The Grand Corvid
This fantastical tale was written for Twisted Tournament. The genre was Cozy Cult, which was very challenging, but the additional prompt "Raven" helped steer it to this fun society of birds.
The Grand Corvid perched on her viewing pedestal, observing her flock with their last Glimmering Idol: a thin, metallic, silvery sheet crumpled into a many-angled ball. Though each crow, raven, and jay seemed content, the high priest herself was troubled.
“Grand Corvid Caw?” Her attendant, Rattle, roused her.
“Yes, my chick?” The common raven’s voice was motherly. Caw was much larger than the male fish crow, amplifying her seraphic visage.
“There is some concern amongst the Magpie Sect. Four of their finest foragers departed for the Trashlands a moon ago and have yet to return.”
The Grand Corvid shifted. “Nobody came back? It takes only two sun positions to reach those hallowed fields.”
Rattle clicked solemnly. “No one.”
Caw tilted her head, processing. “I feel an ominous energy on the wind, Rattle.” She looked over the congregation, her worry for the missing birds sealed behind years of practiced poise.
The young crow was not so skilled in masking his fears. “Grand Corvid, do you believe the Lord of Shine has forsaken us? With only one Glimmering Idol, our hopes rest with the foragers. If they have fallen—”
“Nonsense, my chick.” Her resonant coo soothed the male’s anxieties. “Return to the Magpie Sect. Assure them the Grex Corvorum will lift their wings should misfortune become known. You may go.”
Rattle bowed. “Yes, Grand—”
CRACK.
Every bird froze.
CRACK.
Grand Corvid Caw gazed up to the roof of their hall. Several corvids tensed their wings.
The distant sound of an animal grew closer. “Blah? Blah blah.”
“That’s the sound humans make!” cried a California scrub jay. Panicked chirps and grunts echoed behind it.
“Blaaaahhh, blah blah.”
A second one. Humans usually traveled in small flocks.
Caw’s voice filled the chamber. “Remain calm, my chicks.”
“Is the Lord of Shine upset? Did we do something wrong?” Echoes of panic drifted through the crowd.
Rattle hopped closer to Caw, protective and alert. “Grand Corvid, shall I attempt to draw the beasts away? We’ve only this Glimmering Idol remaining and must protect it until the magpies return with more.”
CRACK.
The sound was close enough to shake the entire structure.
“Blah?” The human sound was odd. Higher, soothing, almost… friendly?
The Grand Corvid’s foreboding feeling fluttered away. “Wait! Trust the Lord of Shine, my chicks!”
The roof of the chamber raised to the sky, pieces of bark falling in. Sunlight blazed, casting the human in silhouette. Smaller than most. A human chick. A high-pitched rolling shriek escaped its beak. The sudden noise was strange, as it instilled not fear in Caw, but the purest joy.
Four magpies appeared, carrying new Glimmering Idols of many sizes and shapes. One bird had a bandaged leg.
A bigger human stood behind the smaller. “Blah blah blah!”
The young human made another high-pitched squeal of joy and lowered the roof back into place. Relief fell upon the flock.
“What in sky was that?” asked Rattle.
Caw clicked proudly. “The Lord of Shine manifests in many ways, my chick.”