Kronos was laying down on a strong branch of an ancient oak tree, with a white little bird sleeping on his belly. The animal brought him a feeling of comfort and connection. A few small crumbs marked the meal they had just shared. There wasn’t a lot of food this time a year but it was enough to feed both of them if they weren’t greedy.


    As the boy stirred around at the discomfort the hard wood brought to his body his companion opened an eye in curiosity. The beautiful, red, pearl-like eye shined brightly, greeting the being that took care of him. “Sorry to wake you up Oliver”, the boy said in genuine guilt. The young raven nuzzled its head against Kronos’ chest, clearly enjoying the warmth and comfort in this cold winter.


    With two fingers, he gently petted the bird’s head, receiving a happy chirp in return. “You’re starting to become big Oliver, you might not fit on my shoulder in a few months.” The animal twisted its head, trying to understand what was said to him. Kronos let out a sigh, he wished to be able to communicate properly to his companion at times like these.


    “You’re quite weird you know? A raven should be black, yet you’re as white as the snow on the mountains”, he bowed down his head to uncover his white hair which was hidden in a hood. “Just like mine, we’re both weird.” Again the raven chirped, the sound marking Kronos’ presence to nearby people.


    Footsteps came towards the oak tree, which had lost all of its beautiful leaves a few months ago. Such a sad sight to behold how even an ancient strong tree loses everything for half of the year. Oliver twisted his small neck towards the sound, alarmed by the intruders to his peace. Kronos gently put his companion on his shoulder and climbed down the tree to face the visitors.


    The placement of his feet were precise and calculated as he descended from his resting spot. Seven children stood at the base, pointing fingers while laughing. “There he is, that monster! ”, a boy shouted. The others laughed and surrounded him, leaving Oliver to spread his wings as retaliation. “What do you want Brutus?”, the boy asked. This group of children who called themselves his brothers and sisters were what had let him to isolation and fear of even sleeping.


    A girl stepped forward with a cocky smirk, she as well pointed a finger towards her brother. She was different from the rest though, blood relation, it was what bound them. She was his real sister, yet she looked nothing like him, no white hair, no ghost pale skin, just those blue eyes were the same.


    “Don’t speak to Brutus like that. A monster like you should only bark”, there was lingering disgust in her tone. Her brother was the embodiment of ugly to her. Something she hated with everything inside of her even though he had done so much to protect the both of them before being accepted in the orphanage.


    I miss her, although I won’t say that to her, I miss my little sister who actually cared for her brother the same way he did for her. §“I speak however I like Rina, especially to Brutus”, his voice was gentle but it was clear he made his point. This kind of “banter”, how the seven kids called it, happened almost daily and was especially harsh when they were bored.


    Oliver began to wave its wings, as if it was mad for his companion’s sake. “Ew! That monster’s pet is as ugly as he is!”, another boy said. Brutus laughed, “of course it is, kin seeks kin remember? They’re probably best friends because they both are monsters and no one wants them here.” They all busted out in laughter while the boy felt the usual sadness.


    No matter how much of an unfazed exterior he put up, deep down those words stroke his heart like a pickax mining away the layers of his happiness. Oliver could feel how his friend truly felt, maybe because of how much time they spent together. When the animal noticed Kronos’ feelings he flew up and dived down towards Brutus.


    Claws met skin and actions were noted down on the vast papers of past. Blood was spilled, although it wasn’t a lot. “Aaahhh! The monster’s friend is attacking Brutus! Run!” All of the seven children ran away, with fear and hatred burning in their eyes. Brutus had received a small wound on his right shoulder but Kronos would surely get punished for it.


    Oliver returned to his friend’s shoulder, leaving a stain of blood on the cloth he was wearing. It nuzzled its head against Kronos again and gently removed the little bits of green moss from his white hair. “You didn’t have to do that Oliver, although it was an amazing sight to see. What strength and power can achieve…” once again the boy sighed, leaving a small cloud of vapor behind.


    A small pot the size of a fist was uncovered from below a tree root. Kronos had to muster a lot of his strength to twist the lid and open the pot. Inside laid around twenty dried little earthworms. Their little teeth had munched away at the boy’s fingers when they had been caught. He raised the pot towards his shoulder, allowing Oliver to take out one as a treat.


    The beast wasn’t greedy, it knew all to well how much energy was put into catching those delicious appetizers and he respected his friend for it. There were times when Kronos tried to feed Oliver more so it wouldn’t feel hungry unlike he himself but it always declined in a suborn way, making sure he is at least equally both in suffering and happiness if not lacking.


    The white-haired boy was always fascinated how the bird raised its neck upwards to gulp down the treat. Such an eye catching maneuver, no matter how many times it was witnessed. Kronos began walking towards the orphanage which was part of the church. It was a stunning building that was also used as a chapel. Stone pillars supported the entrance, decorated by tales carved into the wall in the form of images.


    Kronos didn’t believe in Amanaro, the goddess of light. There were hundreds of reasons why but the biggest one was based on his life. Her tales speak about how every person who isn’t from noble blood is equal to one anther. If that statement was true, why was Kronos discriminated based on how he looked?Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    The child still acted as if he was a believer, praying before and after every meal. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t get his meal from the nuns. This condition also disgusted him, how come the goddess of light and love made her believers worship her to survive. That’s no love, merely a hunger for attention.


    His thoughts kept on wandering as he made his way inside, automatically going towards his room. Oliver wasn’t allowed in the building so he build his nest above the roof of Kronos’ window. The boy was the sole owner of a private room, only because the other children didn’t want to be near him. They told the nuns their self-made stories of how Kronos would begin moving in his sleep and strangle people.


