The Raven

Eighteen

Princess Elaina. The name has been repeating in Caleb's mind ever since Henry first mentioned her. While Caleb dreams of a future with his handsome prince, he cannot help but be flooded with unwanted emotions at the very thought of the princess. Now that he is alone, his mind circles the idea that perhaps Henry will be forced to marry her--or any princess, for that matter. It is what is traditionally done within their kingdom, and if the queen is so insistent that it continues, how can Caleb wholeheartedly believe that things will somehow suddenly change?

And besides that, this kingdom has also never had a same-sex couple as its rulers before. Although he wholly believes that everyone should be free to love who they love, Caleb is certain that not everyone within their borders will agree with that sentiment. He has read countless stories of people being shunned for their sexual orientation. What if his joining with Prince Henry in such a way brings forth an unexpected uprising among the citizens? Caleb's heart cracks at the thought. He could not possibly withstand seeing Henry cast out by his people simply for being with him; the sight would undoubtedly shatter him, as well.

If only he could use his magic to change their minds.

No, he would not be able to bring himself to do such a thing; he cares far too much for the well-being of others to manipulate their minds. He would have to find some other, less exploiting way to show them that a person's gender or orientation does not define him or her.

With heaviness in his chest, the raven takes a deep breath in hopes of calming the raging storm inside him. Certainly, he has felt jealousy and unsureness before, but never to this extent. It feels as if the queen is taking his heart directly from his chest and serving it to Princess Elaina on a silver platter without caring or regard for him in the slightest. With the understanding that the queen could not possibly know of Caleb's fondness for her son and therefore is entirely unaware of how her actions so profoundly affect him, the raven realizes that his overwhelming feeling of betrayal is altogether unprecedented. He only wishes that the painful sensations within him could dull at least a little.

What Caleb would give to be a princess instead of the disgusting creation that he is.

That would likely solve all of the problems currently imposing upon him.

Quickly shifting into his raven form, he perches himself on the windowsill, his glowing red eyes peering out into the familiar yet still unknown garden. Even his favorite view is not enough to tame the wild thoughts running rampant in his mind, the desperate need for even a short reprieve gnawing at his insides in the most anxious and despairing way.

Perhaps practicing his magic would relieve some of the emotional distress he is currently suffering. The transition from raven to shadow comes far easier and more quickly than Caleb had expected; the shift is flawless and sends a rush of excitement through the ruby-eyed boy. Raven effortlessly shifts from his shadow to a plume of black smoke that looms in the air in his dark, lonely tower room with increased confidence in both himself and his magic.

A loud slam echoes through the room, followed by his mother's shrieking voice. "Raven!" she screeches. The woman's sudden appearance startles Caleb into another shift and causes his human body to fall to the floor with a thud.

"Good Heavens, you scared me!" his mother exclaims, her hand tightly grasping her chest as she heaves loudly in an attempt to calm herself. If Caleb was not already preoccupied with the pain radiating through him from the sudden fall, he might find her horrified expression and slightly disheveled appearance to be amusing.

Caleb groans before staggering to his feet, swaying on his unsteady legs as they shake beneath him. He rubs his hands soothingly over his bottom, which is now sore from the hard landing, before raising his gaze to meet his mother's. "I apologize, Mother," he says out of habit, his voice tinged with the pain shooting through his backside. "I was practicing my magic and had not anticipated your arrival."

"And?" she asks impatiently, her foot tapping on the concrete floor. "Have you improved? Show me," she prompts, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at the raven with an expression of doubt about his abilities. The look she gives him is not a foreign one to Caleb; he has never given her a reason to believe he might be exceptional at what he does. He has been keeping a lid on the true extent of his skills, hiding them from her until he knows whether or not he can trust her.

Taking a deep breath, Caleb repeats the process from human to raven, to shadow, to smoke, then gracefully transitions back to a human once more; this time, he avoids falling to the unforgiving floor. His mother stands in shock for a moment as she watches him transform effortlessly and with haste that she has never before seen in his magic. She stares at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, her brain lagging as it processes the sight before her.

Nodding her head once, she commands, "Again."

Again and again, Caleb performs his shifts for his mother, waiting for her to voice her approval. Over and over, he transforms into different versions of himself. He continues until his body and mind are exhausted, and his mother seems satisfied. Collapsing to the floor, the raven's chest heaves as he tries desperately to calm his racing heart. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, the overly tired boy feels sleep trying to overtake him.

"You have done well," the raven's mother says. "Rest for tonight, Raven. You can continue practicing come morning. Now that you have seemingly mastered the shifts themselves, I believe you need to work on controlling your movements in those forms. You have evidently excelled with your raven, but your shadow and smoke will likely need a significant amount of work." She shuts off the light as she exits the room, locking the door behind her and leaving no room for argument.

Not that Caleb would argue. He is far too wiped out to even bother speaking at this moment. And besides that, he would never dare to talk back to his mother; it has been a while since his last lashing, but he certainly does not want to repeat it any time soon. Too tired to lift himself from his place on the floor, the raven allows sleep to wash over him, bringing dreams of a blond-haired prince along with it.