“White Raven Apocalypse







Once upon a time a story was told about a maiden named Sorrow. This is the continuation of that untitled, many-named beginning. Sorrow, it seems, has not yet taken her last bow. Her road has deviated from  that of Night’s and she must find her path anew. As you were warned before you shall be warned again: Tread on with no expectations. Let us wish our dear lady luck on her journey and retire to our seats to watch. And so it begins… or rather, continues.


Scene One: Endless Twilight


{Scene opens on a traveler leading a horse through deep mist and shadow. A black velvet sky devoid of stars and moon hangs above. The blackness around mingles with shadows of gray around the rider. It is evident that the traveler is a woman, though a hooded cloak hides her face in perpetual shadow. The horse seems weary, perhaps more so than the rider, for it walks with it’s head hung low, main listlessly draped across it’s neck and scattered around it’s eyes. The rider stops the horse abruptly and stands stock still.}


<A soft voice with the texture of flower petals whispers> Why have you stopped? We have to keep going. You have to keep going.


<A familiar voice greets the watchers ears; A voice soft and sad and solemn> I’m tired… <Sorrow says, sounding somewhat distant in mind>


That’s no excuse! <The other voice hisses back, though softly> You have to keep going. We have to keep going. It’s time to move on.


I do not wish to move.


Do you suggest going back? <The voice asks incredulously>


No… <she says sadly> You and I both know that cannot be done.


Then there is no place else to go but forward. Onward, great things lie ahead!


<Sorrow sighs heavily and urges the horse on>


<After a fair bit of travel Sorrow stops again>


Again? Why are we stopping now?


I’m lost…


Then let’s find a way out. A way to the light which awaits you!


Easy for you to say <she scoffs> But… what if there is no light to be found? What’s the point of our travel then?


The POINT, my friend, is to keep searching and FIND that light. There can’t be darkness without light so lets press on shall we?


No <Sorrow says defiantly> let’s not. <She slips from her mounts back and begins to stroke the tired animals neck> I’m lost… I’m tired…


This is no time to stop and give up sorrow! <The voice nearly shouts>


<Sorrow sinks into her familiar sitting position> Then let me rest first. <She says warily>


Rest? But…


<Sorrow lays down. The ground is neither warm nor cold and offers no comfort while bringing no discomfort at the same time>


(Perhaps it’s the neutrality of her surroundings that bother her, but Sorrow seems tired, distant, and so very sad… almost hopelessly sad…)


Get up, get up, we have no time for this… <the voice insists>


<Sorrow closes her eyes and lets the hood of her cloak flow over her face> but great things lie ahead… <the soft, flowerlike voice moans>


They can wait…



{And so Sorrow sleeps; For how long it is not known. The horse has laid down, but stayed awake, and the flower-petal voice has all but vanished. It would seem that only the horse notices the coming of a man through the mingled shadows of the velvet darkness. The horse watches quietly as the man kneels by Sorrow and after a moment picks her up gently. He then looks to the horse with kind eyes and beckons it to follow. The tired creature gets to it’s feet and follows closely on the man’s right side, by Sorrow’s head, as he begins to walk through the velvet twilight. Shadows dance back and forth as they make slow progress towards where ever the man is going. They travel at such a slow pace so as not to disturb the maiden’s peaceful and peaceless sleep. They are soon swallowed by the playful shadows of black and gray and the scene fades with them.}


End Scene One


Scene Two: Dreamscape Abyss

{Sorrow wakes and lifts her head to look around. She finds that she is no longer in the place in which she laid down. All is still and dark around her but it is now an eerie darkness… a lonely blackness that swallows the sound of her very breath. She is completely alone here. Neither the horse, nor even the flowerlike voice are present. She sits up and reaches a hand out idly but there is nothing in the black void to touch}


Where am I…? <She asks into the void>


Where am I? <Another voice echoes back>


Is someone there…? <Sorrow asks uncertainly> Do you know where we are?


Do you know where we are? <The voice echoes in reply>


<Sorrow finds herself wishing for the velvet darkness that seems to much less threatening when compared to this desolate place>


…Who are you?


