The Raven flew. The speed in which I traveled was unmatched by anything other than the flying critters of the Broken Lands, which, out of spite I admit, found their lonely grave among the clouds whenever they came too close to me.

Time was wasting away, and that I could not stand.

Grim and Kara had stayed back, of course, to guide the knights and hunters in their attempt to combat the Weirderbeast. Even without the giant mass of twisted life, the forest would be a whetstone to grind the blade of Ravenport on. Yes, Nightmares were used as training in the Wreckage, but the forest was a different world, dangerous and strange. We had seen nothing in our short days up in the trees our forces could not handle, but even a false step could spell their doom. Well, that would always be true, no matter their surroundings.

My mind might have been heavy with worry, but my heart raced in joy and excitement as I tumbled and jumped like the young man I was, unburdened by...of all things...the company of others. The free spirit in me longed for moments like this.

It was a sign of what was to come, I feared. I left them behind, day by day. I traveled faster without them, fought better without them, handled problems they could not even face. It would get worse, not better. I was not sure how I felt about that.

I was keenly aware that I left them behind for interests that in no way were of mortal concerns. That was why I needed them to step up. All of them. That was why I was leaving them fighting alone.

There was a steady income of Essence trickling in now, with me earning a tiny portion of the knight's EP, and several other individuals in Ravenport I had not discovered yet, who supposedly were praying at the Raven‘s Nest to either me or the Wanderer when I was not around. I had other things on my mind right now, so I had never really worked on the shrine I wanted to erect there, but things went their own way and fast at that. Sometimes the world just turned without my meddling.

I did not like it, but I welcomed the Ep with open arms and had, steadily over the last days, increased [Improved Agility] [Improved Strength] and [Improved Speed]. They were dirt cheap, in comparison with other expenditures I have had in the recent past, and had never let me down. And I might just be able to shave off a day of traveling with the newfound ease of movement.

It was high time I truly found a solution to the problem of being slow. I was the Raven. I should be able to fly. I grinned as the wind rushed past my face. What a thing to think. What a sentence to nod to and say: 'why not?'

Smoothly, I landed, three days after crossing the bay one more damn time, at the bridge across the chasm dividing the Broken Lands from the forest of the Mad King, which the Wyldlings called Heart of the Wyld.

I was a different man now. I had been someone else when last I set my foot beneath those trees. I was no longer a man running from something and aiming for nothing. I announced my presence, as was custom among nobles. Maybe he would appreciate the gesture.

Out of my cloak, thrown back as I widened my arms, the flock of crows spiraled into the air, as I let the souls fly, their cawing carried by the wind for miles, while at the same time the Raven wrought of shadows, the [Bearer of Bad News], was sent for the man I was looking for.

I waited patiently, just on the edge of the chasm, until I was sure that the raven must have found his mark and dove into the shadows of his trees.

“I ask permission to walk these woods once again, Dio!“ I yelled out loud. “I bring no quarrel, just the desire to talk between raven and tree.“

As I repeated the question several times, I headed inland, until, not a step disturbing the leaves on the ground, a wolf turned around a tree, watching me with its yellow eyes. Now, I feared no wolf, divine or otherwise, but mankind did and always would do as long as man and wolf would share the land, and the yellow eyes, the lolling tongue put even the man in me at unease. The wolf turned once more, stared at me, and sauntered on, looking back at me whenever I had the audacity to not follow him that very instant.

The wolf led me on to the hill I had visited before, where I had thought to find the glade of the Mad King. But the trees were...dead. Cut and rotten, every last one of them. Even the ground was scorched, blighted, sick. Plants withering and shriveling where no substance was left in the earth for them to be nourished from. The earth was dry and the grass yellow and sparse. The whole landscape had changed for the worse. It had been a luscious and green beating heart of life, the last time I was here.

It was a wasteland now. A desert. Life had fled the glade.

And in the middle of it was a man lying on the ground as if sleeping, but as I came near, I saw the roots piercing his flesh coming out from under the stone, breaking it even. He opened his eyes, flakes of skin drifting off in the breeze as the movement disturbed the dying flesh.

“The Raven bears bad news, as it has always been.“ Dio croaked and laughed a raspy laugh. “So tell me, forsaken one, what it is I need to hear.“

“What happened to you?“ I tried to remain calm and collected. He was a dangerous being, after all.

