The Beginning is Never the Beginning
Caw nestled in, surrounded by the rooklets. This, right here, was a time honored tradition, and he was not about to take it lightly. They had no school in the flock; everything a rooklet needed to know was taught, like this, through the telling of stories. He remembered the stories he was taught, which he would also teach. But it was also his duty now to add his knowledge to the stories. He had best do this right.
“You have to know, rooklings, that when you first encounter your people, it is not their beginning. Everyone brings history with them; sometimes it’s their own history, and sometimes it’s other’s history. But it’s with them, and it affects them.” Caw started all of his stories with this. It was a lesson he saw learned the hard way too many times. On his first assignment, he learned it the hard way too.
The Fates had whispered to Caw the histories of his new appointment. Their parents’ hopes – and promises – of the Great Things in store for them. Their hard times and failures. Their highest highs. And finding each other through impossible odds. They were both different people now, after so many years. But still they were close, their very souls intertwined. What they had faced together had only made them stronger, and their love for each other burned true. And bright.
Even still, the day Caw first saw Kai and Thea, they were dusky and dim, their light very nearly snuffed out. Kai was an anxious one, constantly fretting over what might not be. And Thea, steadfast on the outside, had burned so hard for so long, you could very nearly see straight through her. They would collapse together at the end of the day, with barely enough energy left to care for each of their needs. Their history was a ligature, intent on snuffing out every last drop of hope. Caw had his work cut out for him.
Caw snapped back from his memory. “The Fates come to The Parliament when their weaving is being hundred. The Elder has ancient, powerful magic that can untie the knots that inevitably come up while weaving.” Surely, the rooklets had already heard this in stories past, but it was of utmost importance and demanded repetition. It was their very purpose, and what gave them the ability to pierce The Veil to visit the world of the people.
“But always remember that magic as powerful as The Parliament’s can undo the weaving of the Fates as easily as it can free it. That is why we Investigators must carefully and faithfully watch our charges. We must report back everything we witness, exactly as we witnessed it, so that The Parliament may Pass Judgement, and the correct magic be used.”
The rooklets listened without blinking. They already knew the importance of the work they would one day inherit, and knew the importance of these warnings. Every last rook knew the wrong magic could be the undoing of their charge. Where once the Fates wove their intricate tapestry, only emptiness now existed. The very threads they spun cut short in their fingers.
Caw remembered how close Kai was to that point already, when he first found them. It was not an easy task he had been assigned, and he feared what end he might bring these two. But he trusted in the wisdom of The Parliament, and of the Elder. And he knew he needed to find trinkets more than any other time. Objects of importance, from pivotal times, held a special magic themselves, and he knew The Parliament would need these more than ever.
Kai’s mind got lost in the repetition of the job. Twist, grab, push, pull, turn, pull, turn, cut. It was already second nature; their body knew the routine far better than their mind did at this point. Which left the mind free to wander. And fret. They desperately tried not to, of course, but fate or genes or just bad luck had never given them any kind of control over their brain. At least, not when they were so woefully disadvantaged as they were now.
Twist, grab, push, pull, all over again. There was no hope, no light, anywhere to be found. A nameless cog in an unfeeling, unending machine. Stop it! they fussed at their brain. They had a comfortable home; well, it was a home at least, and wonderfully cool in the building heat of summer. They had two dogs they loved; and who only paid them any attention when they wanted to be fed. And most importantly, a loving wife; at least, as much of one as was left over at the end of the day. Every hope was countered with despair by their cursed brain. Twist, grab, push, pull, all over again.
It was finally almost time for the bell to ring. The klaxon that ran all of their lives. Told them when to start, when to stop. Ask permission to pee. No eating when you’re not supposed to. Kai adhered to the rules religiously. A few more minutes, and they could finally stop for the day. They cast another glance across the building, hoping to catch sight of Thea, hoping things had gone alright all the way over there. It was nice when things went well for her, like maybe there would be a breath of air in store for them soon. It was heartbreaking to watch her pour her whole self into the job. This machine would gobble up everything you offered and not even grumble a thanks. But Thea was dedicated to her ‘guys’, and Kai was proud to be associated with such selfless devotion.
The ending bell sounded, and the whole mass of the people made their way for the front doors. Kai held back, not wanting to be a part of that thronging horde. There, finally, at the back of the line weaving towards the doors, was Thea. It had not been a good day, and Kai’s heart broke. This, all of this, was not what Kai had ever wanted. They wanted to cry and scream and rage at whatever ugly monstrous thing has brought them to this place at this time. Whatever last little bit of hope that had been able to hang on through the day, shriveled up and died inside of Kai. Life seemed far beyond hope.
Lunch box in hand, they took up stride next to Thea as they both plodded towards the front doors to leave. Not an escape, just a short respite. Thea bumped into Kai, a purposeful, silent I love you. Kai half smiled and nudged into her shoulder in return. High above in a tree, an abnormally large black bird perched, watching. This is how Caw first met his new assignment.