Information

Crow has a minion!

Kafka the Tamura

Crow
Legacy Name: Crow

The

Darkmatter Lain
Owner:

Darling

Age: 17 years, 6 months, 2 weeks

Born: October 13th, 2006

Adopted: 13 years, 8 months, 1 week ago

Adopted: August 14th, 2010

Statistics

Level: 195
Strength: 488
Defense: 481
Speed: 480
Health: 481
HP: 481/481
Intelligence: 4
Books Read: 0
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Store Clerk

"Thirteen times? But that's impossible." Crow had been composed up until that point, but now the superstitious bunk was beginning to test his patience.
"Yes, thirteen times. On your thirteenth birthday, you will find yourself transformed. On your fourteenth, you will become a murderer. On your fifteenth, you will kill the person you love, not once but thirteen times." The fortune teller said this in such a matter-of-fact tone that, for a second, the boy wondered if this was some sort of elaborate prank. But no, it seemed she was quite serious.
"But how? Am I going to follow her into the next life and murder her there? And then into the next?" He was being smart, of course; he didn't believe in anything like reincarnation. Now he was beginning to test her patience.
"I think that's quite enough. Say hello to your mother for me when you tell her the news. And remember, child, that things aren't always as they seem."

But what was he to tell her? He knew this was very important to her, but at the same time, he couldn't in good conscience pass this inauspicious reading to her when he knew she was in poor health. And anyway, it was just a bunch of nonsense, wasn't it?

Sure enough, on his thirteenth birthday, the boy awoke like Gregor Samsa into a body that wasn't his own. Terrified, he winged himself away with all the grace of fledgling to wait it out like he did all nightmares. But this nightmare did not pass, and so he weathered the stages of shock and adapted to this new life with the same dignity he'd used to face challenges in the past. The curse was real, but he was clever, and with enough practice he'd harnessed it to the point where it became a sort of escape; an opportunity to live a second life full of feathers, wind and evening sky.

Everything changed when he turned fourteen. An optimist might have been able to interpret the first sign as a blessing, but the second was undeniably a curse. Thrashing in his sheets after a night of violent dreams, Crow awoke on the morning of his fourteenth birthday covered in blood- someone else's- and knew then that he could not outrun his fate. He left home and resolved to make his way in the city; after all, he had always been able to take care of himself, had he not?

However tough he was, he was still fourteen, and he appreciated whatever help he could get. And, however cynical he had become, he couldn't deny that some good had come of his bad luck. He was beginning to realize how it was he could possibly kill a person thirteen times, and he was beginning to feel that the fortune had not been what it had seemed...

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