in fresh morning light i get on my knees not in a rush... lyrics

Ignoring the sea of patrons filling tables like a pack of pigs piling in at the feeding trough, Falaneth shuffled in and heaved the case onto the bar in between panting breaths. She’d swapped it from hand to hand at least a dozen times en route. Her arms ached and her fingers had grown numb around the handles of the case. Fortunately, the inn was in the Third Circle so there were no stairs to climb.Īt last, the titular raven gracing the sign in onyx paint with wings outstretched in flight proclaimed that she reached her destination and welcomed her into its treacherous fold. Lugging all this across the city was not easy and she began to feel winded sooner than she liked. In this instance, though, her confidence and pride may have outmatched her strength. Yes, she spent her days doing what some might consider a soft line of work but there was a lot of lifting, climbing and walking those endless aisles back and forth all day long.

Falaneth was well aware of her petite stature and resented the implication that people presumed she was some kind of weak and gentle maiden. The straps of the pack dug painfully into her shoulders and she readjusted them with a clumsy hand the best she could. Falaneth was sure that if only she could prove what she believed of Tandarion’s death, it would ease her pain and bring her peace, some kind of closure. The chance to learn the truth was more important than anything. She had taken these things from the library and she was giving them to a complete stranger. The thrill of anticipation buzzed through her as she stood outside her front door. She wanted to be just another passerby in the night. It was not very cold, not even in winter she hoped it might shroud her face in darkness enough that none would recognise the library clerk roaming the city streets with stooped shoulders and a heavy pack. When she reached the stoop outside the front door, she set the case down for a moment and brought up the hood of her cloak. On the bright side, she was never late for work.

In the morning, their loud throaty cawing woke her with the sun.

Their uncanny, knowing eyes, night-dark feathers and their rattling clicks and groans made her swear they were telling secrets and watching, always watching. A murder of crows often roosted on the eaves outside her bedroom window and sometimes at night, the scritch-scratch of their claws on the roof above kept her awake. Facing east, the sunrise greeted her each day with rosy golden light. For the most part, it was comfortable and warm. A roof and four walls, a place to rest her head. It wasn’t much but it was all she needed. Laden beneath the weight of a pack full of books and another case in her arms, Falaneth lumbered down the stairs from the cosy attic unit she called home.

In fresh morning light i get on my knees not in a rush... lyrics