After my father Muter's funeral, the only thing left was the scent of earth burning my throat. And this box, clutched tightly in my lap. I was rifling through memories; my father's old watch, a few faded photographs, and that thick, leather-bound journal...
A shrill voice from outside startled me. "Come on, Nikol, it's time to go!" It was my stepsister, Mercy. The fake affection in her voice stung like shards of glass. As we walked toward the car, Mercy and her husband Ethan were laughing. In their world, life went on as usual; in mine, an absolute silence reigned.
The masks fell the moment we reached home. "Give me the box," Ethan said, reaching out. His eyes were searching for a valuable antique or a piece of jewelry they could sell. Mercy added, "We need to sort through your father's things, honey," with a greedy curl to her lips. Hypocrites. Mercy and her dimwitted dog, Ethan... I handed them the box. They could take what they wanted. I had already hidden the only thing I needed—the journal—inside my sweater.
I locked myself in my room and cried for hours. When my tears dried, I opened the leather-bound book my father had protected at the cost of his life. In the middle of the first page, written like a warning, was this sentence:
"The Sparrow leads to the garden; the Raven leads to the gutter..."
As I turned the pages, I embarked on a journey from my father's childhood to his youth. But around his 20s, the writings changed. Two names were repeated constantly: Via Passeris and Via Corvus. Sometimes in Latin, sometimes in languages I didn't recognize... He spoke of places and people that didn't seem to exist in the real world. I pulled out my phone and searched the names. Result: No records found.
Just as I was about to close the book, a memory flashed in my mind like lightning. My mother, Katy... On that last night before she died, while muttering in a fever, the words she whispered to my father echoed in my ears: "The violence of Corvus is increasing day by day, Muter... War is at the gates. I must go."
Back then, I thought she was raving because of her illness. But now... My hands shook as I looked at the journal. Where was Via Passeris? Why was Via Corvus associated with a war? And why had my father hidden all of this?
The Mountain of Secrets
The further I turned the pages, the more complicated things became. According to my father's notes, he and my mother had first met in that place called Via Passeris. However, the journal ended abruptly when my father turned twenty-four. After that, there was a giant void.
Internet, library archives... there wasn't a single trace of these names anywhere. I picked up a dictionary and focused on the foreign words. Passer: Sparrow. Corvus: Raven. Via Passeris meant "The Way of the Sparrow," and Via Corvus meant "The Way of the Raven." Great, I had two names, but what was I supposed to do with them?
Just as I was about to give up, a memory surfaced. Once a year after my mother died, my father and I would go to a specific mountain: Sparrow Mountain. Every time we went, my father would catch a sparrow, tie a tiny note to its leg, and say, "This will go to your mother's soul." We performed this ritual every year on this exact date—three days from today.
My mind was made up. The answer was there.
I packed immediately and set out on the two-day journey. When I arrived at Sparrow Mountain, the towering peak stood before me in all its majesty and mystery. To others, this was just an ordinary forested area. But for me... every time I stepped foot here, I felt the very air in my lungs change. As if I were returning home.
I stood before the wooden cabin my father had built years ago. Of course, I didn't have the key; damn Mercy had taken that too. But there was something she didn't know: the woodshed in the back. The loose board I had accidentally broken while playing hide-and-seek as a child was still there. I slipped through the dusty passage.
The inside smelled of abandonment and dust. After a quick cleaning, I started searching, but there was nothing tangible. My eyes caught the old frame on the fireplace mantle. A photo of my mother and father smiling side by side...
I picked it up and looked closely. As a child, I always thought the landscape behind them was a foreign country. But now, looking closer, my blood ran cold. This photo was from 20 years ago, three years before I was born. The silvery buildings behind them, the lighting, the architecture... 20 years ago, such advanced technology wasn't possible anywhere on Earth. It was impossible.
Just then, a terrifying sound from deep within the forest made me jump. The frame slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor. Shards of glass scattered everywhere. My eyes filled with tears, and I was on the verge of crying from fear and helplessness when I saw a piece of paper, folded in four, stuck between the broken glass.
With trembling hands, I unfolded the paper. This note, hidden for years by my father, was from my mother, Katy.
"My beloved Muter... I miss you and our daughter Nikol so much I can't breathe. But I cannot come, I am sorry. My father never allows me outside the walls. Especially since the new King of Corvus took the throne... He is cruel and dangerous. Half of the Passerians outside have been slaughtered.
I cannot escape, my love. This may be the last note that reaches you. My father caught me; he is still furious about the night you deserted the army and kidnapped me. Please take care of our baby Nikol and yourself. Love, Katy.
