The Girl Who Flew Away

Prologue

The witch let out a sound that was so horrifyingly frightening and humorless, it wouldn't be condsidered a laugh. "Say bye, bye to mommy and daddy!" She wiggled her fingers, menacingly, at the corpses on the floor. They wouldn't even be considered corpses, the ashes of Raven's parents. 

Tears streaked down the little girl's face, staining her rosy cheeks. They were unusually pink for such a pale face. The witch turned her gaze from the ashes and towards Raven. She smiled a devilish smile. It was a smile that was filled with achievement. Achievement in gaining her vengeance.Vengeance upon the ones that had lied and betrayed her. 

"My little Raven, my pretty little Raven," she cooed to the thirteen year old, reaching a hand out to touch her cheek. "So young... yet so beautiful... What I would do for that beauty..." The witch suddenly had a demonic gleam in her eye, making the girl flinch away.

"You would make a pretty little pet, wouldn't you Raven?"--she patted Raven's head--"A pretty little Raven in a golden cage hung from the ceiling! I can see it already!" Then, the witch cackled, in a very typical way. Her eyes gleamed green as she closed and opened her palm. Now, in her hand, was a vial that was filled with a raven feather drenched in a green liquid. She opened the vial and reached a bony hand inside. Drawing the feather out, she licked her lips, sliding it into her mouth. When the witch opened her mouth, a green smoke rose out. It hung in the air, choking the girl. She gasped when the green smoke enveloped her. She then gripped her neck as a violet smoke rose out of her own mouth. Before she could scream, everything went black...

"My little Raven, my pretty little Raven, give me one of your feathers; I see a man coming by!" A voice woke the Raven from her tedious slumber, awoken by the song that was sung by the witch when she spots her next victim. The old woman's voice was broken and tattered, much like her appearance. She reached a withered hand towards the cage, making the Raven flutter its wings in protest. It squawked and screeched, its useless attempt to escape making the witch hiss.

"Pass me one, pass me one! The man is coming closer, oh my, he looks of royal descent! Quickly now!" When the Raven only squawked more, the witch grabbed it, her hand darting through the golden bars of the cage and around the Raven's neck. Her hand was old and tarnished yet her grip was deadly. The Raven gave an inaudible noise that was somewhat a groan. Its eyes bulged from their sockets and its feathers pale, which was quite unusual considering it was a Raven. But quite appropriate considering it was a woman in a Raven's clothing.

The witch plucked off a feather and placed it in her mouth. She smiled, pulling the feather that was now a featherless stick out of her mouth and dropped it. The witch opened her mouth, letting it hang open like a door with broken hinges. Instantly, wisps of violet-blue smoke arose from the Raven in the cage and into the witch's mouth. And out the witch's mouth came wisps of green smoke. The poison-like smoke came towards the Raven but it hid away and shadowed from it. The green smoke only became aggressive. It circled around the helpless bird, winding around it so it choked the bird white.

After under a minute of straining and struggling, the Raven had to open its beak. The green wisps entered and surrounded the it in a tight ball of encasement. The two colors of smoke filled the small room with a never-ending fog. When it dispersed, it revealed a beautiful young woman and a worn-out-looking Raven.

The woman squealed in pleasure and spun around, black hair whipping around. Raven's hair. And Raven's face, eyes, mouth and body. The bird screeched in disapproval, not liking the witch wearing its appearance.

It screeched louder when the witch turned towards the window as if to say, 'That is not you!' The witch, of course, ignored the shrieking bird, its cries resembling those of a sick woman's.

The witch carried on to the window, propping her elbows on the ledge and placing her her chin on her hands. "Good morning, my good sir! How would you like some sugar?" She said in Raven's voice. The Raven flinched in an un-animal-like way when the witch winked at the boy outside the window. She grimanced when the witch led the boy inside.

Now able to see him, the Raven noticed that the boy wasn't even older than twenty, seventeen at the most. It also noticed that the witch was wrong; the boy was not from royal descent. Maybe a Noble's son but not a King's. But he was clothed in fine garments that definitely shouted 'I am copious in riches!' and that was enough for the witch.

The Raven looked on through the bars of its cage, pitying the fool's cruel death. 'They never last a week.' It thought, 'The witch always gets to them before one.' With that, the Raven shook its head, gazing at its taloned feet. It looked up from and met the gaze of the boy. The boy's eyes widened, for a lone tear streaked out the bird's beady eye and it started to transform.