I Became A Crow Novels & Stories

Another addition to the magnificent collection that he already had in his harem. I sat there, thinking about the one whom I had promised my soul and my body. I couldn't save it for him. And I was about to give up on everything in it's entirety, but it was at this point when I saw the black crow , come right at me. It was the middle of the night and the crow came and sat right on my hand and it's eyes glowed with a red that was frightening.

“Tell me.” Her smile grew. “They call us crows. Because of the way we look, dark crow’s eyes, and dark hair, like their feathers. And because we’re also very, very good at knowing when there’s going to be blood. You can see flocks of them sometimes flying over to-be-battlefields because they recognize the signs. Swarms of them, all ready to scavenge.” “And you think you’re a crow now? Is that it?” She pushed the heel of her wrist against his chest, palm scraping against the edge of his shoulder collar. “Don’t tease,” she mock-warned. “Trust my instincts.”

Dislocated. He trembled, scratched at her clothing. His cheekbone bulged like a leg under silk sheets. A thin stream of bile ran from his mouth, splattering her knees. From where his eye should have been there emerged a beak, black and strong. With a sickening tear, the head of a crow broke free of her father’s face. The bird squawked, its feathers matted. Her world imploded into color. Through the light she saw herself standing over a coffin, could see herself outrunning the tourist cart down the Astoria embankment because she thought she’d caught her mother among the faces and cameras, could see herself studying her dad’s new girlfriend with predictable spite.

Jack, Herne, and Warren didn't move a muscle, when faced with the spectral image of the woman. Traditional buckskin adorned the slender body. She raised her hands above her head, "Well are you going to help? You are members of the Scald Crow aren't you?" Jack and Herne took a step back from the phantom, and pushed Warren forward, "You go, whelp."

He stood out as he flapped his multi-colored wings around and it shone under the bright light of the sun. The god of fowls and other feathered creatures saw him and he instantly decided to name the crow as king. After hearing the decision of the god, the crow was ecstatic that he flew and flew to show everyone how beautiful he was. Little that he knew, every flapped of his wings, two or three of his unowned feathers were coming off. And he only noticed it when he was back from being black. What he read upset him, so quickly, he turned to the last page of the book. But before he could learn what happened to the crow, the door of his room flew opened. It creaked so loud that it startled him.

"NO ... NO ... NO !!" the sound of a crow. I was surprised to hear the sound, and made the hairs on my neck stand up. “Huh, crow? I should how? I'm afraid!" I said panicked. I remember that crows are friends of vampires, which is why I was afraid. Not only that as a child I was attacked by crows for no reason. That's why I was scared and plus this isn't my world, I'm in my own novel world. The crow in my novel world is a vampire friend, the one who always reports to the vampire leader is a black crow like the crow in front of me right now.

I scrolled down and started reading the article. 'A curious announcement from the royal house of Medora, a kingdom north of Scotland. The king announced today that a contest will be held to find the crown prince a wife. Medora is known to be secluded, with not much news coming in and out of the country. They announced a test will be put online for whoever has any interest in becoming a queen. It does not matter what your nationality is, as long as you are above eighteen years old.'

Sure enough, Carl, who was tired of drinking tea over there, stood up, looked at the glass lamp he had saved up so hard for, and with a touch of his fingertip, shattered it. He looked up, his gaze falling on the deepest part of the cave, his handsome profile indifferent, surrounded by black mist that kept people away, as if he were a god: "You go, put those lost souls back." "Yes, master," the crow, finally able to move, flapped its wings and was about to take off. Three people walked out from the continuous rain over there. The crow recognized Elijah at a glance. It glanced at its master, then flew up without waiting for orders, concealing its own breath.

One year later. With the ten percent of controlling interests transferred into my name, I founded my own investment firm. Independent. Clean. Untouchable. In a capital market ruled by predators and blood memory, I didn’t merely survive—I secured my ground. I named the company Moonfall. To cross the night of my reckoning. To arrive at my rebirth. The top-floor terrace was planted entirely with white roses. Not for mourning. For remembrance. On an autumn afternoon, the sunlight was warm but restrained.

“Truth destabilizes kingdoms.” Aera stepped closer. “Then maybe it deserves to be destabilized.” ⸻ The Crown’s Echo That night, Aera dreamed. She stood before the divided crown—three arcs hovering in the air. Two glowed faintly. The third remained dark. A voice whispered: Find the others. She woke with her sigil blazing. Not reacting. Calling. ⸻ Elsewhere A hooded figure knelt in candlelight. “The Crown is waking,” they said. Another voice answered, calm and cold. “Good. Let her search.” “And the other heir?” A pause. “Break them first.”