Who are you? And where are we? Do you know?


<She fights to keep the trembling out of her voice with little success> I… I don’t know… w-where are we?


In the abyss. <The voice has an almost un-nerving echo now>


The… abyss?


Of course. Where else would we be?


…Who are you?


That is of little importance.


<Never before has silence seemed so loud. So loud and so long. The silence hangs in the air until Sorrow can no longer bear it>


Scared of the silence yet scared to speak. <The voice says as more of an observed fact than a question> Why are you so fearful Sorrow? You know I won’t hurt you…


<The voice trails off and waits for answer>


<The void seems to have swallowed her words for Sorrow finds she cannot utter a sound>


Answer. <the voice prompts in a softer tone>


<Unknowingly Sorrow has begun to shake. The abyss has grown cold but still she can’t find her voice>


Cold? <The voice asks softly> Tired? <It gets softer still> Alone… <It fades with this last word>


<A sudden wave of panic sweeps her> Wait! <She shouts> Please… <Her voice grows softer as she drops her head> don’t go…


Don’t leave you alone?


<She nods quietly, unsure if the owner of the voice can see her>


But you’re not alone.


W-why can’t I see you? <She asks through chattering teeth>


You aren’t looking hard enough.


But… there’s nothing here... I can’t…


<The voice cuts her off in the firm, gentle manner a parent would use with a child> Can’t is not an option. You either will or you won’t. <It says simply>


But how… what do you mean?


You shall see.



{The cold begins to ebb away, only to be replaced with a vicious heat. A heat more suffocating than it is actually hot. Sorrow feels like she’s choking. Perhaps she is thinking how she could have dealt with the cold better. Either way the mysterious voice seems unaffected. The blackness turns to a hazy gray around her and Sorrow struggles to keep from shaking even in absence of the cold.}

End Scene Two


Scene Three: Dreamscape Inferno


{There had been a terrible silence for quite some time now. All the while Sorrow has been fighting the strangling heat and her own fear and bewilderment. She has not yet removed her cloak though, for it seems to her it is her only veil of protection and comfort in this strange place.}


Still scared?


<Sorrow looks up uncertainly>


You’re still afraid.


What do you want from me?


A better question is what do you want from yourself?





I didn’t come here by choice you know…


Oh, but you did. Destiny and fate may be guiding you, but you choose how they are manifested.


I don’t understand…


<The voice sighs> You are a tool, dear lady.


A tool?


Yes, a tool. You are a tool of the all-divine Justice, which is influenced by Fate and Destiny.


But then… doesn’t that make me just a silly pawn?


Yes… but you wish to good do you not?


Of course… I want to make everyone happy…


Then you must remain the pawn. You must be the pawn in order to be a tool of Justice.



So tell me, what is it you made this place for?


I don’t know what you’re talking about! <She shouts at the faceless voice> I just woke up and was in this godforsaken place!



<Sorrow regains control of herself and speaks in a softer tone> I’m lost and I’m confused. I don’t know where to go or what to do… I don’t even know who I am anymore…


You are afraid to go forward but wary of going back.


But what can I do? And how do you know?


You do what you feel you must. So is the way of the fates.


But how do you know?


You told me.


<Sorrow is confused by the absurd proposition> I what?


You showed me.


Showed you what?? When??


<A shadowy figure on horseback, devoid of color, appears looking down at her>


<She looks up with a small gasp> It can’t be… <She says in disbelief>


<The knight raises his sword over his head>


This isn’t real…


<The blade begins descending swiftly>


This isn’t real! <She shrieks in a panic, covering her eyes and awaiting the blow>


It’s real enough to you.


<When she looks up again the knight has vanished>


Where…? <She inquires weakly>


Back into your head. This is all a matter of your mind you know.


<Sorrow shudders as the cold returns with vengeance>


You should take care of yourself better. A worn out tool can no better do the world good than a blunt sword can protect a knight in battle.




