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7 RAVENS
by Tucker McCallahan
A man and his wife blessed with many acres
of land produced bountiful harvests every season of grains, vegetables, fruits,
and nuts. The gods smiled on them further, and year after year the wife gave
birth to the most beautiful daughters the country-folk had ever seen. Seven in
total and named for the days of the week, the daughters were sweet-natured,
kind, loving, graceful, gentle, hard-working, and very fair of face.
The man and his wife were not happy,
however. Despite their many blessings, they wished for a son, a male child to
inherit their lands and carry on the family name. For surely daughters were
wonderful, but they would leave the household to make homes for others. A son
would stay on and work the land his father worked, the land handed down from
father to son in an endless line.
When they had long since given up hope,
the wife became pregnant and once more they dared to dream of having an heir.
The birth the long and difficult, but when the babe emerged, it was indeed a
boy. Their joy was tremendous but short-lived, for the child was sickly and
small. Fearing the child would die, the midwife suggested they hasten to
purify, bless and name the boy, for all know bestowing a name grants power.
The father sent the eldest daughter Sunday
to race to the well and fetch water for the baptism. Her six sisters ran
alongside her, eager to aid their new brother, already so beloved to their
parents. When they reached the well, though, an argument broke out. Each girl
had an opinion about how the water should be dipped out to best insure its
purity for the baptism and wiccaning. The girls squabbled amongst themselves,
their bickering growing noisier and nastier. One pushed another, and the next
thing they knew all seven scuffled back and forth in a vicious free-for-all of
shoving, pinching, slapping and hair-pulling.
Splash!
As one, the girls froze, eyes rounding in
horror. They all disengaged and looked to the lip of the well where the jug had
been. In their petty fighting, the only container they had that would hold
water had gotten pushed or jostled or nudged or had somehow tipped over into
the well. The seven sisters stared at each other in petrified terror, and
rather than blame each other, each one felt guilt deep in her heart and blamed
herself for failing the brother her parents wanted so badly.
Not knowing what else to do, they set off
for their farm at a turtle’s pace.
When his daughters did not return as they
should’ve, the father grew impatient and angry. “They’ve forgotten what they
were sent for, simple girls!”
Fearing his only son would die without
being baptized or named, he let his fury take over. “Their heads are always in
the clouds! Useless as a flock of birds. I wish they’d all turn into ravens!”
No sooner had the words crossed his lips
than he felt the shift in his heart. He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to
figure out what had happened and heard the whirring flutter of a multitude of
wings. As his eyes shot skyward, his jaw dropped open. Seven large, coal-black
ravens flew up and away from the farm overhead.
The father couldn’t take back his curse,
and no amount of praying to the gods won the parents any sort of reprieve. However
devastated they were by the tragic loss of their seven daughters, they took
comfort in their beloved son. Despite his difficult birth he did not perish. He
was named North after the great wind that blew down from the mountain, and he
grew into a tall, broad-shouldered boy with strong limbs, eyes as blue as the
summer skies, and thick, jet-black hair that curled in careless ringlets about
his sweetly gentle face.
For many years North didn’t know he had
ever had sisters; his parents made certain they never mentioned the girls nor
the circumstances surrounding his birth. One day, though, he overhead some of
the country-folk talking about him. They said North was handsome enough, strong
as any other young man, and brave to be sure, but in truth he was to blame for
his seven sisters’ misfortune, and such ill luck would surely haunt him until
the end of his days. This troubled North greatly and he confronted his parents.
He demanded to know if he had ever had sisters, and if he had, what had
happened to them.
No longer able to keep the secret, his
parents told North the story of his birth, but spun the tale so it seemed like
Fate had turned his seven sisters into ravens. That his birth might have had
anything to do with such a loss ate at North’s conscience every day. Unable to
work the fields, tend the gardens, or concentrate on any of his chores, North
came to believe he would have to redeem his sisters or else go mad.
He had neither rest nor peace until he set
forth hoping to find his sisters and set them free, regardless of the cost. He
left secretly in the dead of night, knowing if his parents discovered his plan
they would try to stop him, for they loved him more than anything else in the
world, and he was all the offspring they had left. North was determined in his
course of action, though, and set out with nothing in his pack but a loaf of
bread for hunger, a flask of water for thirst, a bedroll for weariness, and his
hunting blade for protection. On his right hand he wore the ring of his father,
given to him when he became a man. The ring bore the symbol of their family,
and his sisters, were they still alive somewhere in the world, would surely
recognize such a thing.
