Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A young woman who had yet to pick out her name stood silently, contemplating. Well, she had an idea for a name: Hope. But it still didn’t quite feel like it fit just right.

There wasn’t really a whole lot she remembered, aside from all the things she’d made sure she did. Which, upon consideration, was probably a bit tautological, but considering how to close that loop almost certainly wasn’t worth the time she’d spend thinking about it. Plus, she had a distinct liking for tautological statements - sometimes they had meaning precisely because they didn’t. There were other things to occupy herself with, in any case. Like the question of how to do some of the things she merely knew that she could do, in principle.

For example, she still had to figure out how to properly retreat to the safety of the spirit plane, and avoid dangerous situations by simply not being in them. That was the problem she was currently thinking about with the majority of her spare attention. (Never mind that another part of her attention was often spent narrating to herself. As far as she’d had contact with other immortals, which wasn’t much, she’d gathered that that wasn’t particularly uncommon. And that her dawdling on picking a name was. Maybe that was why “Zeus” had seemed to be in a hurry.)

The problem at hand. Right. He hadn’t said much at all, really, but she did gather that knowing herself was, in some indescribable way, the only trick to this trick. But what sort of self-knowledge did that mean, and why was it so crucial? She was able to put up a barrier to deflect attention just fine without having to deal with what would probably be called social anxiety in anyone who wasn’t an immortal. Nor did she have to grapple with the deep metaphysics of convincing physics that she could fly before she left the ground. So why was this any different?

Question after question after question. And no answers that she hadn’t come up with on the spot, and precious few of those, too. No progress on any of her questions, not even after a good hour of thought. Perhaps it was time to take a break. And for that, she did finally have an idea.

In the time before, who she was had never been able to find the time to sing. Well, maybe that would be more properly “never tried to find the time”. It wasn’t that she didn’t like to - Pandora may not have been human even at the best of times near the end, but even an immortal cannot deny the power of music. She’d simply been so busy, for such a long time. Or at least, that was the excuse she had made for herself, back then.

But now that time had passed, never to be reclaimed. She was- if not free, then less constrained. Neither by herself and what she planned (as little as that was these days), nor by what others thought of her. Not yet weighed down with the worries of her new world. …Well, not many of them, anyway. She had the freedom to do whatever she chose, for the moment. And it had been so very long since she’d truly indulged herself.

And the moment was right. The place was right. As the sun rose, much was brought into view that hid in the dark, and much fled the fading of the night. But in the space between the day and night, in the park at the center of town, all things existed in a transitory instant of possibility. The only thing left to do was to make the choice.

So today, she chose to sing.

---

---

She hadn’t thought particularly hard about what it was she sang (although of course it was based on music she’d heard recently; it was difficult for an immortal to be truly creative). But now, in retrospect, it struck her that her melodious lamentation of “Twilight” might be the shape of the key to her problem. That was to say, perhaps the understanding of herself that she currently lacked was a reckoning of her past. Or, at least, a reckoning of who she had used to be, if not her own past.

So she settled down briefly for a moment to think. What did she truly know about the immortal known as Pandora? Not much, really. She knew a very basic outline of the important parts of Pandora’s life, but these were her own memories of Pandora’s past that had been passed on exactly as both of them recalled. She knew the grief and loss as she or Pandora or both had held Blaike in the aftermath of the attack. Their love for Blaike, and of Adrian, her son. How she’d-

Adrian! As she truly thought for the first time to grapple with her own grief over all that Pandora had done to their son, she felt a strange presence at the back of her mind - a thought or memory that almost felt like her own. Except that it wasn’t hers alone - it was indisputably tinged with the emotional edge of those memories that had been Pandora’s, too. And she knew, somehow, it was something Pandora had left for herself.

What was this? And why had she only just noticed it? With curiosity tempered by wariness, she considered whether she wanted to open this metaphorical box, hidden away as it was. But only briefly - she was, after all, Pandora, in some sense. She might as well live up to her old name.

So she turned the metaphorical key. In her mind’s eye, she saw a woman who looked similar to herself, yet somehow indescribably not quite the same. Maybe it was the most peculiar cloak that she was wearing - seeming all of the same color, yet a closer inspection revealed that it was white, with tiny black feathers flickering in and out of existence. Pandora Chaos Raven - and if she wasn’t mistaken, this must have been her on the very last day.