    The tale was told almost three years ago but the consequences were still scarred onto the boy’s soul. “He needs purification, there is an evil spirit inside of him”, one of the nuns had said back them. Their form of purification was torturing the non-existent spirit out of his body. For one week straight Kronos had to constantly pray with barely any water or food, receiving a beating if he stopped to even gulp down his saliva.


    The horrifying experience had left the boy wondering about almost everything. He became interested in books and learned himself how to read and write over the years. An impressive feat yet not only a fuel to him being a “monster”.


    The boy laid down on his bed with a deep groan. He felt empty and lost, nothing new. Only a few more hours until dinner, the only time he had to join the table to eat. A messy bundle of papers took in his entire desk. some of them were practice papers to exercise his writing while others were small stories or philosophical statements which questioned the world and its believes.


    After several minutes he got up from his bed and sat down at the desk. He had no pencils or ink, just sticks and blood. Most times he asked for the blood of animals who were slaughtered for their dinner but in a cold winter like this one there was no meat in the menu. The urges to write or draw were still present so at times he would use his own blood to write and pieces of wood to draw.


    The moment he pierced a thumb to let his essence transform into ink Oliver would start banging his head on the window in protest. Seeing Kronos’ blood drove the animal into madness for his sake. It did everything in its power to prevent it. Today Kronos wanted to draw, a beautiful sketch of Oliver would sooth his desire.


    Diligent movements with a rotting piece of would in his hand he began to create the extension of his mind. As the material was very dark the boy decided to make an inverted drawing on the white paper. Coloring everything except for Oliver.


    After around two hours the portrait was completed. It was almost worthy of being called masterpiece, yet one detail was absent. That very detailed which made Oliver complete, his bright red eye. There wasn’t any signs of hesitations when the boy grabbed a needle from the corner of his desk and pierced the skin on his thumb. A droplet was all he required, no need to spill any more.


    As if the winged friend could smell it from on top of the roof he charged towards the window and began to voice his complains. Its caws haunted over the frozen landscape outside. The blood seeped into the paper Kronos smiled, a rare sight to behold.


    As he picked up the paper and held it in the air a whistle escaped his lips. “That’s the best I’ve ever done with the worst I ever had, how ironic.” A knock on his door was followed by a nun entering. “Dinner is ready child. Make your way to the dining table”, with that she left.


    The boy’s mood had risen by his success so he made his way downstairs and took place on his usual spot in a dark corner. Less than a minute later all eight children were present and the nuns served their food. “Let us all pray for this wonderful meal in these dark and cold days”, the head-nun said. Her voice as stern as ever. Everyone nodded as they began their prayer.


    When they finished everyone started eating in joy, talking and joking with one another. Kronos watched as usual while silently savouring the taste of warm food. All of a sudden the conversations died, making the boy look up to see if anything was wrong. Brutus cleared his throat and spoke after gaining the nuns’ attention.


    “Kronos’ bird attacked me today, look!”, he said while uncovering the scratches on his arm. They weren’t deep but that didn’t matter. “Yeah the animal attacked us out of nowhere,” now it was Rina speaking, “it truly is a monster cursed by dark spirits. I’m sure of it mother Gena!” Mother Gena, the head-nun, had one word that triggered her the most, dark spirits. She snapped her neck around and stared right into Kronos’ eyes.


    “Normally I wouldn’t say anything. But those red eyes the beast has have been haunting me from the day you saved that hatchling. Kronos I know we have made sure you haven’t been corrupted, but there is a chance your deeds are affected by that animal. That is why I will purify the animal myself, so I expect you to hand it over after dinner.”


    His mind went blank. What? No no no! This can’t be happening, they can’t take Oliver! Every nerve in his body was shouting at him to object but he knew that when this very nun set her mind onto something, not a living soul could get her to stop. Maybe I can set Oliver free? No, because he’ll die, he doesn’t know how to survive in the wild. If I free them I’ll be labeled as an evil spirit as well and die.


    Only a soft nod was what marked the boy’s confirmation. “I do expect mother Gena to handle him as if she was treating me. To stay patient with him and to not act on impulses.” The words were spoken with care, searching for confirmation in her eyes. The nun smiled as sweet as ever, very apart from her personality. “Of course dear child. Amanaro’s judgment is always fair.”


    Kronos ate the rest of his dinner with struggle. He was scared, that Oliver would come out with a hate towards humans, towards Kronos. The nuns collected the dishes and signed for the child to go get his bird. With haste he walked outside and whistled a melody, one that he had sang to Oliver ever since they first let. White wings rose from the roof and descended towards the boy.


    They were reunited as the raven landed on his usual spot, Kronos’ shoulder. “Oliver, I’m truly sorry. You’re going to have to stay with mother Gena for a while. Just be kind like you usually are and everything will be fine.” The bird tilted its head in confusion and proceeded to let out a cheerful chirp. Kronos gave him a few pets before walking back inside.


    The nun smiled brightly upon seeing the two of them. “Very well, you can go to your room now Kronos, get a good night of rest”, she said while the boy handed his dear companion over. “Okay”, Kronos said in a soft and gentle tone. Oliver seemed hesitant at first but didn’t complain as he noticed that was what his friend wanted.


    With a small heart the white-haired boy went back in his room and wrapped himself in his blankets. trying to close an eye seemed useless, yet he fell asleep after a while of trying.


    That night everyone caws of pain and desperation could be heard, but the boy didn’t even notice how the soul he treasured was being destroyed.