Chapter Text
Snow fluttered to the ground, beginning to coat the landscape, the night sky firmly taking its hold, as the moon shone large and bright in the sky, nearly full, clouds carrying the winter storm had blocked out the stars, but Cater Diamond wished on them anyway as he ran barefoot down the path. He was currently covered from head to toe in ash, a sort of camouflage in the current conditions. Though not one that he had acquired on purpose.
His clothing, once an old, tattered, and stained servant's gown, now scorched and barely recognizable. He'd taken the only thing he found in his flight, a canvas tarp covering the wood pile, and wrapped it around himself to fend off the bitter cold. His ginger hair, once down past his waist was the only sign the flames had touched him personally, now sat burned off just past his shoulders.
What had happened, was all a blur to the boy. He'd woken up that day-his 18th birthday, expecting it to be like any other. The date had never passed with any observation since his father had passed, less than one year into his marriage to Cater’s stepmother. The death had hit him hard, He'd barely been 8 years old, but his life had turned into a nightmare. His things had been taken, sold, destroyed, or given to his step sisters. He'd been given a bed in the attic and become a servant to the household instead of a member.
Still, he'd managed to find some happiness. Daydreaming about the stories his birth parent used to tell him. Wishing on stars, and hoping for a better future.
But that day something had snapped in his stepmother. What caused it Cater had no idea, it wasn’t the first time she'd flown into a fit of rage and blamed him for things that couldn't have possibly been his fault or had clearly been caused by her perfect daughters, but it had never been anything like this. She’d grabbed him by the arm digging her nails in like talons as he cried out in pain, dragging him through the house seething mad, and down into the basement. Cater had no idea what she was planning to do until it was too late, as she flung him into the home's furnace and shut the grate, leaving him to burn to death.
He would have to, how he was saved was still very much a mystery to him, but in that moment, the latent magic in his system had emerged, protecting him from the flames, and blowing off the door keeping him trapped inside.
Cater had fled the house, but he'd done so screaming in hysterics no idea what was going on. His mother had sent people after him, to finish the job she started, he was sure of it. Especially with the howling he could hear in the distance. He was shaking violently, but whether it was from the seeping into his bones cold, the fear flooding throughout his whole body, or some mix of both didn’t matter. Survival was the only thing on his mind.
The manor his family had called home rested just on the western edge of the city. In his father’s time, it had been gorgeous, but his stepmother had not kept up with the maintenance required for such a fine home, and it had begun to fall into a bit of disrepair. In fact, many of his days had been spent patching holes in plaster walls and leaky roofs.
But this also meant not a mile from his home was the edge of an ancient forest. Local folklore stated it had been the home of an evil queen, whose heart had turned black with jealousy. Envious of the beauty their stepdaughter could claim, their narcissism had driven them to madness, ordering the execution of the innocent fair skinned maiden.
The princess Snow White, had been able to escape thanks to a camp of dwarves who had given her sanctuary in their home, and the with the aid of her destined prince, they were able to defeat the wicked evil queen. But her black heart was said to have cursed the land where the castle once stood.
As the story went anyone to enter the woods was never seen from again. Cater had endured several taunts from his stepsisters over the years that he should just take a walk through the mysterious forest, usually with one or both bursting into giggles proud of themselves for tormenting the poor boy. But now, faced with possible death, verses certain, he closed his eyes and diverted his path into the trees. Praying to whoever would listen that the legends were enough to keep his pursuers from following him. As he did however his makeshift canvas cloak caught on one of the branches ripping, nearly causing him to fall.
Tears welled up in emerald eyes, as he tilted his head down and pushed forward, moving as fast as he dared, feet bleeding already from what he’d been through, but numb thanks to the cold. But the further he went, the warmer he felt, as he realized the snow had stopped, and the air, felt more like a warm summer night, than a frigid winter’s. He pulled what was left of the material he could claim around him, trudging through the underbrush. Cater had no idea where he was going, but some of the fear he felt started to drain away. It was quiet here, and the idea his plan had worked, and he’d lost those chasing him crossed his mind.
There was something…peaceful about his surroundings, and as he finally came to the edge of the forest, he looked up in awe. A massive stone castle sat just in front of him. It was slightly overgrown, with vines growing up the side, but it was a welcoming sight. Cater didn’t know who if anyone would be waiting inside, but it had to be better than what was out here.
Slow, the pain he was in starting to rear its ugly head. By the time he made it to the castle proper, he was limping slightly, the massive oak and iron rod door itself was unlocked, but heavy as he pushed it open. “Hello?” he called out, with all the energy he could muster, but only his own echo greeted him in return.
There was a thick layer of dust on everything he could see, and that gave him enough confidence to push the door shut. Exhaustion taking hold, he crawled over to a corner, using his canvas tarp as something to lay on, and collapsed in a corner. Though the last thing he thought he saw, as his eyes slide shut was a large black bird land staring at him with its head cocked to the side.