Thankfully, the memory of Pandora didn’t seem to have planned out what she was going to say. She seemed to have considered and reconsidered speaking several times, or perhaps how she was going to start instead of whether she was going to, before she finally spoke. But at length, she let out a sigh, and began. “I don’t know precisely what name I’m going to take, when the time comes. I’ve got some guesses, but… it would be rude to presume. So… me… would you please pass a message on to Adrian?”

Chapter Text

A young woman who had yet to confirm for herself the name she thought she might choose stood silently, contemplating. Or waiting - there was very little difference between the two, for most immortals. In her case, though, she intended to do both, just now.

As to what she contemplated - the message that Pandora had given to her to give to Adrian. A simple enough message, but somehow it felt directed at her too. Maybe it was the simple directness of how it was spoken, or maybe it was the fact that it had been relayed to her in her memories themselves. Probably that second one, but with an immortal like Pandora, it wasn’t out of the question that at least part of it actually had been directed at her.

As to who she waited for - he hadn’t arrived yet, which is to say that she’d gotten to his office early. That was good - she didn’t think she’d be able to force herself to stay if she had to watch his approach, however quick it might have been. Which is why she had a plan for avoiding precisely that. It might not have been the best of plans, but with so little time to come up with something, it was the best idea she’d had. He probably wouldn’t be expecting anyone to try to deflect his attention, if the worst came to the worst. She just had to believe that.

But thinking such thoughts - that was a dangerous line of inquiry to go down; she feared what her mind told her the outcome might very well be. So she turned her thoughts away, to again consider new ways to slice up Pandora’s message, to paraphrase or restate. This time, she needed equal measures of planning and improvisation. To get the message across in full as best she could, while still being truly genuine in its transference.

The trickiest part, really, would probably be figuring a way to more easily distinguish between paraphrasing what Pandora was saying and the words that she herself was saying. Although… Pandora had sounded subtly different to how she sounded, when she’d spoken in the memory. Maybe that was replicable. She tried out a few different ways to vary her voice, but somehow none of them worked precisely right. Maybe it needed a tone of confidence? That was something which was difficult for her to pull off properly...

And then there was a noise in the background. Something so subtle that she’d almost missed it - but which she knew had only one possible origin. Adrian Raven - her son - had finally arrived. She tightened her perceptual filter, the subtle magics that blinded others to her presence, and stood in silence until he’d entered the room. Had it worked?

It seemed so. He’d had an odd look about him as he entered his office, but a quick look around seemed to have convinced him that nothing was amiss. If she’d been unlucky, and he’d merely put on an illusion today, there was no way she’d have been able to hide. As it was, it seemed he suspected nothing. There was nothing left to do but seize the moment.

So despite her misgivings, she chose to sing.

---

—

Adrian Raven knew something wasn’t quite right, this morning. He’d felt it when he walked in the door - a feeling sort of like he was being watched, though not quite the same. An unnerving feeling.

But whatever the unseen eyes on him were, if they were eyes, they did not feel malevolent. The wards he’d set up in his office would have gently removed any who entered with malicious intent, and the security cameras that covered almost the entire school meant this mysterious watcher couldn’t be too flashy if they’d managed to bypass that defense. But that was a double-edged sword, limiting his options as well.

In truth, he had lived too long and fought too many battles to presume, simply because something seemed harmless, that it truly was. It would not do to announce to his observer that he knew something was up - that was his greatest advantage, if events came to blows. …Not that he hoped they would, but events had a way of not going the way he’d hoped.

As Raven registered a sound like toneless music that he couldn’t hear or make out, but definitely existed, it was an effort to conceal that he was able to sense anything. An ordinary human wouldn’t be sensitive enough to realize anything was amiss. His mother would have known exactly what was up, but there was little she didn’t know. …Now why had he thought of Pandora, of all people, there? Was this some sort of effect of the sound he could hear, but not notice? And just what was that sound, anyway?

