Son of The White Raven

On the cusp of adulthood, my weary body finally could not bear it anymore, and my journey took an expected turn. As my fragile form surrendered to the ravages of the disease, I just wished to say farewell to my precious crows one last time.

 As I slipped from the confines of my mortal shell, I found myself enveloped in a realm of swirling mist and ethereal light- the liminal space between life and death, where souls awaited their rebirth. Here, amidst the vast expanse of the unknown, I felt a strange sense of peace wash over me as if the weight of my suffering had been lifted in the wake of my passing.

 I slowly opened my eyes to find myself lying upon a bed of soft moss, the air alive with a gentle thrum of unseen energy. Before me stood a figure cloaked in shimmering robes of silver and gold, her presence radiating an otherworldly grace that took my breath away.

 "I am Arianrhod, Goddess of Rebirth," she spoke like the sweetest melody drifting upon the wind. "Welcome, Malakai, to the realm between worlds."

 I blinked in disbelief, my heart racing with awe and wonder. I had heard stories like this, but they were usually web novels. Never had I imagined I would stand before a goddess in real life.

 "You have had a troubling life, dear child," Arianrhod continued, her eyes alight with compassion. And now, you stand at the threshold of a new beginning. I offer three wishes to shape your destiny as you see fit." 

 My mind raced with possibilities, swirling like leaves caught in a storm. And yet, amidst the chaos, one desire burned bright and true—the world of the Twilight saga, where thrills and the supernatural await me at every turn. Yes, I want that.

 "I choose the world of the Twilight Saga if possible," I declared, my voice steady with resolve. "And I wish for my companions, the crows who have been my steadfast allies, to accompany me on this journey." I would miss my friends very much.

 Arianrhod nodded in silent approval, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "Your wish shall be granted, dear child," she said, her voice carrying the weight of ancient wisdom. "And what of your remaining wishes?"

 I hesitated momentarily, my mind awash with possibilities. Then, with a clarity that bordered on certainty, I spoke my desires into existence. "For my second wish, I wish to possess the ability of blood manipulation- a power to control the very essence of life itself," I declared, tinged with determination. "And for my final wish, I wish to be reborn as a hybrid of vampire and crow shapeshifter, a being of darkness and light, capable of harnessing both races' capabilities. 

 As the echoes of my wishes fade into the ether, a sense of anticipation fills the air, as if the very fabric of reality awaits my command. And in that moment, as I stood upon the threshold of my new beginning, I felt a surge of exhilaration coursing through my veins.

 Arianrhod extended her hand with a gentle smile and materialized a golden apple with black skin and gold leafy vines shimmered with an otherworldly light. "To begin your rebirth, you must consume this apple," she said, her voice a soft melody dancing in the air. My heart quickened with anticipation as I reached out to take the apple, my fingers trembling with excitement and trepidation. I marveled at its beauty, the golden skin glistening with an inner fire that seemed to beckon me closer.

 As I brought the apple to my lips, I hesitated momentarily, savoring the weight of this momentous decision. With a steadying breath, I took a bite, the sweet taste of magic flooding my senses with a rush of euphoria. It tasted like the sugar cookies my mother would make every first Sunday of each month. Except this taste was ten times that. 

 The world around me faded away for a heartbeat, replaced by a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations that engulfed me in a whirlwind of wonder. And then, as quickly as it had begun, the sensation passed, leaving me standing amidst the swirling mists of the realm between worlds. Arianrhod watched with a knowing smile, her eyes alight with the wisdom of ages. "You have taken the first step on your journey, Malakai," she said, her voice a gentle breeze that stirred the air around them. "May your path be illuminated by the light of your inner truth."

 With those words, she raised her hand in a silent farewell gesture, her form fading into the ether as my surroundings shifted and blurred. As I stood amidst the shifting sands of eternity, I felt a sense of exhilaration wash over me—for I knew that my rebirth had just begun.

Back in the realm of rebirth

 Arianrhod sat back on her throne with an amused smile. "Branwen, my dear, I have sent you a son you always wanted. I hope you raise him well. That child has had quite an unfortunate life."

