A T O N E M E N T

[Crow]

  Inside Aurelia's room, a lone black bird stirs from its perch. This one was unique amongst Crow's flock: he had been a gift from the vizier to the gorgon; a gesture of good faith to help her settle in at the palace.

  'You may find his condition... uniquely suited to yours, my dear.' Crow had told her.

  And this was the truth. The corvid, dubbed Erebos by the golden gorgon, was not particularly exceptional in speed or strength amidst the rest of his murder. He wasn't noticeably different in size, unless you counted the fact that Aurelia had taken to spoiling the creature on treats and a soft pillow to nest on.

  What made Erebos unique was his complete lack of eyes.

  Perhaps it had been a birth defect of some kind, or perhaps some unfortunate injury had required their removal. In any case, where a pair of soft eyes should have been, the tissue had completely grown over. The bird was in no pain, of course, but it left it unable to reasonably fly, and it chose instead to hop from its lofty pillow, landing on the nearest furniture it could grasp. It still slipped occasionally, but had mostly learned the interior of Aurelia's bedroom. The crow clicked in the direction of the gorgon's voice, announcing its concern in the only way it could. There was mention of Crow's name. There was clear alarm in her frantic whispers.

  Something was wrong.

[Thomas]

It had been a long, strenuous day. Thomas had not worked this physically hard since he helped build Jamestown. There were so many people that needed mending that Thomas could hardly keep up with them all. His shoulders ached, his arms ached, and there was a pain in his side. It took several hours to mend Frollo's platoon, and Thomas spent the rest of the day wiping down equipment, making beds, emptying trash bins, restocking medical supplies and taking inventory. The hand on the wall clock jumped, and the wards were now empty, spotless and tidy for tomorrow. A drowsy Thomas set down a box of new linens and straightened up against the ache in his back. Almost done...

Even when Thomas closed his eyes he could still see open head wounds, stumps and burns. Ugh. He had always felt queasy and lightheaded at the sight of blood. Win or lose, it made no difference. People were going to get hurt in every God damn battle mustered by the evil incarnate and more often than not killed. 

Thomas was also distressed Perthmail was dead. Perthmail was not like most Blackbloods; he was a genuinely nice person. Thomas would have liked to apologize to him for causing so much grief, but Perthmail avoided him, even going as far as to bolt in the opposite direction at the mere sight of Edgar's new protégé. Thomas was crushed, but he could not blame Perthmail for wanting nothing to do with him. If Maleficent had found out that Perthmail had lost him, he would have been toast.

Thomas sighed and left the room to go get another box. One day at a time. One day at a time...

[Nasira]

Viip! To her alarm and chagrin, Nasira stumbled and fell in a hedge. The swooshing of leaves muffled a spluttered expletive as the overseer frenetically writhed like an insect ensnared in a web. Her long dress rustled in protest as a few stubborn brambles tugged on its hem, and one unceremonious yank later, she was free and up again. She did not understand what just happened. A thin hand instinctively reached to where she had been punched, but something out of the corner of her eye stayed it.

Alarmed, Nasira spun and found a scraggly brunette and a bipedal fox closing in on her, sharp blades gleaming in the moonlight. Assassins, she realized, taking a step back.

Nasira's mind snapped to the extra ventilation hole in her twin's neck, and her temper spiked. Red beads gleamed like rubies on the leaves of the hedge as the glow of magic illuminated the dark courtyard. It exploded from Nasira's palm and struck the vulpine head on. The quadrangle grew dark again.

"Your turn," Nasira told her other assailant almost conversationally, sparks coruscating at her fingertips. It was then Nasira noticed the color of the imp's blade. She raised a hand to her shoulder and blinked at bloody fingers. Her confidence went with the initial rush of adrenaline.

That was no punch.

[Shiloh]

High in the night sky, a lone piebald bat fluttered above the courtyard. Shiloh's ears pricked suddenly, the sounds of a scuffle or fighting in the courtyard below, and the familiar smell of iron and blood flooded her senses.
She homed in on three silhouettes, and blinked in confusion. She recognized the tallest one, Nasira, but she did not recognize the other two. And they appeared to be closing in on her. 

Swooping lower, she saw one of the figures lunge for Nasira, striking her in the shoulder and sending the woman tumbling, a much stronger smell of blood filled Shiloh's nose. It seemed, in her daze, Nasira hadn't realized the extent of her injury, but Shi knew that wouldn't last. She had attacked the vulpine, who dropped in an instant, and had turned her attention on the girl with the knife. The girl looked prepared however, and Shiloh could tell Nasira wouldn't hold up long with her injury.

Letting out a screech, the bat swooped down, a cloud of smaller, black bats surrounding her for a moment before shooting off toward Taylor, hopefully distracting the girl and clouding her view.
Shiloh circled around Nasira's head once, before changing forms and landing next to her, her boots making a small clunk on the cobblestone.
"Nasira," she said in a careful, but stern voice, "You need to get out of here. As an overseer, you're a valuable target to them, they most likely won't hesitate to kill you."
Her blue eyes narrowed in on the bleeding wound on Nasira's shoulder, then flickered to Taylor, the moonlight glinting on her fangs as she hissed,
"I can make sure this one bleeds."

