The Great Raven

Eva couldn't take her eyes off the five ravens perched on their raised bench at the edge of the clearing, eyeing her sternly. An icy breeze wafted in. It pierced the young woman to the core and made her shiver. A strange scent reached her nostrils, sweet and earthy at the same time, as if a fresh grave had opened. She felt dizzy.

It creaked and cracked loudly behind her, wood shifted and broke. But the scaffolding didn't collapse. It only changed. It became smaller, bent, almost crouched and changed shape. Eva felt it more than she saw it. Her vision blurred.

Out of the corner of her eye, as if in a thick fog, she saw a man approaching from behind. No, not a man, a figure with human proportions, but with a raven's skull on his neck. A flowing cloak of black bird feathers hung loosely from his shoulders.

Dread stricken, Eva closed her eyes, but could not banish the image. It seemed to be burned into her retina. She heard his heavy footsteps crunching on the stony ground as he circled her.

“What are you doing here?”

The words formed directly in her head. Eva understood them without having to think about it. He - It? - wasn't talking about this clearing. He was talking about her escape from the city to the mountains. And beyond that, he asked what she expected from her life and, in a metaphysical way, what her place and purpose in the universe should be.

The answer was obvious: she didn't know herself.

How could she know if she couldn't see? Didn't want to see.

She **** herself to open her eyes again and look at the figure that had stopped in front of her, not an arm's length away.

Now she realized that it was a human after all, a man wearing an oversized raven skull on his head like a mask. His face lay in the shadow of the sharp, pointed beak. From the deep-set eye sockets, he stared at her with his large, shiny black pupils, piercing, penetrating, as if he were gazing deep into her. He looked into her soul and revealed secrets that she had hidden even from herself.

Eva's gaze drifted downwards. The wide coat gaped open and revealed that the man underneath was naked. Powerful muscles stretched across his chest and his stomach looked like a washboard. Even lower down, thick, coal-black hair sprouted, with a pole sticking out of it. A young, unmarried woman of Eva's standing shouldn't really be able to identify what it was, but to her it was no surprise. She understood why the staff stood upright, thick and plump and red. From the clearly visible veins that ran along its impressive length, she could tell the rapid pulse of his heart.

She should be outraged, should avert her eyes in embarrassment, as custom and decency demanded. But she didn't.

Instead, she raised her hands to her collar and began to carefully undo her dress button by button.

Her thoughts were buzzing. Why was she doing this? Was it her own decision or had this strange person, who seemed to exert an uncanny control over her, planted an idea in her head?

One thing was certain: she did it. And she had no doubt that it was the right thing to do.