P.S. After reading this letter, either destroy it or seal it with the strongest protective spell. Corvus spies are everywhere. They can catch the scent of the magic I've woven into my words."
I was crushed under the weight of what I had read. As my tears soaked the paper, I jumped at the sound of a heavy knock on the front door. Thud! Thud!
Fear spread through my body like an icy wave. It was impossible for anyone to be here, on this mountain, hours away from the nearest settlement. Was it Mercy? No, she would never come here.
I backed away toward the corner where I kept the shotgun. The door opened slowly, creaking. I froze at the silhouette standing in the doorway. He wore a blood-red coat that reached the floor. But the strangest thing was his eyes... glowing red like embers—which I assumed were contacts—fixed on me.
Without hesitation, I grabbed the shotgun and aimed the barrel at his chest. "What do you want?" I shouted, trying to keep my voice from trembling.
The stranger looked at the tip of the barrel and gave a mocking smile, raising his hands slightly. "Hey, take it easy, sweetheart," he said in a velvet voice. "I'm just lost, okay?"
"I'm asking if you can give me a place to stay," he said, not even bothering to move away from the barrel. I carried my teeth. "You should go back to whatever hell you came from."
The annoying smirk on his face widened. "Hey, calm down, Princess. I'm not dangerous... at least not for someone as sweet as you." His eyes flicked to the shotgun. "Also, just so you know, that gun is empty."
The moment he said it, my eyes darted to the magazine well. Damn it. My father kept the ammunition in a separate place. I suppressed my fear and lifted my chin. I couldn't let it show.
"Come on, let's start over," he said, extending his hand. His palm was calloused but well-groomed. "My name is Kael." I took a deep breath and reluctantly shook his hand. It was ice cold. "Nikol." I pulled my hand back quickly and gestured outside with my head. "Just for tonight. You can stay in the woodshed. Be gone by morning."
Instead of protesting, Kael smiled and headed for the door. As he walked away, I yelled angrily, "You could have at least said thank you!" He looked back over his shoulder, chuckled, and entered the woodshed.
The Prince of Shadows
There were many strange things about Kael; those red eyes, the odd clothes... But I hadn't slept in days, and my brain was about to shut down. I postponed the questions until tomorrow and collapsed onto the bed. I don't know how long I slept. I woke up to strange screams and metallic sounds coming from the forest. My heart was pounding.
Just as I was trying to understand what was happening, the cabin door slammed open with a loud bang. Kael stood in the doorway. The cocky, self-assured boy was gone. His red coat was in tatters, and his shirt was soaked with blood. Our eyes met. He gave me one last, deep look—a look that asked for help but remained proud... And then, he collapsed like a puppet.
I was frozen in place. Should I run, or should I help?
Taking a deep breath, I struggled to drag Kael's unconscious body onto the bed. I grabbed the iodine and bandages from my father's medicine cabinet and began tending to his wounds. When I pulled back his shirt, my hand stopped in mid-air. His wounds... were closing before my eyes at an inhuman speed.
But that wasn't the real shock. There was a pitch-black tattoo on his left shoulder. I ran downstairs and grabbed my father's journal. I flipped the pages frantically. There it was! The black raven, the symbol of the Corvus people. But there was one small, vital difference in Kael's version: the raven was wearing a crown. I had finally found a clue, a glimmer of hope in the dark. But my mother's words echoed in my mind: "War... Danger..."
He was a Corvus. The enemy. I took the thickest rope I could find in the house. After bandaging his wounds, I tied him tightly to the bed. When exhaustion took over, I curled up in the armchair in the corner of the room.
"You're cute when you sleep, beautiful..." I jolted awake at that velvet voice. Kael had opened his eyes and was looking at me. Then he strained his wrists and frowned. "...but may I ask why you've tied me up like a turkey?"
Instead of answering, I pointed to the tattoo on his shoulder. "Because of that."
Kael's mocking, relaxed expression vanished instantly. For the first time, there was seriousness on his face. The red in his eyes began to glow like embers. "What do you know about that symbol?" he asked. His voice was ice cold.
I remained silent. His intensity frightened me. Seeing that I didn't answer, his eyes glowed brighter, as if he were trying to enter my mind. His voice turned into a deep echo, more than a human voice: "I ASKED WHAT YOU KNOW!"
I shrank back in fear. But... nothing happened. No magic, no explosion. There was just a boy staring at me with veins bulging on his forehead. Kael paused. His face fell, and he muttered to himself, "Damn... those wretched sparrows must have really done a number on me. Even the hypnosis isn't working."
