The Ivory Crow

PART I

She believed in the afterlife, had been swept into Death’s wings and giving the kiss of forever-slumber from the pains of living, the tedium of dying. Somewhere, she washed up on the shores of the afterlife, cradled by the very element she once ever-so-expertly controlled. Her name? Riptide. Her legacy? One of the strongest metahumans to exist, drowning injustice with ease and precision. To think the life of a titan of that magnitude could be snuffed out by a measly human, a paltry waste of energy… it burned like scalding water. And those she left behind… burned by a continued existence. Alone and abandoned, but none so much as the one known as “Rapture.” The yokai priestess had held Riptide’s fading form as she slipped between perceived slivers of death until finally succumbing to her end. She had died unwell, nothing noble or fitting for such a stalwart. Rapture’s smaller stature made for a poor gathering of longer limbs, yet she held steadfast and did not weep. Perhaps, another day. In that moment, her soul and bones were too tired and her mind occupied with protecting the two from further attack with walls of scalding-hot blood. Riptide had said nothing in her final moments. No goodbyes. Just a spirit Rapture could see leaving her comrade’s body, and an entire being filled with rage and the determination to end HOPE.

PART II

“Hope,” Ryuuzaki ground her teeth. She had come a long way for hope, sought after in the remnants of a past gone wrong in every way. The ordeal in Jump City with DOMA had led her to the other side of the world, a more familiar side, something caustic yet strangely calming. She stood on the southern shore of Japan, bordering the East China Sea. A looming fog set a fitting tone of nulling chill. Upon the eerie beach stood and even eerier tree, the color of ivory and obsidian, as if two seeds had joined in one to create the bizarre, barren anomaly. It was a signpost for the living and the dead, often rife with spiritual activity. In Rapture’s presence, however, most spirits stayed clear in fear of being reaped before their time despite the girl’s intentions. However, stranger than the ghostly tree was a single occupant –– an abnormally white crow with three black eyes and three sturdy legs, peering through the fog as it watched Rapture’s movements carefully.

Rapture had never seen such a daunting figure. Its spirit felt old and worn, as if it had been on countless journeys through countless existences. It hunched over, looking rather raggedy yet stately, important without trying. Noble, worn. Dignified and scrappy. There was an element of brashness, like an old war veteran unwilling to settle down. He stared, now with intention, but did not budge from his perch. Instead, Rapture felt a sense of obligation to approach the daunting beast. At her heart, a rough tug of Akai Ito surged through and toward the crow, bizarrely strong for a first meeting. She was here to offer blood and reminisce, not fall into the crutches of a strange being. And yet, her feet took her toward the tree, Akai Ito winding like a rope, bringing her closer.

“Iðunn,” the crow suddenly spoke, voice raspy with age and low with importance. How it knew her name, she didn’t know. Nothing good could come from this, yet she felt tethered. Fear bolted through her veins while curiosity kept her weighted down. “Iðunn Ymirsson-Ryuuzaki, daughter of Try Ymirsson and Yukitsu Ryuuzaki, friend of Riptide, doubter of the Gods…”

“I… I am…” Rapture managed, transfixed by the crow’s glowing middle eye, his third eye, all-seeing. “I am who you say I am.”

The crow bowed. “I am known by many names,” he stated, “but to most, I am simply the ‘Ivory Crow.’ I have been awaiting your return, when you have washed your guilt away in these sacred waters. Your friend is truly free, Iðunn. And I have a use for you.”

PART III

For the next few hours –– or what seemed to be, at least, for time had no meaning on this beach –– the Ivory Crow explained the “use” he had of her; the once-great spirit had lost most of his power due to the lack of religious belief within the region, caused by minds ‘warped’ by new gods and atheism, as he put it. People now worshipped Media, Technology, Government, and more. So little gave time to the old spirits, even fewer devoted their soul. He needed a vessel to survive, a point to be tethered to beside the infernal tree, watching listlessly as souls came and went, became lost and stranded. The Great Red Dragon had been quiet until the Crow had made it obvious that he wanted, although reluctantly as a stubborn old man could be, to join the trifecta. The Golden Scorpion seemed to not care whether the ancient newcomer joined or not so long as he could offer something useful in return. The Mother Tiger remained passive, but Rapture could sense a bit of excitement in the prospect of someone different to interact with beside Scorpion and Dragon. But no matter the decision, this would be difficult; it was one thing to be born with three inherited spirits, another to form a symbiotic relationship.

