renewed returning — as spring ever sprung
green grass regrowing — youth forever young
who what why where when — fine fishy foibles
forever lost, free — found gently joyful
lividly lost, lured — wild will-o’-the-wisp
fair full afraid yet — haunts hallowed with lisp
less scared less afraid — short shrift for shaking
narrow niched nightmares — o’er before being
sunlight sows safety — seems silly later
unmasked known unknown — and tall tale teller
Raven pondered for a moment, then turned to me. “Sydney, we think you are ready to move on to the real game. Do you feel ready?”
“Yes. Yes I do.” And oddly enough, I was not exaggerating. I really was ready.
All my fears about what had been going on had melted away when Raven turned up and revealed that it was all his show. I’ve never known why I trust the avatar of a trickster god, but I do. And that trust has washed my earlier fears away.
“This world has been serving as a training platform. Now, we need to move you to somewhere you can do some good. We’ll bring Gwen and Bruce along since the three of you clearly make a good team.”
At that news, Gwen looked startled for a moment. There was a subtle glitch in my perception, and she was back to normal. I might not have noticed the glitch if Bruce hadn’t picked that moment to appear. “Hear that Bruce, Raven has volunteered you for his little project.”
“Oh, not again!” we all stared at the cat. “I mean, wow, sounds like fun!”
So with that, we stepped through a doorway and found ourselves in a familiar looking city. It was dark and murky, but clearly not with a chance of storming. The city looked like murky was its normal state. Raven had shifted to his larger than usual bird form, Bruce was being quiet for a change, and Gwen was continuing to remain aloof.
Raven gestured at a three or four-story building nearby. “Go on, they’re waiting for you in the rehearsal space.”