He looked up once again. This time the raven bent down to his height, his face in front of hers. His hands were now on the raven’s mask as he looked into her eyes, then he closed his eyes and planted a kiss on her beak. She reciprocated by cradling his face in her hands, then Marc noticed a few feathers floating out, before realizing they were emanating from her. He stood back as the raven took a couple steps away.

The raven spread her arms out to her sides. Out of the large sleeves sprouted black feathers, wings! Soon the sleeves disappeared as the rest of her robe became

enveloped in feathers, so quickly that they scattered in the air. They gracefully fell to the floor at her feet, drawing his eyes to the bottom of her robe (which resembled tail feathers). She held her head up as she transformed, and Marc stood back, his eyes wider than they’d ever been in his entire life, speechless and awestruck.

When she had finished her body looked much more avian, yet still had the familiar silhouette of her robe. Marc took in this sight when she walked back towards him. Her mask still remained, but looked more a part of her now rather than just a mask. He stared up at her, still amazed by what he just saw. Then his expression changed to something more somber. Somehow, he knew where this was going.

“Is this going to be goodbye?” He asked. The raven’s confirmation tightened his frown. His head looked down. “I… I guess I knew this wouldn’t last forever.”

He then looked back up. “I wish it did. I’m going to miss you so much.”

The raven bent down, her face in front of Marc’s. He reached out to touch her face, his fingers tracing the curvature and silver linings, before putting his forehead to her’s and closing his eyes. He felt her wings on his shoulders, giving him one last embrace. Their last moment together lasted almost thirty seconds before they let go. Even when he convinced himself he was ready, it still hurt. The raven turned and took a couple steps as she prepared to take off. Her wings extended, then gave a large flap, letting her soar off. Marc felt the wind gust from it as he watched her fly away into the seemingly endless back sky, her shape becoming smaller the farther she flew away until she was out of sight completely. He’d collapsed to his knees, and a tear ran down his face when he could see her no more. Now all that was left was him in the dark emptiness of the room.

Gradually, the grand room filtered away and his surroundings came into better view. He could clearly see the room he was in now, which was close to the size of the ballroom he originally entered, but now looked dilapidated, and any color it might’ve had was completely dulled by years of negligence. If not for the room he’d seen before, he wouldn’t even think this could’ve ever been that ballroom. After looking around, he finally noticed in his lap was a feather. He held it up to look more closely at it. A black feather, larger than an average raven’s feather, with a noticeable shine to it. He clutched it to his chest.

Getting back on his feet, he walked around the room, seeing the glorious ballroom from the past now reduced to this. He put a hand on the table he’d sat by before as he walked past, feeling the wooden texture scraping under his palm. What was smooth before was now rough. Taking in the room one last time, he turned around and slowly left.

Five days had passed since that night. During a break from filming, Marc overheard the rest of the cast talking from across the table.

“So what happened with that ghost?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen or heard a thing in days.”

“Yeah, it just stopped.”

“Really?”

“Huh, that’s weird.”

“Man, I didn’t even get to see it!”

He heard what they said, but he didn’t listen, he didn’t want to. He couldn’t even bring himself to look up at them. He didn’t want to be reminded of the bittersweet departure from the raven, but it was inevitable there. Of all the things he originally thought would’ve come out of joining this production, he never would’ve thought that night with the raven would have ever transpired and left an impact like this on him.

After the day was over Marc headed back to his apartment, barely saying a word to anyone at the studio. Upon returning home, he wearily trudged to his room, didn’t bother turning any lights on, collapsed on the bed, and stared at the ceiling. He stayed that way for a solid minute before turning over to the sketchbook he’d left out. He held it in front of him, looking at his most recent drawing, still a work in progress but not far from something finished: An illustration of the raven’s silver mask, standing out amongst the dark. Flipping to the next page, his gaze fell on the feather he kept. It was all he had left of her other than the memories and visions.

“Maybe in another life,” He thought. “I will see you again…”

Secret of The Raven © 2018, Jackie Caslis