“What use do I have for you?” Rapture countered, not unkindly.

The Crow understood. “Much, but only that which you are willing to work for. I can offer you unhindered flight, my wings of war that protect and attack. A keener eye into the realm of spirits… however, you must first learn to fly, and to open your third eye wider. On these timeless sands, you can accomplish anything you put your mind to and the waking world will not spin. Train, and become stronger. Reap the wandering souls of this infernal crossing for sustenance.”

The yokai priestess furrowed her brows. ‘Flight? That would be amazing, and incredibly helpful. I came here for answers and am being presented with solutions. To become more powerful, to pluck answers from the void of my past,’ she pondered. ‘It all seems too good to be true.’

“It all seems to be good to be true, doesn’t it?” the Ivory Crow seemed to read her mind. “Flight, answers, power, and your past. You seek a solution to a problem mirroring that which led to disaster, history repeating itself. HOPE, DOMA… simple acronyms with titanic impact. I can see into your past, Rapture, and can sense your future. Am I truly that unrecognizable?”

Her mind reeled with confusion and tinges of fear; if sharing knowledge he had no right to know of in the first place was meant to placate her, it did the opposite; demons knew of unknowable things… had she fought him? Why should she recognise him? A third-eyed crow with three legs… “You can’t be…” she whispered hoarsely, the truth tightening her throat. “You are…”

PART IV

“Yatagarasu,” Rapture and the crow said simultaneously. It was one thing to meet a three-eyed and three-legged crow, but Yatagarasu, the ancient creature of lore that represented the bridge between the moon, sun, mankind, and the afterlife? How did such a mighty being come to be so… worldly? He was the stuff of legends, having played a role in the impact of the future of the imperial dynasty. He reigned over several lands, countries, and even spanned numerous religions. To witness him in such a humble form rather than the resplendent giant of yesteryears caused concern, at the very least. Yatagarasu… now the Ivory Crow.

“Belief,” the bird sighed. “If there is no one to believe in you, you dwindle and eventually are rendered powerless. But you know this better than anyone,” he continued, closing all but his third eye. “Scorpion. Mother Tiger. The Great Red Dragon… we all fall prey to superstition and non-believers. It is the only way they were able to bind with you. And yet, I see new life within your soul, as if it is a vessel for the weary that gradually takes away the aches of time away.”

The yokai priestess nodded grimly and felt her spirits do the same. They seemed to be in agreement; it would be foolish to not enlist the aid of such a powerful spirit, not to mention it being incredibly foolish to not offer aid. After some silence that stretched forever yet lasted seconds, Rapture met the Ivory Crow’s triple gaze with her own determined, piercing set of eyes. “Teach me,” she affirmed. “Tell me how to bind our spirits. I will do whatever it takes.”

The Crow smiled. “Before you learn to fly, you must learn to fall. Meet me at the Shattered Peaks on the northern shore, and there we will begin our training. You must prove yourself capable before went even think of entering each other’s worlds in ways we have yet to discover.”

'The Shattered Peaks? The destination of many who wish to end their lives?' Ryuuzaki pondered. A morbid choice, but oddly fitting. Full of spirits. A monument of opportunity to feel alive where death reigned.

PART V

Flying was just like falling, only without a permanent destination. The Crow had instructed her to jump from the Shattered Peaks where no solid ground could be perceptively seen. What would await her? Endless clouds? The ocean? A lake? She didn’t know, and yet, she jumped. But free-falling, she realised, wasn’t as serene and peaceful as it appeared on television or in old black-and-white movies that featured professional stuntmen. No, this was something different. The wind felt like fire as it swept through her hair and tore at her rosy-red cheeks, whipped her clothing upward as she went downward. Tears started streaming from her neon-blue eyes, not used to the pressurized amounts of oxygen flooding them. Her lungs screamed, the air cold and thin, as they grasped for sufficient oxygen. The bird had told her she must fall without the luxuries of safety first, and then again, and then many times after that. The first few times, she landed in an oceanic spray. Later on, the water had become still and frigid. Each time, Rapture had to not only just pick herself up, but climb the peaks. By now she had figured that going only in her underwear best suited the situation, eventually tossing her sagging shirt off –– not that she nor her spirits cared.

