The Raven Girl

Chapter 28

Never had Rickard seen something so bizarre unfold around him. Of course, there were always odd people at court, strange rumours never ceasing to follow them like figures in shadowed hoods, bearing a dagger beneath their cloak to damn said person's good name with slanderous remarks. He'd seen that, yes- it was a common occurrence in a court full of slippery characters, willing to break another for their own gain- but never this. 

It looked as though there really should have been others surrounding her, jesting and laughing at something Rickard knew not. In fact, it first glance he had even questioned his eyes, confused as to why he couldn't see who Asta was talking to. 

She was happier now then he'd ever seen her, her face practically glowing, eyes sparkling like molten silver, cold exterior melted and warm. This was Asta free from all worries and fears, as if being with... whatever she was with gave her the ability to remove herself from them, yet to anyone else she'd appear insane. Luckily, any hunting parties would have died out by now, withering away with the dwindling light. The only people out here was likely the two of them, for this was the King's forest, and no commoner was permitted to wander its paths for fear of punishment, lest they were granted permission by Eirik himself.

"I can't remember your name." Asta said, dreamily, staring at the space in front of her. "Every time I think I can, my mind goes blank, like something doesn't want me to." She frowned hard, squeezing her eyes shut as if she were trying to concentrate, focus on remembering whoever the name belonged to, but she gave up soon after, frustrated. "It begins with m, does it not?"

She tried to say it, hopelessly sputtering out random sounds, seeming not to give up, utterly determined to work out this name. She continued, each failed attempt driving her mad, until, abruptly, she stopped, looking up, as if she should've been staring directly into somebody's eyes, frown slipping away like a loose knot or a boat on the horizon. She didn't smile or blink for a long time, simply gazing into whatever stood before her, an intense, hardened look returning to her once silver eyes.

"Maja." She said, eyes widening. "I remember now."

Gently, Rickard called her name, dragging her eyes away from the empty space that went by name of Maja. Perhaps he should have stayed quiet, watching the madness from afar, and tried to make sense of it all, for surely this and the song was all part and parcel of a much larger thing, regardless of the insanity of it all. However, he knew well enough that they could not stay out here all night without, at the very least, rousing suspicion, and the wintery breeze made it near impossible anyway. 

Still, he couldn't help but feel a little irritated that he'd ended it all so quickly. After all, when would the next chance arise? Though he daren't admit it, the thought of Asta's possible insanity intrigued him and rather than try to be rid her of it, he willed it on. He couldn't help it- this was a very curious thing, needless to say, and far more so than anything he'd seen. 

She looked at him through guarded eyes, waiting for what it was he had to say, almost daring him to bring up what had happened. He wondered if she even remembered.

"It is getting late,"  he smiled, "we must turn back."

Reluctantly, she nodded, a downcast expression written all over her face, and trudged forward to join his side.

"Are you cold? I'm afraid we stayed out far longer than we should have, and you've only the thin wool of your dress for warmth."

"I like the cold." She replied, slowly. "It makes me feel alive." 

They walked forward in silence, Rickard trying to progress just what he'd heard that day, attempting to make sense of the conversation he heard without the other half. He might as well have been reading a book with every other page torn out, and half of it missing, for he'd dragged her away from it all well before it had finished. 

After a while, he opened his mouth to speak, his curiosity getting the better of him, rendered powerless to stop it. Who could? This was by far more interesting than anything that had travelled the corridors of the castle, and was, to his knowledge, the only thing that had ever captivated him, his mind left pondering its possibilities for hours without once tiring.

"You spoke of a Maja." he said, breaking the silence. "You said that 'you remember now'. Who is she?"

"You mean, whowas she- Maja's dead." Asta corrected, casually, a vague look in her eyes.

"You remember?" He questioned, a little more forcefully than intended. "Who was she, then?"

Asta paused, the confidence and surety she'd had in her answers disappearing like smoke from a dying flame, her face crumbling with it.

"I don't know." she whispered, bottom lip trembling. "All I know is that she's dead now. She told me I should remember her, and I do- her face is so familiar, as if I've always known her- but that is all I know. Nothing more."

Disappointed, Rickard brought his questions to a close- there was no point pursuing information she didn't have. Asta frowned, suddenly, stopping in her tracks.

"Why did you ask?" she said, her confusion evident in the way she looked at him. "Maja was there. You heard as much as I did."

Shaking his head, Rickard led her forward, eager to get back to the castle. Winter was coming far quicker than usual, burying the autumn leaves in snow and carrying them away on frosty winds. This night was no different, and he found his cloak was not thick enough to keep out the cold. He couldn't help but worry for the girl, for though she insisted that she was fine, he knew that if he could feel the night's chill aplenty through his clothes, where money was no object, she would be far worse off. In this weather, catching a cold would be the least of her worries.

"She wasn't there?" Asta choked out, the words catching in her throat. Instant worry spread through her veins, prickling like the heat on a summer's day. "I was talking to myself?"

Rickard nodded, but then paused, watching her horrified expression. "Rather, you were talking to the air." he smiled, curtly.

"And you think I'm mad." she concluded.

"No. I think my brother's mad. I think the people that surround him are mad. You? I am yet to come to my conclusion on that."

A small smile graced her lips, but was quickly diminished by another thought. Her mind was a cat, pouncing upon every relief, no matter how small, and preying upon her happiness. If she wasn't careful, it would consume her.

"Will he find out? The King, I mean. Will you tell him?"

"We aren't as close as Eirik would like to make out, you know. There are many things that are better left unsaid to him, this being one of them."

Another, fuller smile replaced her fretting grimace, her lip cracked and bleeding from the amount of times she'd bitten it. Quickly, she wiped the blood away with the back of her hand, wincing slightly as the crack stretched and grew with her grin.

They picked up the pace, the castle in the distance growing closer with every step they took. Disappointingly closer, Asta thought, wishing that she didn't have to return, for when she did she'd have to take her place with the servants- no, below the servants- and return to the kitchens, ready to be criticised and mocked by that same, irritating chef for the rest of her life.

What a dreary thought that was.