Excerpt: Ever the Fallen

Thane scowled slightly… and walked down the river stone path. There was a small herb garden, which seemed to be fighting a battle for space with weeds.. The porch itself sagged with age, and was even more cluttered than the yard itself. Thane estimated there had to be at least a hundred wind chimes dangling, sending a chorus of discordant notes at ever stir of the air. Old pottery of every shape and size, more boxes of various glass bottles and vials.. There were four different rocking chairs and two spinning wheels that no longer even seemed useable. Odd contraptions of wood and metal that he didn’t even recognize the use of, some in pieces, some rusted or dry rotted, had been shoved aside or piled in corners. He disturbed no fewer than eight cats when he stepped onto the derelict front porch of the house, several of them casting baleful glares and at least one hissing before dashing away. As he reached the door, he noticed a large population of rather healthy looking spiders making there homes in every eve and corner. He knocked lightly at the door, paused, then a bit more firmly, incase the old hag was hard of hearing. Soon he heard a shuffling of footsteps, slow movements of someone who had difficulty with the simple task of walking. The door creaked open, and a waft of scents hit him at once.. Spices, tea, incense, and the less pleasant undertones of mold, dust, and cat urine. “Well come in, come in… “ spoke and old crackled and strained voice. Thane, nose wrinkling with mild disgust, stepped into the home of the one known as Sarllia. She shuffled to the middle of the somewhat cramped kitchen, the countertops and table both covered in ever manner of odd device, polished stone, glass container, box, pots and pans, flower pots, some looking a little less than healthy, and at least a dozen tea pots, all completely different. There were as many, if not more cats inside the house, these a bit less bothered by his presence, one, a rather overweight orange striped one, even coming over to twine about his ankles. A great horned owl perched on a beam on the ceiling, It had been asleep when he came in, head under one wing. Now it stared at him with wide orange eyes, and hooted quietly once. There were other birds as well, several ravens, flapping about, perching on one spot, then another. A blue jay squawked its annoyance at his presence, and landed on the woman’s shoulder… two snowy owls slept on another beam side by side. Thane wondered how she didn’t have regular casualties amongst her little pets, what with all the cats and birds being kept together. Sarillia was not simply an old human, she was ancient by their standards.. White hair was a frizzy mess, in wild tangles, woven with beads and feathers and other odd baubles, and hung to mid back. Her face was little more than a drooping mass of wrinkles, her eyes a milkly sunken in blue.. She grinned at him, toothless. She leaned heavily on a gnarled knotted cane as she shuffled around to face him. Thane, scowled darkly in return. He just wanted to ask his questions, find out if there was any truth behind what she supposedly knew.. Then get out of the run down, infested filthy place. It would seem however, the old hag had other ideas, she spoke, in that strange cracked weak voice of hers… Thane was rarely surprised, but her words rooted him to the spot in actual shock, violet eyes widening.
“It’s about time you finally came to see Old Sarllia, Lord of Ravens.”