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The sun’s rays were finally what stirred Cater from his slumber as they crept across the floor, much later than he was used to sleeping, but he’d been at his limit the evening before. As he shifted though he blinked, realizing there were several blankets piled on top of him. His feet which had been raw and bleeding last night were currently bound with strips of linen cloth.
“What…” he blinked, the events from the day before had yet to come back to him and he was confused to find himself awakening in such a state. There was a pile of 4 red and shiny apples resting near where his head was. And not far from them were a pile of clothing, and a pair of shoes, though all looked far out of date for what he was used to seeing. “Who?” he looked around.
There was no more of a trace of life in the castle than there had been the night before, though even the evidence of his own passing- the bloody and ashen footprints he’d left behind were gone. Finally, he remembered exactly why he was in such a state, as he caught a bit of the charred remains of his hair out of the corner of his eye and he put his head down taking in a deep breath.
Cater still had no idea why his stepmother had attacked him. But he’d managed to find safety, though he had no idea who might be here with him, and who had offered him such things, he was too hungry to pass on the offered food, so he picked up one apple after the other. They were tart and juicy, some of the best he’d ever tasted in his life.
When he was done, he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with them, but he neatly folded the tarp he had brought with him, and the blankets, before picking up the clothing and the shoes he had left. He was still coated in ash and didn’t really want to put on the clean clothes but he wasn’t sure what to do. “This castle has to have some kind of washroom right?”
As soon as he spoke, he heard a trill of a bird call, and the blackbird from last night, whom he could now identify as a large Raven, landed down on the ground in front of him hoping about. “Oh…hello.” he smiled at it. It was pretty with iridescent greenish blue feathers along his wings. But there also seemed to be specks of the coloring across his face, almost giving the bird the appearance of freckles.
The bird fluttered up to him then turned and flew forward a few feet, looking back at him. “You want me to follow you?” Cater asked almost excited. Some might have found talking to animals in this way odd, but he’d always spoken to them as if they were vaguely human. His reward was what almost sounded like a happy song note from the raven, and so he decided to humor the creature. Despite his situation, he felt a bit of light hearted amusement at the bird’s behavior. Laughing as it would fly a short distance, before landing to make sure it was still being followed. “You’re a rather intelligent little bird aren’t you.”
The Raven’s feathers puffed out if almost insulted by the phrasing. “Okay, okay, you’re a big bird. I’m sorry. But you’re still very smart right?”
Another little song note reached Cater’s ears and he knew he’d placated the amusing creature. His feet were still sore, as was most of his body, but it wasn’t too long of a walk, he’d been lead through the main foyer, down the east wing of the castle, to what looked like it would have been a communal servant’s bath. “Thank you.” he nodded his head toward the raven with a smile and it flew up perching on the top of the door, looking rather pleased with itself.
The ginger’s mood flattened a bit more as he got a good look at himself in the mirror. He’d never really thought of himself as anything more the homely. But right now he was a walking disaster. Cater walked over to a cabinet not sure what he would find. The castle was old, and as far as he could tell it was only him and the raven. Though he wasn’t certain, the bird was very smart but had it really been the one to take care of him?
Relief filled him when he found some more linen bandages, a razor and what he assumed was shave soap, and various other things castle staff might need. Including a pair of scissors. He pulled them out, intending to at least even up his hair before he washed it out, to make the process easier, but his visitor was still watching him. “So …bird.” he’d almost called it little again and didn’t want to anger his only ally at the moment once more. “What should I call you? You need a name don’t you?”
Cater was about to offer a suggestion, as he cut the first bits of burnt hair off when the bird flew out the door. “Wait!.” he called out before sighing deciding he was better off finishing up his task in the bathroom than chasing down a bird in a castle he knew nothing about.
He was nearly done with his new haircut when the raven returned a bundle of sticks in its mouth. “Oh…there you are.” relief filled him at the sight of his feathered friend. “What are those for?”
The raven dropped his prizes and chittered a bit at Cater before he picked up one at a time. The ginger went about cleaning up after his impromptu haircut as he watched, letters appearing one by one. “Wow, you really are a smart bird.”
When he was finished the bird puffed its chest out in pride. ‘Rook’ written out legibly in stick form on the washroom floor. “So that's your name. Rook.” the ginger tried it out, as the creature called back to him as if singing a song, hoping around on his feet and flapping his wings as if he was doing some kind of excited dance.
Caught up in his energy, Cater laughed, clapping for him. “Well Rook, thank you for everything.” he bowed.
Happy enough with his hair, all the burn pieces gone, and it landing just above his shoulders, he headed to what looked like a rather old fashion tub, with a pump directly attached to it. It seemed rather fancy, but this was a castle, even if they were just the servant's quarts. He got to work hoping the well still was full and the pump still worked, but to his amazement, only a few tries to prime it, before the water started flowing.
