away into the woods. My feet never ruffled the leaves or tripped on roots. I was, as far as this world was concerned, non-existent. “I don’t want to go with you!” I cried out, trying to dig my heels down, but it was useless. He was changing as we walked. His black hair, once short, grew long till it almost reached his ankles. His black coat became lined with raven feathers around the collar, the clothing itself becoming more ornate with black on black designs.

“You have little choice,” he smoothly added, content with his catch. “Until you have mastered an ability of your own then you will be forced to stay by my hand as my servant.”

“How do I master an ability?” I asked quickly, trying to dodge trees out of habit as opposed to walk through them as he did. It was eerie and I refused to admit that now I could do the same.

“Why, I will teach you. In your time between your duties to me, of course.” He glanced over his shoulder at me, his black eyes glowing in the dark, his face the vision of a creature quite pleased with itself. “But choose wisely, as it will be a power and title you will carry for all time.”

“What are you?” I hopped over a rock, noticing that the closer we got to wherever he was taking me, the quicker my earthly clothing was seeming to dissipate. My shoes were long gone.

“I am the Raven Lord, of course. A high title, may I add, and not an easily obtained.”

I gritted my teeth and gave my arm a hard tug, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. He gave no notice; he grasp didn’t slacken. “I can be any animal?” I asked, already forming an idea in my frantic head.

He gazed over his shoulder again. “Becoming an animals spirit is not easy, though, as you can tell, it allows us solidity in this world. A nice change when the hands on time have bored the last sound thought out of ones head. But yes, any animal you wish.”

I couldn’t help grinning, baring my teeth back at him. “What eats ravens?”

He stilled then, turning back to me slowly with an arched eyebrow and a finally interested expression. “Why a bear, I suppose, if he could catch a bird. Or a wolf even, if he were fast enough.”

A wolf. He had said a wolf spirit had injured him so many years ago. “Wolf then,” I snapped out at him. He could force me to go wherever it was he wanted to take me, rip me from my own world, but damn it was I was going to get my own revenge.

His full lips curled slightly, his face lighting with intrigue. “Wolves take quite a time to master, my dear. Are you sure that is what you want?”

There was a savage image of his raven feathers caught between my lupine teeth and I wasn’t one I turned away from with disgust. “Absolutely,” I said with finality.

His reaction was unexpected. He pulled me tight against his chest, wrapping two strong arms around me and throwing his head back, howling delighted laughter up at the skies. “Wonderful,” he praised, black eyes dancing. “I fear my days may at least be filled with some interest.”

I tried to step back but he flexed, tightening his grip. Grinning down at me he added, “You know it will take some time before you reach this goal of yours. And I can promise, I will be as ruthless of a teacher as my own master was.”

I was angry, furious that he was taking my threat so lightly. “I don’t care,” I snarled. I could take a few years if the payoff was wiping that smug smirk off his face.

“Good, good,” he nodded. “With that kind of anger you may even we may have you trained in five to six centuries.”

I froze, breath caught, trying to gage if he was jesting. “Centuries?”

He arched one eyebrow at me, reveling in my shock. “Of course centuries. What did you think I meant, years?” The gaze he leveled down at me assured me that he knew I had assumed just that. “We had better get started then, my would be wolf pup. We have much time to spend together.”

“No,” I said weakly, trying to push him away. “I take it back.” Centuries? My mind couldn’t even begin to wrap itself around the concept. I didn’t want to be with this man five minutes more, never mind five hundred years.

“Tisk tisk, dear. Don’t you know that your word is a binding contract? We have come to an agreement; it is impossible to surrender now. I must say,” he stepped back and held both my wrists. “I am most pleased. I have never had a servant for so long.”

I tried to scream out, one last mournful cry. I had escaped death but in its place lost my life. How could the blackness of death be colder then the hell I had just willingly placed myself into?

He dragged me down into the ground, to neither heaven nor hell, neither earth nor the sky.

But to all the places in-between