Neither night nor day wore by, the sun and moon shared equal parts of the sky, nothing grew, nothing died. She never hungered or needed sleep, all at the price of a restless soul. After jumping innumerable times, The Ivory Crow lit a fire and instructed Rapture to warm herself. She had mastered his first set of instructions, and now was a time of reflection. The Crow taught her the proper prayer to ignite his spirit, soon becoming second nature. A mantra rather than a prayer, she discovered, as the words settled in her brain like second nature. The Crow explained how the reverse-exorcism would work, but only with the help of her spirits and a great deal of soul sacrifice. Blood and wood, water and willingness. Before long, Rapture had gathered the necessary materials and perfected the ritual to near-completion. Only after the bird had fused with her soul would she gain her wings, a grueling process that would test her willpower and strength of mind and body.

Now, lying naked on the shores of the timeless beach with sigils, religious formations, and a gathering of curious spirits, Rapture looked up at the reaching branches of the otherworldly tree as the branches stabbed the grey sky. She had drawn the symbol of the Crow on her stomach, her palms, and her forehead –– an open eye, all-seeing, judgmental and searching, black as obsidian upon an ivory background. As a chilled breeze dulled to a bone-deep cold, the Ivory Crow began the grueling ceremony.

To classify what Rapture did as a scream fell short of its more insidious nature. The pain was nothing like she felt before, burning and cold and suffocating and electrifying. Then came the wings, erupting from her shoulder blades in a magnificent display of torture and exceptional visual horror. After passing out, the wings ceased sprouting. She needed to be awake and experience the entire ritual. But just as her vision faded for the first time, Rapture could have sworn she felt the touch of her mother's delicate hands massaging the site around the stock of her fledgling wings.

PART VI

One, two, three –– that’s how many times she failed to stay awake through the cruel ritual, but on the fourth try, Rapture managed to retain consciousness as a set of giant, billowing, magnificent, ivory wings came into full form. Heavy and cumbersome, as if two giant wet blankets had been suspended from her back. The wonder of gaining wings was lost on the pain and impracticality of her new appendages. This would all change, of course, when the Crow joined spirits and could help her maneuver them properly. But for now, the troubled teen had to do her part and begin reaping hundreds of fresh souls in order to satiate her existing spirits and that of the Ivory Crow. She had no choice but to drag the rather heavy wings across the pale sand, slicing the umbilical cords between the beach’s inhabitants and the afterlife.

Reaping used to be terrifying for Rapture, for she could see and hear each soul as she ripped their earthly anchor, whether they wanted to go or not. The less willing the soul was to go, the harder a fight it would put up, the better the rewards, for those spirits took more work. Should one be simply lost or lonely, not a whole lot of sustenance could be taken. However, on this strange land, there were so many wandering souls that they made up for their lack of potency. There were mostly childless mothers and motherless children in this area, and that would have to do. No longer did she feel any sense of remorse as she destroyed their chances of reuniting. She cared not for weeping or wailing, just the results.

However, in all her short years of carrying out this task, nothing prepared Rapture for the sight that awaited her from atop the Shattered Peaks, looking below and onto the misty beach: a line of the lost, tidy and patient. The strange queue stretch from the edge of the sea to the base of the Peaks, like a bizarre caravan of supernatural gypsies. After seeking the Crow’s advice, the petite powerhouse addressed the first in line, a victim of suicide after jumping from the cliff. He bowed of all uncouth actions to commit, holding his hands up to her.

“Please, free me," the specter whispered, and Rapture understood: these were the souls who wished to be untethered from their dull existence. Ryuuzaki nodded resolutely, wielding her bladed fans and absorbing his soul as she severed the connection. Next came an old man. Slice. A terminally ill teenager. Slice. Down the line, one by one, Rapture literally had half her work done for her in mere… well, however long you could say in a place with no measure for time. After reaping the line, she had obtained enough spiritual energy to spare. Now, for the real ordeal. The final destination. Back up the peaks, the Ivory Crow had made a grand fire, flames burning black as obsidian. “Well done, Rapture. Now, for our joining.”