[Aurelia]

Aurelia's pulled from her nervous fidgeting at the door by that familiar, soft, clicking sound. Blockaded gaze searches around almost frantically, before she finally spots a dark mark sitting on the edge of a small table.


"Ah-- there."


A hand works the dagger into her belt, before free grasp carefully scoops up the blind crow. Erebos had become treasured in his existence; it wasn't often Aurelia got to look at the little creatures she adored so much, not to mention the fact that he was soft, and wonderful company. She wouldn't leave him behind, even if there was an emergency.


With blade and bird in tow, Aurelia carefully slips out the door, and... freezes.


"A-ah.. Okay, don't-- don't panic. Think. Mister Crow's office is.... North? From here? Or was it West..? Come on, Aurelia, think!"


Frantic whispers do little to hide the Gorgon's panic, and her grip tightens ever so slightly on the crow pressed to her chest. There was trouble, and something needed to be done. There was no time to stand around, panicking!

[Crow]

  The silver lining to Aurelia's frantic babbling was that Erebos, and therefore Crow, was able to glean a little more information out of her. She was looking for him specifically, and she was panicking. Something was dangerously wrong.

"Mister Crow's office is.... North? From here? Or was it West..? Come on, Aurelia, think!"

  On cue, Erebos wriggled free of Aurelia's grasp, and flitted up to her shoulder. Gently grasping the fabric of her dress, the little corvid flapped and tugged her, albeit vainly, down the hall. Sight or no, all of Crow's birds felt an innate pull towards their master, and Erebos could lead her in the right direction. In less dire straits, it might have been amusing to note the literal case of 'the blind leading the blind', but clearly now was no time for jokes. Erebos took note of Aurelia's choice of whispers and followed suit, only uttering the softest of sounds. It paid to be cautious, but he still needed her to follow his lead.

[Aurelia]

As Erebos escaped her grasp, Aurelia seems to flinch slightly in surprise, but her expression turns to determination and relief when she seems to catch what he's up to.


"Erebos, you brilliant creature."


With that, The Gorgon follows dark wings, towards help.


---


"Mister Crow! Mis-ter-Crow!"


Aurelia's voice is whispered but frantic at the seam between door and wall, the heel of her hand thumping against the wood in a rapid but quiet fashion. Erebos had lead her right to this door, it had to be right. For the sake of everyone, it had to be right.


"Mister Crow, please open up, it's urgent!

[Crow]

  The door to Crow's office was pulled open, and he made a point of it to alert her to his presence as not to frighten her any further. He coaxed her inside, taking a careful glance out into the hall as he did so, and shut the door behind them. Under more pleasant circumstances, Crow might have teased the gorgon for it being a bit late for a social call, and all that might have implied. But not now. She was visibly shaken and all was not as it should be in the palace. That needed to be corrected.

  "Breathe, Aurelia. You're safe here." Crow placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He needed to know what she had seen.  It was an unfortunate drawback of his eyeless bird, which had now shifted to settle onto his shoulder. Without total certainty of the situation, he wouldn't have enough to go on and act accordingly.  Assumptions were rarely fruitful, he found, and he preferred to leave nothing to chance.

  "Tell me what's happening."

[Aurelia]

"There's someone-- someones. Multiple. I-In the courtyard. A hyena, a tiger--not our white one --, multiple people. They're attacking people, Mister Mortaray and Miss Nasira! There was blood and noises a-and-- What if they get to the others?"


Dainty fingers grab firmly onto Crow's hand, and blindfolded eyes glance up towards where she thinks Crow's face would be.


"One of them is the King Of France."


Panicked she was, but stupid she wasn't. Aurelia knew exactly what the purple-clad King's presence meant: The Rogues were assaulting Agrabah.

[Crow]

  As Aurelia went on at length to describe their intruders, Crow's body language became notably more pensive. This was awfully bold, to attack so directly, and with such a small force. Rebelling citizens, maybe? A party of self-imagined heroes? Crow's next thoughts went to their guest: the former princess. Perhaps a rescue really had tried to come for her?

He was pulled from his thoughts when Aurelia took his hand, and even through her blindfold he could feel her eyes on him.

"One of them is the King Of France."

  "...Ah." Crow's reaction was... underwhelming, to even his own surprise. Perhaps less that it was a lack of reaction, and more that he was genuinely taken aback by this news. He was also surprised to find that he was maintaining composure not only for the sake of keeping a clear head, but for Aurelia's sake as well. In truth, his mind was now racing. But more importantly, Crow had his answer. This wouldn't be solved so easily by just sending in the guards. The Rogues were lethal, and for the good King Clopin to be making a personal appearance...

  "Thank you for coming to tell me, Aurelia." Crow gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, and then pulled away from her. He moved to the open window, left that way to invite in the cool night air. "Now, let's tell the rest of the Legion, shall we?"

  Crow lifted Erebos from his shoulder and placed him carefully on the windowsill. Without further input, the black bird positioned itself just so and began to screech. The cry was grating, obnoxious, and loud; as any crow's sound were wont to be, but it served its purpose. Out into the dark, the corvid's voice was joined by another. Then another. Then, another again, until the night air was rapidly filling up with a cacophonous warning song. While Crow kept most of himself to himself, enough was known by now to associate this abnormally large murder with their master. For the Legion, the purpose of this racket was only all too clear.

  Sound the alarm.