<Sorrow feels colder and more lost and alone than she has up until this point>


A tool… a silly pawn. <She whispers to herself> With no direction…


Ah but there is. <The voice says in the amused tone of someone who knows a great secret>


{Darkness blacker than anything she has ever seen engulfs the abyss, Sorrow, and the voice. All is plunged into cold and black and Sorrow awaits the voice of the speaker like one adrift at sea would await a ship; Eagerly.}


End Scene Three


Scene Four: Dreamscape Symphony

{Not much time passes before Sorrow, shaking with cold and longing for company; any sort of confirmation she is not alone; can bear the silence no longer. She reaches her hand out into the darkness again wishing to find something, anything to prove wrong the fear that has been building within her… the fear that she is truly alone.}


<Sorrow’s eyes begin to fill with tears as her hand goes numb from being held out into the cold darkness for too long>


<From the blackness a hand reaches out and twines it’s fingers between her own, sealing them around her hand>


<Sorrow is unable to speak and watches in astonishment as the figure slowly comes into view sitting in front of her>


(She can think of neither what she should say nor what she should do. Words once again elude her and she can think of nothing except how warm her hand feels. She seems genuinely happy to see another person; To know she is not alone in this empty place. All of the built up fear begins to ebb away… bit by bit, but still there is an ever-constant feeling of anxiety present which she cannot understand. Still, even this pales before the speaker in front of her.)


<Sorrow now sees the owner of the hand is a young man, who by his features, seems no older than she, yet in some way… eternal>


(The young man seems kind in nature, sitting with his legs crossed “Indian style” and his head lowered in a thoughtful manner with eyes closed. Sorrow somehow feels a little better just by knowing he is there, and his hand is of great comfort to her, making the notion that she is not alone a bit more solid.)


<Sorrow is now afraid to even breath for fear that she will in some way disturb him and have to feel the biting cold once again when he snatches his hand away>


<Instead the young man lowers both their hands, taking care not to release his hold or even imply that he might>


I told you before that you don’t have to be afraid. <He says softly, raising his head and opening his eyes to look at her>


(Sorrow can feel her heart ramming against the walls of her chest. It feels like an eternity has past since she has seen another person in such a light… truly seen another person and felt that she was completely understood, had no worries or fears worth any weight, and most importantly… was in no way alone.)


<The young man raises his other hand and Sorrow’s breath catches in her throat as it comes to rest on her cheek> Don’t worry, I’m real. <He says with a kind, reassuring smile>


<Sorrow raises her other hand as well and slowly lets it draw near his. Her hand recoils at first touch>


(She did not expect him to be lying, rather she somehow thought that something would make him disappear before she could affirm he was really there.)


<She lowers her hand again>


You can breath you know. <He laughs slightly, but not mockingly>


<Sorrow now notices just how long she has been holding her breath. Her lungs have already begun to burn and she exhales promptly>


<The young man shakes his head and lets his hand slip from her cheek> All this fuss.


<Sorrow glances downward at his other hand and then back up again>


I’m not going anywhere. <He says with a mirthful laugh>


<Sorrow averts her eyes shyly at having been noticed>


No need to be so shy, it’s alright. But we really should get down to matters at hand.


What do you mean?


Your direction; Your path.




Don’t question it, you know very well what to do. There’s not much I know right now that I haven’t found out from you.


Pawns have paths? <She asks skeptically>


Everything has a path. And yours is a wonderful winding road I see.


What’s so wonderful about it?


Everything and nothing and some things and no things. <He says as if it were a simple point of fact>



Why are you still so scared?


I don’t know…


Tell me, have you ever seen light streak across your black velvet sky?


There is no light there, only black…


Don’t tell me what others have told you, tell me what you know; What you have seen, even if it was only in your dreams. Have you?


<She drops her eyes and nods>


I knew it. <He says with a grin>


But it’s always out of reach… like it’s running away… and I’ll never catch it… <Her eyes brim with tears once again>


Don’t worry, and don’t be scared. <He pulls her into an unexpected hug>


u-ummm… <Her cheeks redden slightly>


<He ignores her confusion and continues talking, all the while holding her like any protective person would the thing which they valued above all else>


Can you hear the music? <He asks in a soft tone>


w-what music?