He sat down, pulling out a test that had yet to be graded. It would be an excellent excuse for him to tilt his head and listen while looking like he was thinking. Perhaps that would be enough. Although - did the name on this test say “Pandora”? A closer look revealed that it had, in fact, read “Permelia”, who was indeed a student of his. But he misread things rarely enough that it confirmed his suspicions - someone was trying to get him to think of his mother.

Raven set about his failing to grade as carefully as he could. Yet even the most careful listening revealed nothing other than snatches of conversation out in the hall during the brief passing period. And he found it difficult to prevent his mind from wandering and wondering many things about his mother - but most of all, who could possibly gain from him thinking about his mother, an immortal who had already reset?

At length, the sound stopped. Not that he noticed right away - it was beyond difficult to notice the lack of a sound that he almost didn’t know he’d heard. It was just as well, though - the short time between classes was beginning to draw near its end, and it would be nice to have an excuse to leave the watchful eye of surveillance.

But as he opened his office door to leave, he noticed a note, left where no note had been when he’d sat down. A note just eight words long:

“Can we meet tomorrow afternoon at the park?”

Yet it was not the note itself that attracted most of his attention. It was the hand with which it was written - almost identical to Pandora’s. More notably, that his identification of the handwriting didn’t change on second or third glance.

And perhaps most importantly, that there were now no eyes watching him, if that was truly what he had felt.

Chapter Text

A young woman who had yet to feel comfortable with the name she’d chosen stood silently, contemplating. Consuming herself with thought so that she wouldn’t panic. Not overmuch, anyway - given how long she’d been waiting, a little anxiety was okay. Or a lot. Any amount short of breaking and running away, really.

She glanced up at the cold gray sky overhead, rumbling with an indeterminable indisputability. It was definitely either going to rain, or else it wasn’t. But whichever ended up being the result, it wouldn’t be long now before she found out. Before everyone who cared found out. Not that she thought it likely that anyone would be around other than herself and Adrian - it was, after all, not the sort of day many people would choose to be out and about. The perfect sort of day for what she was about to do.

Yet in spite of all her considerations and planning over the past two days, she still didn’t really feel ready to do this. To speak to anyone Pandora had known, so that they would know she was who Pandora had become. And that of all people it had to be Adrian she reached out to first! ...It was only fair to him. He was her son. Of course he deserved to be the first who knew she was back! But... he’d also known Pandora the longest, by far. He’d know exactly how she wasn’t who she could be. Who she was trying to be. ...Who she had to be, for both their sakes.

And that was just it, wasn’t it? Pandora’s impossible legacy had left her with so very few choices. She would never be another Pandora - even she had rejected that path, in the end. But if she couldn’t be who she had been, what was there left? To live forever in the shadow of the past, and never be anything but a pale reflection? To cast aside her history and reject all that she had been, but in doing so to lose forever all that she’d given everything up for? She refused these options, but to forge a new path was beyond difficult. To balance on the edge of a blade, knowing that to fall either way was to lose who she was now.

But reaching out, at long last, couldn’t be put off forever either. To do so would be to make the choice that she so very much wished to avert entirely. She was trapped on all sides - a choice to make, that must be made, and yet which demanded what she was yet unable to give. To square away the two halves of this perfect paradox. To have an answer to the question she constantly asked herself, and for which she dreaded the day she knew her final answer.

Who am I?

The clouds overhead had darkened and clustered together, but the pause before the rain fell lengthened. It was still possible that it would not rain. But she still wasn’t sure which she would prefer. The rain to drive others away, or the sun to bring them closer. She shivered in anticipation or terror or jubilation. There was no way to know what the future would bring.

But it was soon to be time. And the whirlwind of emotions she felt threatened to sweep her away, for good or for ill. It seemed she needed a distraction even from her distractions. Well, there was one thing she could try - a beacon for Adrian to follow, a channel for all the emotions she meant to ignore. An anchor to keep herself there as every fiber of her being pulled her in different directions; half toward Adrian, half in the other direction, and all away from where she stood now. Just precisely what she needed.

So with eyes tightly shut, she chose to sing.