"Corvus huh…"

 As my consciousness gradually emerged from the depths of rebirth, I found myself cradled in the loving embrace of a woman whose beauty transcended mortal comprehension. Her long, black, wavy hair cascaded like a waterfall of midnight silk, framing a face that radiated strength and grace. Her eyes, a mesmerizing blend of purple-blue hues, sparkled with ancient wisdom, their gaze piercing through the veil of time to meet my own.

 "Welcome, little one," the figure spoke, her voice a melodic whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "You are safe now in the arms of your new mother," she said, her voice tinged with pride and longing. "And though you may not yet understand, you are destined for greatness, my child."

'Strange, does she know I am a reincarnator?' I that would we interesting.

 I blinked in wonder, my mind struggling to comprehend the magnitude of the moment. I reached out with tiny hands, fingers curling around the edges of my new mother's cloak to seek reassurance in her presence.

 As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, I grew under my mother's watchful eye, my every need attended to with a tenderness of maternal

instinct. But it was not only love that filled our home – it was magic, ancient and potent, woven into the very fabric of their existence.

 From the moment I grasped the concept of language, Branwen, my mother, began to teach me the ways of blood magic—the ancient art of harnessing the life force that flowed through their veins. In the dimly lit chambers of their home, she guided my hands through intricate gestures, teaching me to draw upon the power that pulsed within me.

 Under her patient guidance, I learned to wield this power with precision and control, my natural aptitude for the arcane arts blossoming with each passing day. Together, we delved into the mysteries of spell craft and incantations, our voices mingling in the ancient tongue of their ancestors.

 But Branwen imparted blood magic and the gift of shifting, of transforming one's form into that of another creature. As a raven shifter, she possessed the ability to take flight upon wings of darkness, and she passed this knowledge down to me with pride and reverence.

 In the shadowed glens of the forest that bordered their home, Branwen taught me the secrets of shifting – the sensation of feathers unfurling from my skin, the rush of wind beneath my wings as I soared into the boundless sky. Together, we danced amidst the canopy of stars, our forms intertwined in a symphony of shadow and light.

 Looking at my mother with eyes filled with wonder and gratitude, I knew I was blessed to have been chosen as her son. Born on November 17th, 1506, my upbringing was unlike any other child in London. Under Branwen's guidance, I learned the ways of magic and shifting and the history of my past—a tapestry woven with threads of destiny and fate.

Winter of 1610

 In the dimly lit chamber of their home, Branwen guided me through the intricate dance of magic, her voice a soft melody that echoed through the room's stillness. Shadows danced upon the walls, flickering in time with the rhythm of their chants as they delved into the mysteries of blood magic.

 Seated at a small wooden table carved with ancient sigils, I watched with rapt attention as Branwen drew forth a vial of crimson liquid – the essence of life itself, pulsing with untold power. With delicate precision, she poured the blood into a small silver chalice, the metal gleaming in the soft candlelight.

 "Now, Malakai," Branwen spoke, her voice a gentle murmur that stirred the air around them, "focus your mind and center your energy. Feel the power that resides within you, waiting to be unleashed."

 Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, drawing upon the wellspring of magic that lay dormant within me. I felt the energy surge through my veins, a torrent of

power that threatened to overwhelm my senses. But Branwen was there, her presence a steady anchor in the storm, guiding me through the tumultuous currents of my magic.

 Together, we chanted the ancient words of power, our voices rising and falling in perfect harmony. With each syllable uttered, I felt the energy coalesce around me, forming a shimmering aura of light that enveloped my body like a second skin.

 And then, with a final flourish of my hands, I released the magic, sending it forth into the world with a burst of radiant energy. The air crackled with power, the fabric of reality warping and bending in response to my will. It felt amazing.

 As the spell took hold, I felt a sense of exhilaration wash over me—a rush of euphoria filled me with pride and accomplishment. I had wielded the power of blood magic, tapping into the ancient forces that lay dormant within my veins.

 But Branwen relayed that our journey was far from over. With a knowing smile, she reached out to clasp my hand in hers, her touch a silent promise of the adventures yet to come. And as we stood together in the glow of my first triumph, I knew I was destined for something great, guided by the wisdom of my ancient blood witch mother.