Kathryn was far away at the time, meditating in the Chapel of the Raven Queen. She sat cross legged in front of the alter, eyes closed, hands locked.
All was quiet beside-she could hear only the flutter of silky black wings in the darkness-they were her lullaby, for many and many a year, truth be told. She had never known her real family. The crescent mark upon her hip, so boldly writ-it scared them enough they gave her away. Not to say, they weren't good people. She had seen this for herself under guise, though Kathryn did not deign approach them. But she had grown up in a chapel like this, instead of a home...
Reflections. She was not beaten-not starved-not tormented. Nothing so cliched. Her childhood was happy, in a way-her brothers and sisters in black, as sure a family as she might have had. Kathryn had indeed grown up being told she was destined for great things, and there was hardly anything she lacked, in reason. But still...there was an emptiness. A barely definable sense that she had no freedom-no choice. But there was nothing else for her to aspire to. In time, Kathryn accepted it. Mostly.
She surprised them by going into the Arcane Studies instead of joining the Clergy or Order of Raven Knights. Truth be told, Kathryn had never felt much in the way of a divine connection-more a feeling of pressure, of being watched. If anything at all, her dreams were as close as had gotten. An image of a shadowy woman, judging from afar.
When she had left the Temple-for Kathryn was truly free to do and go wherever she pleased-she had found a world that often misunderstood and shunned her. It was...tiring. But Kathryn was also proud. She did not hide her identity, nor change her appearance. Children ran from her path (laughing more often than screaming), and women and men often made the sign of Pelor at her, as if warding off a newly risen Vampire in their midst. When bad things happened-and they did, everywhere-she would often be approached and politely asked to move on. And so she did.
...
Then came Lon-a chance encounter, to his credit, he saved her. That she had been locked in a gilded cage, on display in a Red Dragons treasure den, is a story for another day.
He was seemingly immune to her deathly legend, or uncaring of it. Their adventures had been beyond count-their friendship, forged in fire and steel-and music, of course. Had they not broken the last piece of bread between them often enough? Soaked lifesblood into the others shirts, as they hurriedly tended to one anothers wounds? All that and more. Kathryn believed that she might not have found the strength to go on, if they had not met each other. Also the Dragon would have eaten her eventually, but like I said-another day.
...
Now things...were different. Kathryn had Navarre, as well. They had each other. She was happier than she had been in a long time. Lon was a friend....Navarre a lover. Two sides of a coin, and she dearly hoped that Fate would not make her choose between them.
She knew all too well, Life could be very fragile, which was why she treasured spending hers with then them. They were all fated to die...but they were both young, and strong, and fast-and what was Death? A pale woman on the horizon, they could still outrun. The Raven Queen would have to wait to pick them up-Kathryn intended to live, and love, harder than she ever had before. If the prophecy was really true, Death would one day fear her. Then she would never have to lose anyone, ever again.
She smiles at this thought, deep in the darkness.