It’s soft and mournful, can’t you hear it? Such sad words, why did you choose them?


<She too begins to hear this music all around her and within her> Sad words seem to suit me nowadays <She says quietly>


<She has accepted her long needed hug and seems content now to sit with this boy and hear the music playing from inside her>


It’s getting softer, I can barley hear the words… can you sing them?


Sing? <She asks with a bit of shock at the request>


Yes, before the words go away.


But I don’t know if I can…I mean… <She falls silent, a bit embarrassed at the thought of singing to this boy; Especially words that are coming from the depths of her>


Please? <He asks with sincerity> Pick up at the next line, I can’t hear it anymore.


<She sighs as she reconsiders>


(This boy already seems to know her, she thinks… and she feels she has nothing to fear from him.)


<After a moment’s silence she begins to sing the words of a familiar song in a soft voice barley above a whisper>


<Her voice seems to suit her surroundings perfectly though, given that there is no wind and no other sound save her breath and the young man’s, who seems to have quieted beyond detection. She closes her eyes as she sings>


“You think that luck has left you there,

But maybe there’s nothing,

Up in the sky but air.”


<Her voice falters here and tears begin forming at the corners of her eyes. The boy remains still and quiet, waiting for her to continue>


“And there’s no mystical design;

No cosmic lover pre-assigned.

There’s nothing you can find,

That cannot be found.”


<The young man closes his eyes as if listening hard to something. He takes the rest of the words from her and begins to sing in a lovely tone, complementing that of Sorrow>


“Cause with all the changes you’ve been through,

It seems the stranger’s always you;

Alone again in some new,

Wicked little town.”


<He pauses, hearing music play. It sweeps over the darkness like a warm blanket… piano and perhaps some strings playing in harmony>


“And when you’ve got no other choice,

You know you can follow my voice,

Through the dark turns and noise of this,

Wicked little town…”


(Despite what the song is based on and the mockery it might imply given it’s real circumstances and not these, his words are sincere. His whole demeanor is secure and one would think he knew her… like he was some sort of long lost friend or companion.)


<He abandons the remainder of the song>


There’s another one… What are the words… <He listens carefully>


<As if on cue she recites them, though only speaking them instead of singing> “Why do I feel like I’m drowning… when there is plenty of air? Why do I feel like frowning…”


“I think the feeling is fear.” <He says jovially>


Fine for you to make fun… <She says in a hurt tone>


Oh shhh <He says hugging her a bit tighter> you know better than that. Now come on, there’s one more… this is a change… so hopeless… “tried so hard and got so far, but in the end it doesn’t even matter…” That’s awful. It’s horrible you feel that way, but you still can’t give up. No, not at all.



<An awkward silence ensues as Sorrow contemplates his words and the meanings of her own>


It’s time for you to go now. <He says softly and with regret>


 Go… but where… <She wraps her arms about his waist> I… I don’t want to leave <She grudges the thought of him letting go> please let me stay… please…


I cannot control these things, you know that. I am sorry, I wish that I could <He says warmly> But things will be better when you wake… you’ll be safe, and much warmer.


Wake… but… what do you mean… I-I’m fine now… I don’t want to go…


<Out of nowhere something white streaks across the black sky>


A final note of advice Sorrow… follow that light, no matter what form it takes.


Sorrow… Sorrow wake up! <A voice whispers feverishly in her ear>




Yes, wake up, wake up!


But wait… Lily, I can’t yet… I don’t even know his name…


Remember what I said dear friend… and don’t worry, I’ll see you again soon.


{With a bit of a moan Sorrow stirs and opens her eyes to survey yet another new place. She is indoors now. A man leans over a fire, feeding the crackling flames. The horse is nowhere to be seen but Lily is there. It was she who whispered in Sorrow’s ear. Sorrow finds that she is in a rocking chair. She closes her eyes again not wanting to know where she is and wishing just as hard as she had at first wished to leave, that she was back in that abyss, with the boy… whose name she never got to ask. The man tending the fire rises and turns from it.}


End Scene Four