“This is really nice.” he sighed, the water was cool, but he was used to cold baths, he’d had to draw and fill many hot ones for his mother and sisters but he’d never been offered that luxury even in the dead of winter, but he with as sore as his whole body was and his feat, he all he could think about was how nice a hot bath could be. Cater was no stranger to daydreams, so he didn’t really stop himself, as his hand kinda danced along the water, feeling how high it was getting.
It wasn’t until Rook started making all manner of noise that he even realized anything strange was going on. He’d been thinking about a hot bath, so the water at his fingertips hadn’t alarmed him, but he could see the subtle hint of steam rising from the water, and his hand was glowing slightly red. “What….” he stared at it. “I’m sorry! I don’t even know what I did…!”
Magic in his home was considered dangerous. Practice of it was strictly forbidden in the kingdom Cater had never even thought to try. Rather than being angry at him though Rook seemed…happy? Excited? He was carrying on about the way, he did when Cater had figured out his name. “You..like that I did that?”
A vigorous nod of the bird’s head accompanied by another happy song like trill left the raven.
“Well then…” Cater looked at his hand, it didn’t seem any didn’t and he didn’t feel any different but, he’d clearly done it. “I’m going to go ahead and take my bath okay?”
The raven hopped around a bit more, before flying off and the ginger sighed, before taking off what remained of his clothing from the night before. Throwing them away in a waste bin nearby, before sinking into the hot water. He let out a hiss, before leaning his head back, just letting himself exist for a few moments. Relaxing was not in Cater Diamond’s vocabulary and something almost seemed wrong with the universe, but nothing could have gotten him to move at that moment.
Slowly he started to wash the ash away, He’d have liked to soak longer in the blissful hot water, but by the time he’d cleaned the ash from his skin and hair, and made sure his feet had been thoroughly tended to, it had been rather nasty. But maybe, he could come back here later and indulge again. It seemed…wrong? But who was there to stop him? Rook didn’t seem like he’d be bothered.
Once he was able to wrest himself from the water, and rinsed out the tub for good measure, he dried himself off and dressed in the clothing that had been left for him. It fit surprisingly well and Cater said a silent prayer that he had been given pants and not another dress. While the material didn’t seem that old, the style certainly once. One found reflected in the books on their history. A pair of tan linen pants, a light blue linen shirt with a laced top, and the shoes were made of leather and stopped at his ankles. It was simple but comfortable.
He’d wrapped his feet once more in bandages, he didn’t have socks but, they were as comfortable as they could be now. Cater once more did his best to clean up after himself, and when he exited the washroom, Rook was perched on a window ledge waiting for him. “Well, what now?” he asked good naturedly. One hand on his hip, the other in the air.
More hopping chirping and flapping had the ginger following his new feathered friend down the hall once more. Only to end at a large set of ornate double doors. They were cracked open enough for Rook to enter, and he disappeared inside before Cater could protest, wondering if maybe this was where the owner of the castle might be. A bit of anxiety flared in him, but he pushed the barely opened door up enough for him to step inside, to find what looked like a magical workshop of some kind. There were shelves lining the walls, some containing books, others vials with various ingredients in them. There was a cauldron, in the center of the room, and a fireplace in the back. A table with candles, some parchment strewn abought, along with a few other random objects.
Emerald eyes did their best to take it all in, but to one side, in a small alcove was a large book. It had a beautiful blue cover with golden scrollwork embossed in it. Rook was sitting just above it, as he let out another call for Cater, opening his wings wide. “Okay, I’ll see what you have.” he shrugged, not sure what to make of this room. He knew the stories about the evil queen, and he didn’t want to think about the fact that this was likely his personal lab.
But when he reached the book, he realized that it wasn’t some normal tome, and why Rook had wanted him to see it. “A spellbook?”
Rook bobbed his head as he shuffled his feet chirping at Cater. Before he pecked his beak on the cover. “I”m sorry,” the ginger shook his head. “I don’t really know how to do magic, that back there, was the first time…I think?” he still hadn’t made sense of how he’d survived the furnace in the manor. “I don’t know the first thing about what I’m doing.”
Undeterred the bird reached down with its beak flipping the book open to the first page. Cater looked a bit bewildered. The script was archaic but he could still read it if he tried. It seemed simple enough, and if he failed, then maybe he could convince Rook he didn’t know any magic. Slowly he muttered the phrase. “Dwi angen golau i ffeindio fy ffordd yn y tywyllwch”
As he did a ball of light appeared in front of him.
Cater could only stare. “I can use magic?”
Rook made another happy trill before he hopped up onto the ginger’s shoulder nuzzling the side of his face.
“I can use magic.” Cater repeated still a bit overwhelmed as he flipped to the next page.