My fear turned into confusion in an instant. I looked at him with an "are you an idiot?" expression, like a teacher looking at a preschooler who couldn't solve a math problem. "What are you trying to do?" I asked, my trembling voice giving way to mockery. "Are you going to beat me with your stares?"
He looked at me in surprise for a moment, then that familiar, annoying smile returned. "Look, Nikol," he said calmly. "Under normal circumstances, you should be under my mental control right now. But since you're a special case, I'll be a gentleman and ask you to untie me." He narrowed his eyes. "Of course, you don't have to... but remember, I could pop out of these in a heartbeat. And believe me, the way I do it won't be pleasant." Then he added, "If you untie me, I'll answer your questions. But be warned: after we talk, I'll make you forget everything."
I was scared, but the answers to my questions were standing right in front of me. I couldn't miss this opportunity. Clutching the shotgun tightly, I slowly approached the bed. "Fine," I said with a shaky breath. "You'll tell me everything." I leaned down to untie the ropes. The knots were tight, and my fingers struggled.
"Ugh, so boring..." I heard a groan. Before I could even lift my head, Kael's body turned into a mass of black smoke. Shadows curled like snakes, sliding off the bed and reuniting at the other end of the room. When I blinked, Kael was standing across the room, leaning against the wall with my shotgun in his hand.
"Looks like my powers have recovered," he said, fiddling with the barrel of the gun. My heart was in my throat, but I didn't step back. "You promised! You'll tell me."
Kael laughed. "Don't worry, Princess, I keep my word. I'm going to make you forget it all anyway when we're done." He set the gun aside and began to explain. He spoke of the Corvus people, the ancient magic flowing in their veins, and how he was a Prince. He spoke of the humans in our world as "Ordinaries," as if we were just sub-humans, pawns to them.
"And... Via Passeris?" I asked, remembering the name from my father's journal. At the mention of the name, his eyes flared red for a moment, and his face tightened. "Those idiotic traditionalists..." he hissed. "The Passeris people believe magic only comes from the 'soul' and reject all other paths. But we Corvus know the truth: magic also comes from blood. In fact, much stronger spells can be cast through soul sacrifice. The loss of souls is a threat to them, but to us, it is power. That is why we have been enemies for centuries."
What he told me chilled my blood. Soul sacrifice? Kael walked slowly toward me, closing the gap between us. The red light in his eyes dimly lit the room. "Well, I kept my word, Princess," he whispered. "Now it's your turn. How do you know these names, our existence?" He leaned toward my face, his eyes flashing threateningly. "Will you tell me the hard way, or the easy way?"
"First of all, know this," I said, lifting my chin, "I am not afraid of you."
The smile vanished from Kael's lips. He walked toward me with slow, predatory steps. As the distance closed, the very air in the room seemed to grow heavy. He leaned into my face, his breath hitting my cheek. "You should be," he whispered. His voice was serious enough to send shivers down my spine.
While my heart beat as if it would burst from my chest, he suddenly pulled back and burst out laughing. The tension deflated like a balloon. "I'm just kidding," he said cheerfully. "You're so cute when you try to be brave, Princess."
Taking a deep breath, I quickly backed away. His unpredictable behavior was making me dizzy. To change the subject, I picked up the journal from the table and held it out to him. "Because of my father," I said. "I learned everything from this journal." I prayed silently; I hoped he wouldn't notice the parts about my mother—specifically the fact that she was a Sparrow. For now, it was safer for him to focus on my father's discoveries.
Kael took the journal from my hand with curiosity, mixed with a bit of disdain. He opened the cover, and I read the famous line on the first page out loud: "The Sparrow leads to the garden; the Raven leads to the gutter..." He rolled his eyes. "Oh, how cliché and ridiculous," he said, flipping through the pages quickly.
He was just about to snap, "Are you mocking me? There's nothing in here," when his hand stopped on a page. His eyes locked onto the words Via Passeris and Via Corvus. His relaxed posture vanished instantly; his back straightened. As he read, his brows furrowed, and his expression grew grave.
He silently closed the cover and looked at me, weighing the journal in his fingers. "I think your father was a Corvus spy," he said, as if completing a puzzle in his head. "He lived like an ordinary human until he was 20, then suddenly found the portals and infiltrated. There's no other way he could know this much detail."
Then he laughed, but this time there was genuine shock in his laugh. "But there's something I don't understand... Why did he give it all up to be an Ordinary, choosing to rot away in this cabin?" He fixed his eyes on mine. "Where is your father, Nikol? I need to speak with him."