Rabie

The fire is hot. As I stand infront of the fire we just lit to burn away the remains of the man we found I think to myself if he was to blame. Was it really his fault? Did he really mean to do everything he did? Was it even him? Jervis Stoot was eccentric sure but surely someone made him do it. No, no, ofcourse it was him. All the evidence was there. As I get a whiff of burning hair I realize it is my own eyebrows burning away. I stand back and look at the house which is still burning. Jervis' house. Chopper's house.
  A few hours ago I was looking forward to be able to be there when we caught the infamous Chopper. The whole string of murders was why I decided to become a guard for Sandpoint. I did not imagine being there to capture him in my first week as a guard. As I followed the stern and commanding Belor Hemlock, our captain was now dead after all, at the hands of Chopper, I was filled with courage, and a sense of duty. A will to do good, to save the good people of Sandpoint. It became different when I saw the eyes and tongues laying there. As I saw Jervis laying there. His eyes and tongue gouged from his head. An altar clearly serving some demon god. Belor and the rest were quick to blame Jervis being Chopper and we started making preparations to burn down the altar and Jervis himself to stave off any bad spirits or demonic influence. As we carried Jervis outside, his arm slipped away, and thats where I saw it. I took his ring.
  I feel inside my pocket. The ring I took called to me. Did it really? Was it greed? Did I think it was unfair? I had to grow up on the streets and I saw an opportunity to gain something? Either way, it was in my pocket now. I look back at the pyre burning Jervis. I think I see something. Something dancing in the fire. It makes me want to move to it. The fire turns into feathers, into a bird. Like a phoenix from the old legends, it begins to twirl around the fire. It beckons to join me. I comply. The fire is hot. I wake up drenched in sweat. The same dream. Again. I tiredly turn to my other side, take my knife, and carve another mark onto the wall. I spend the next half hour counting the marks. Mark number 1825. Five years since the dreams started. A bit more since the killings and the fire. Five years since I quit the guard and found my way back on the streets. Different. The raven cries. I turn back to my other side and see it standing next to me on the bed. Ghurab is his name. He's been with me all this time. He came to me after I gained new insights. New powers. I can do stuff now I never imagined possible. Was it his fault? I scratch Ghurab's head. I see Jervis' ring on my hand. After all these years on my finger it doesn't hurt anymore. I tried taking it off in the beginning but it wouldn't budge. I gave up after a while. Came to terms with where I was now. What I was now. But what am I? I try to be good. I try to talk to people. I can, but it isn't the same. I look at back the dagger next to me. The same dagger I've used for five years. My defense from thugs, my last line of defense before it takes over. I've only used it once or twice, but I needed it. Just like the ring and Ghurab is it part of me. I grab it again and slide my finger along the blade. Sharp and dangerous, but it makes me feel safe.
Comforting.

  "Rabie!" Ghurab cries. I look at the raven. I twitch every time someone or something calls my name. Afraid somebody knows what I did, what I am. I get up and try to eat some stale bread to stave away the hunger. Another day in Sandpoint. Another day trying to hide what I am. There is a festival happening today. Maybe I can get joy from it. Try to act normal. I dress myself and take my coat. I need my coat. Adorned with feathers from my friends. The birds listen to me. Listen to me when I need to get something of my chest. They dont judge. I get outside. Chopper's alley. I feel better here. Seemed a good place to find a small home. Cheap. I start my daily routine of going to Junk Beach and look what stuff I can find people didn't need anymore. Afterwards I'll go to the new cathedral and try to pray to any god again. They never answer but it never hurts to try. Ghurab sits on my shoulder and I feel him comfort me. For some reason this day feels different. I feel a sense of hope. Something is going to change. I pass by a fire being used to cook some food for the coming festival. I glide my hand over it. The fire is hot.