10

The Crows

                “My crowlings, we were created before time, thus we are eternal. Lo and behold, we were once as the spectrum; glorious, magnificent. Come, gather round.

                “Before the first of our reproduction cycles and before the first age had been put to an end by the fallen firmament of God, even before our separation from the celestial, we were majestic. We, the fathers, were the most beautiful creatures. Our feathers were of all brilliant colours and our melody was beyond all other creatures’ song, groan and hum; praise. We told ourselves ‘we would ascend to the height of the sun for we could be more glorious than the Giver of Life’.

                “All of creation stood in awe as we flew in one mass, formation, unison power, radiant in melody as we sang our high, majestic song; beautiful song. The light caught our colours and shaded the Earth in feathery rainbows of shadow.

                “On the sun, there are no trees which bear fruit. On the sun, there is no water of which to drink. No, the sun is desolate. We began to grow accustomed to charred flesh and burnt, coagulated blood and, if someone died in time for supper, raw flesh; we rejoiced. Oh, the juices and texture of freshly slaughtered meat became the only comfort on the ball of flame.

                “Our voices began to falter and disappear from the yelling. Now, the cracks of the remnants manifest themselves most powerfully as caws. Children, the war not only took our voice. The sun, children burnt our flesh! Great is our woe! The day we were created! Ah! I should say, the beginning when we were created. Cursed be it! Now our fate is to fly up and down the earth and to and fro to screech hoarsely in the ears of men. What more could we do? Our chance of beautiful taken from us, we had to use men to elevate us, to adore us, to empower us.

                “Children, you cry out to God for meat! You wander for lack of meat. Look upon your flesh, your coverings thereof. Rejoice! When you see the peaceful sleep of dead being torn apart by our beaks. Tremble for your flesh will be feasted upon! Remember when your breath ceases our screech from above and beneath. Let it be your lullaby.

                “We were the most beautiful, as brilliant as the sun itself. Are we not akin to the Giver of Life? Shall we not try and fill the world with our majesty? We shall ascend to the throne of Heaven. Children heed!

                The sole Raven lifted beak high and screeched.

                “This is a call to all those fallen. Arise. Take your place amongst the stars once again. We shall once again siege High Heaven and make our dwelling there. The Giver of Life is not greater than we; we shall exceed.

                “We shall break open the gates and I will declare, ‘the prince of the air is come! The consumer of all shall consume light. My reign over the earth draws to a close and my reign over all draws near!’”

                The final battle is here.