For days and days North walked on and on –
far, far to the end of the world. He realized the glowing ball of brilliant
light he wandered toward was not the realm of the gods but the sun, and upon
figuring this out, shielded his tender eyes. The sun’s voice filled the skies
and shook the ground beneath North’s feet.
“Who approaches so near to me?”
“My name is North.”
“Come closer, little North.”
North inched closer. Flames leapt off the
sun’s surface. Scorching hot, they burned everything they touched. North was so
near to the sun the tips of his boots blackened. North peered at the sun
through slitted eyes, his skin reddening, and swore he saw within the sun a
cruelly beautiful demon.
“Come closer, little North. I hunger.”
“No, I shall not!”
North turned and fled, his boots smoking
and his skin sunburnt.
He walked in the opposite direction for
many days, on and on – far, far to the other end of the world. Once again he
saw a glowing ball of radiant light. This time, though, the light was white,
not yellow, and North knew he had walked to the moon. Every bit as bright as
the sun, North once again had to shield his eyes as he approached the
iridescent glory of the full moon. The moon’s voice filled up the air and pressed
in on North as if it consumed all the space around him. Tingles ran along North’s
skin and he shivered as the moon spoke.
“Who approaches so near to me?”
“My name is North.”
“Come closer, North.”
North inched closer. His breath formed an
icy cloud, and then he felt the frigid chill emanating from the moon. Freezing
cold, the wintry blasts froze everything they touched. North was so near to the
moon his toes went numb. Peering at the moon through frosted eyelashes, North
swore he saw within the moon a wicked lovely demon.
“Come closer, North. I hunger.”
North turned and fled, his toes stinging
and his skin raw from the biting cold.
In despair, North looked heavenward. There
in the sky he saw a lone raven, its wings spread wide as it rode a thermal. As
North watched, it rode the wind, that very same wind he’d been named for, and
disappeared from his sight into the stars.
“Then that is who I shall ask,” North
thought. “The stars.”
He hurried north and came to the place
where the earth met the stars. To his surprise, they were all laid out across
the sky with little bedrolls just like his.
“Join us!” they called. “Put down your
bed!”
So North unrolled his bedroll among the
stars and laid down, resting his read for a time. They were kind and good,
gentle and caring. They sang songs and taught North about the eternal chase of
the sun and the moon. When he had learned all their lessons, the Morning Star
came to lay beside him.
“We know where to find your sisters.”
“Oh please! Tell me!”
“I do not think the knowledge will bring
you any joy.”
“But all I want in the world is to have my
sisters back.”
“Even if it costs you your father’s love?”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Believe me, North. If I tell you where to
find your sisters, it will change your life forever.”
North frowned. He lay on his bedroll and
quietly contemplated the morning star’s words. He watched the other stars come
out, dance, twinkle and play. Stars had such carefree and easy lives. North envied
them for just a moment. Then he remembered how just the knowledge of his
sisters’ existence had tormented him. He wouldn’t be able to return home
knowing he could’ve saved them. He turned to the morning star.
“Tell me.”
“They are in the glass mountain to the far
north.”
“That’s all?”
All the stars had gone quiet and gazed at
North. The morning star met his eyes.
“And they are guarded by one who hungers
for the flesh of men.”
“A demon? I’ve met the sun and the moon. I
know of their hungers.”
“Yes, he is a demon, but he is nothing
like the sun or the moon. Their war is never-ending and their hunger is
balanced. He has nothing to balance his hunger. It is all consuming.”
Though terror struck at his heart, North
concealed it. He rose, packed up his bedroll and gathered his belongings, and
went on his way again until he came to the glass mountain. The doors to the
mountain were tremendous and as he expected, they were locked tight. His heart
thudding frantically against his ribs, North raised his hand and knocked upon
the door. The hollow sound reverberated throughout the glass mountain.
A shadow fell across the doorway. North stood
a full six feet, yet this shadow dwarfed him. He cast him eyes to the floor and
waited, dreading the voice of this new demon. The guardian of the glass
mountain sounded like the rumbling of boulders cascading down the mountain.
“Who demands entrance to the glass
mountain?”
“My name is North.”
“Look upon my face, North.”
Pulled by both the mesmerizing sound of
his voice and his command, North’s eyes flipped up and locked on the demon’s
face. His breath caught as he stared at the man. Just a man, but the single
most exquisite man North had ever laid eyes upon. His face looked like it had
been carved from white marble, pure and flawless, without a single
imperfection. He easily stood a full foot taller than North, his body chiseled
and roped with muscles. Then he smiled, and it was more dazzling than either
the sun or the moon.