“What are we actually going to do?” Rapture heaved, incredulous.

“Ha!” cackled the Crow. “Isn’t it obvious, child? We’re going to burn alive!”

PART VII

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Rapture balked. “You want me to step into a giant fire with you and that’s how we merge? That sounds like total bullshit. This is bullshit!”

The three-eyed crow stared at her, boring his eyes into herself and reeking of annoyance before flapping his wings wildly and cackling with laughter. “You believed me for a moment!” he howled. “You believed me!”


Ryuuzaki, fucking tired of all the shit that had been going on, flung one of her fans at the unbelievable creature, only to have him catch it with his third set of talons and fling it back, his disciple snatching it from the air and huffing. Her piercing gaze became so bright that it made even the Crow blink, impressed. Suddenly, the fire died out, leaving a huge pile of ash and cinder. “My earthly belongings were in that fire,” he explained, “as well as your wet clothes. My essence and your essence, burned together. Next comes the blood; a deep cut to the hand is optimal. Let yourself bleed over the ashes, and I shall do the same. I shall give you an extensive offering of my blood. Recreate the sigils I showed you upon your body. After that, I need you to sit in the middle of the pile and cover yourself save for the area where you wish my likeness will adorn your flesh, as your current spirits do. Then, I need you to kill me,” the crow continued nonchalantly, “separate this old temporal body and my soul, Rapture. Hold my corpse close to your heart, and say my prayer repeatedly. Pluck out my third eye and eat it whole. If all goes according to plan, I will enter your soul as my flesh and bones return to the ashes. If not, we start over.”

PART VIII

It took only once and seemed to happen as quickly as it started, opening with the Ivory Crow’s offering of inky black blood and ending in his worldly death, done in by a spike through the heart. However, it felt like a yearlong process at the same time, drawn-out and emotionally scathing, scarring. Eating an eye had not been a big deal, nor had covering herself in still-hot ashes, but killing her new friend had taken part of Rapture’s soul to the depths of the netherworld and back. In a haze of sorrow, she saw herself stabbing Riptide before being ripped back to reality by torrential rain.

Never before had it rained on this beach, not to mention the presence of cataclysmic waves reaching higher and higher up the sides of the Shattered Peaks. Bleary-eyed and confused, Rapture sought shelter under an alcove as her now brilliant, beautiful, strong wings wrapped around her as an effective storm shield. The rough water washed away all signs of the ritual away, including the ashes of the Ivory Crow. For the first time since she arrived at the beach, Ryuuzaki actually slept, safe beneath her wings until the storm subsided and returned the weather to the lethargic, misty dullness as was usual in the strange land.

“Awaken, Iðunn,” the Ivory Crow whispered from within her mind. The words were said gently, soothingly. The beckoning of an ancient man who seemed to smile, unseen. “You are whole again. We are one.”

To describe what it felt like to have a fourth spirit would fall on deaf ears, for doing so would have no meaning to anyone other than Rapture. However, she could say that it felt natural, as did her wings, which she could make appear and disappear at will now. Her eyes and hair turned pure white while in the Crow’s form, and as she went about testing it, she discovered a sky-rocketing increasing of speed, stamina, strength, and maneuverability. Her wings, on the other hand, could harden beyond the strength of steel without the expected weight, grow larger and smaller, and to Rapture’s delight, have her feathers function as energy projectiles as well as physically devastating weaponized daggers that could shoot at will. She had a new personal arsenal.

As for flying? Flying became second nature to her, just as the Crow had said. For all her hardship, she excelled at the craft, earning praise from not only the Crow but her other spirits as well. Practice was in order, however, and practice she did for what could have been months should time have meaning, if not years. Gathering her worldly possessions, Rapture took a final look at the beach from the Shattered Peaks before flying to the shore. She pictured Jump City just beyond the fog and the conflict that would arise from within its already-bloated population of criminals and heroes alike. Rapture got down on her knees, kissed the shore, thanked it for its refuge, then wrote in the sand. “Hope,” she transcribed into Japanese, then took her leave. As she walked back to the world of the living, the teenager shook her head.

“Oh, Crow Daddy,” she grinned, knowing that the great spirit hated that name, “have I got a use for you.”