“I went to war.“ He grinned madly. “Don‘t you hear the triumphant roars amongst the screeches of the Song of the Wyld? Do you not feel the very earth bleeding for the living and the light? Don‘t you feel death laughing in endless glee?“

“I see a wasteland where your glade once was. For the rest I am blind, I fear.“

“You see a wasteland where I just see death preparing the land for a new cycle of growth. This is me winning.“ He truly laughed now, his belly rising and falling, which sounded like dry leaves crackling in the fire. “Or dying, as winter is upon us shortly.“

“What do you mean?“

“I am whole again, Raven. You made me such. You killed the part of me that was awake in winter, the one I would never have been able to defeat as autumn. Now it is winter and my strength is leaving me with no one to take over. But war it is, the darkness is grasping for the land of the living. The Song is wild with the death throes of its children.“

“Is there something I can do?“

“Can you shove the darkness back to where you found it? If so, please, go ahead.“ He cackled.

“I cannot. But I can aid you in war. I just need a favor first.“

“You come before the Mad King with a favor to ask? You are brave, little bird, or mad.“

“A deal, then. Help me with my problem and I help you with yours.“

His eyes were dead, his skin was all but mummified, he looked like a corpse at best, and yet, as he smiled, he resembled the wolf more than the man.

"Speak."

"There is a being in the forests across the bay to the west. A Nightmare, just bigger. We call it the Weirderbeast. A twisted form of countless critters, animals, and others, forming a whole. It is beyond mortal comprehension, hard even to look at. I suspect you created the Nightmares that stalk the nights of the Wyld. Is that right?"

He sighed deeply. "Who even knows at this point. If I did I was not myself. Or I was my true self. Or someone else. It is hard to know what or who I am after all these years."

"Let's talk about that, then." I said, sitting down next to the dying man.

As we finished speaking, the man before me turned to dust, crumbling away as the roots the body had been pierced with retreated back under the earth. It had not been his real body, if the Mad King even still had such a thing. Even the man I had met the last time only had been a ... puppet.

“Raven?“ A small voice came from the river, which had ignored the desolation of the glade and still was gurgling as happily as ever. “May I...May I speak with you?“ I remembered that voice, warm and so rich, as I turned to see Tonja, the Nymph walking up the side of the hill.

She was...still everything a man might desire, but she looked unwell. She had slung her arms around her breast, shivering in the cold autumn air. She looked tired and drained.

“You.“ I said. “You look awful.“

She looked hurt for a moment but steeled herself quickly. “Mock my demise if you want, Raven. Lash out if you please. I can take it. But I came to plead for the souls under my care. They, at least, do deserve a chance.“

Hot shame washed over me the second the childish anger had disappeared. “You do not need to plead. I am here on behalf of Kara, to take them to safety if I can.“

She visibly relaxed and seemed genuinely to be relieved, as a smile cracked the sad grimace of her face and made her glow in a new light.

“I am glad to hear that. The last weeks have been hard for the young ones. Ever since Dio cut his trees. He sealed them in a cave to protect them, but...It is time for us to seek shelter until the war of the Mad King comes to a conclusion. One way or the other.“

“What of the Wyldlings?“ I asked. “Are you prepared to make the decision for them? They have clans to return to.“

“I am. I beg you not to...punish them. I do not know where you stand, but...let them go if they learn to handle the Song of the Wyld. I...I will find a way to repay your kindness. And I am sure they do as well, once lucidity returns to the troubled.“

I sighed. An earnest plea, if ever I heard one. “I accept.“ I said with a little bit of gravel in my voice. “But remember that I take such matters very seriously.“

She nodded gravely but was determined to see the bargain made.

She was outright delighted when I told her that the Wyldlings had a camp in Beardale and she would be safe and cared for. I realized that all this time she had lived in a cave with mad and unhinged [Shamans] and [Seers], riding the wildest waves of the Song of the Wyld, with no one to protect them but her, an [Alienist].

She genuinely cared for them. She had done everything she could. A newfound respect grew in me as I took over, leading them out of the desolation towards Beardale.

The Mad King would heed my call whence I returned to the battle. I did not know what that meant, just yet, but It was all the concession I had been able to wrangle out of the old man.