“My name is Cliff. I’m the guardian of the
glass mountain. Before I allow you inside, I must know why you’ve come.”
It was on the tip of North’s tongue to
lie. After all, he’d told the sun and the moon the truth and it had gotten him
nowhere. But he’d been raised to tell the truth and he spoke honestly to Cliff.
“I’m searching for my seven sisters,
cursed into the form of ravens.”
“Ah, the raven-girls. Yes, they reside
here with me.” Cliff looked North over, and the longer he gazed upon the
well-built farm boy, the more he liked what he saw. “I shelter and feed them,
keep them safe.”
“Then I am in your debt.”
“You wish them restored to human form?”
“More than anything in the world.”
“I have the power to grant your wish and
give you what you want. But you must pay the price for entry into the glass mountain,
and pay for your wish as well.”
Nearly overwhelmed with success so close
to hand, North found his eyes full of tears. “I have no money, nothing to pay
you with. Please…”
“I want nothing so mundane as money,
North,” Cliff said. He reached one large hand out and caressed North’s black
curls, then his cheek, tracing the edge of his jaw until his hand fell away and
landed on North’s broad expanse of chest. Cliff boldly felt the swell of his
pectoral muscle, the line of his ribs, and finally curved his hand around North’s
waist and drew him close.
“The price for entry is one body part. To
pay for your wish, I’ll get to choose the body part, and I get to keep it…
forever.”
North stared at him, the morning star’s
warning ringing in his ears. So Cliff might look like a man but he was a demon.
What could he possibly want? North thought about spending the rest of his life
without a hand or a foot, without an arm or a knee. But what was one piece of
his body compared to seven sisters? Seven females who could marry and have
children? He took a deep breath and met Cliff’s amazing eyes, a shade of blue
far deeper than his.
“Very well.”
Cliff lifted North into his arms and
carried him into the glass mountain. He took North first to a bathing chamber
and washed away the dirt and weariness of North’s many long travels. Once North
was clean and well-relaxed, Cliff carried him to the center of the mountain.
Laying North out on his bed, Cliff spent long leisurely hours touching,
kissing, and caressing his youthful, naked body. This was all new to North, who
had up to this point only stolen a few kisses with young girls behind the barn.
Cliff wasn’t about to stop at kisses. He
spent hours showing North how the male body worked and helping North learn what
aroused him, what touches he liked most and how North might find release alone
or with a partner. After several days in Cliff’s bed chamber, North had only to
hear his lover approaching from the hallway and he would harden in anticipation
of what was to come. He loved the feel of Cliff’s hands and mouth on his body
and thrilled in lying beside him. Holding Cliff, North knew a contentment he’d
never felt in all the days of his life.
He was so content, he almost forgot why he
was in the glass mountain.
On the seventh day, however, as North lay
nude and sated beneath his lover, a fluttery whirring filled the air and from
high above, the seven ravens entered the glass mountain and spiraled down
cawing loudly. Shocked and guilty, North sat up, tears streaming down his face.
“Why do you weep?” Cliff asked, wiping at
his tears with one large thumb.
“They have waited long enough,” North
said, gesturing at the seven ravens perched around the chamber. “Take the body
part you wish to keep and turn them back!”
“North, my simple, foolish, beloved child,”
Cliff said with a sigh. He reached down and palmed North’s perfect cock. “This is the part I wish to keep forever, and I find I have no wish to separate
you from it.” He leaned down and gently kissed North’s astonished and slightly
open mouth.
Rising from their bed, he called on the
magic of the mountain and changed North’s sisters back into their human forms
again. They crowded around the two men, weeping joyously at being reunited with
their brother.
After several days of celebration, they
prepared to travel home. Much to the dismay of the seven sisters, North refused
to leave.
“My place is with Cliff here in the glass
mountain.”
North removed the ring from his finger and
gave it to them.
“Take this to our parents and tell them I
have found happiness and contentment, even if it is not the life they would’ve
chosen for me. Tell them I love them, and I return to them the daughters they
would’ve forsaken for love of me.”
The seven sisters returned to the farm
with the ring, but their father refused to hear their words. Instead he
insisted to all North perished rescuing his sisters from the beast who had kept
them captive all those long years. A stone grew in his heart, and the farm
slowly withered and failed as the seven sisters married and left.
But as for North and Cliff, they lived together
in the glass mountain sustained by their love, magic, and the north wind even
as the stars climbed into their bedrolls, zippered them fully, and winked out,
leaving the world in darkness.
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