---

---

Adrian Raven hurried at a pace that a casual observer might mistake for merely jogging, but which might more accurately be described “as fast as would be unsuspicious”. His last class had let out barely five minutes before, but he had a place to be and he was danged well sure that nothing so simple as school rules would stop him from being there. The sky overhead rumbled - still unsure as yet whether it was going to rain or not. Yet another incentive to hurry up, he supposed.

A chill wind blew past as his pace picked up - thankfully he’d brought a coat. At length, he reached the entrance to the park, and took a brief opportunity to duck off the beaten path. He didn’t see anyone around, but it was always best to remain more or less out of sight when dealing with magic. Especially with what he was doing - it felt odd taking off his more elderly mask while still being out and about, but for this he had to be himself.

Briefly stopping to check that no one was around, and after some thought, to set up a simple anti-rain charm on his jacket, he set off towards roughly the middle of the park. He couldn’t sense much of anything, either by sight or by taste, aside from a faintly lingering hint of sweetness just on the edge of perception that could well have just been one last remnant of last year’s boar.

That is, he saw nothing until he drew near a clearing that looked not particularly different from any other. That was when he heard a young woman’s voice, eerily similar to Pandora’s yet subtly different. And she was… singing? Not particularly loudly, either, which meant she wasn’t far at all.

“Remember the days when we were younger?...”

Raven didn’t remember that he’d ever heard his mother singing. She’d claimed sometimes when they’d both been much younger that she enjoyed the freedom she felt she had when she did. But since his father had died it had seemed like the part of her that sang had disappeared along with him. Hearing someone singing in what sounded like her voice brought back a lot of memories he didn’t know he’d had from that far back. When his relationship with his mother hadn’t been so fractured.

“...I’ve been hiding, but from you I’m not immune...”

But he was listening, and quietly heading towards the source so as not to startle her with a sudden and loud noise. Though as he got within eyeshot of her, he realized his mistake - she was keeping her eyes shut tight as she sang, perhaps to avoid visual distractions as well. And by his recollection of this song, she wasn’t particularly far through her rendition of it - maybe she’d open her eyes when she finished, but for now it would be best to wait. So he carefully and quietly sat down to listen.

“Fly, fly from the troubled lie,
Into a new world shining bright, oh, oh...”

She looked like Pandora, sort of. But Pandora as she would have been when she was much younger - maybe even before his father had died. She was floating in midair, about ten feet up, and seemed to be balancing on a tightrope or something similar. He couldn’t quite tell if this was intentional or if it was simply her body reflecting what she was thinking about as she sang; somehow, he guessed his knowledge of his mother would not be particularly relevant anymore.

“As the minutes go by, what should I do?...”

She was nearing the end of her song now. Raven settled down with uncertainty - waiting to see what she was going to do. Realizing he’d spent far more time yesterday anxiously awaiting this than thinking about what he might say. And above all - hoping that despite his concerns and worries and everything else, that she, too, would want to stay awhile.

---

As the last words left her lips, the young immortal who had yet to think of herself as “Hope” found herself floating in midair - surprising, considering her previous attempts at music she hadn’t moved nearly so much. So she began to descend and slowly opened her eyes. Aiming her gaze downward, just in case, to avoid meeting Adrian’s eyes if he were standing where she’d guessed he might be by now. Alas, she hadn’t accounted for the possibility that he might be sitting - and the first thing she saw was Adrian returning her gaze.

She should have expected it. It probably wouldn’t have helped, but she could at least have mentally prepared herself for her inevitable mistake. As it was, she froze in her descent, paralyzed by her own uncertainties. He seemed as unprepared for her presence as she was, as if he’d half-expected her to go running off as suddenly as she’d appeared. And he hadn’t spoken yet, either.

Unfortunately, gravity still called. And with her focus entirely on Adrian, she didn’t realize until too late that she was about to answer rather quickly.

She hadn’t been too far up from the ground, only around ten feet or so, which was a mixed blessing, really. She didn’t have the time to catch herself on the way down, nor to land gently. But it wasn’t a long enough fall to really be dangerous. Falling like a rock hadn’t hurt her too badly - just her pride, and her pain.

---

Adrian Raven watched as the woman who, presumably, had once been named Pandora gradually opened her eyes. Looking directly at him. She froze for a moment, as he tried to think of something to say - but then suddenly, without warning, she plummeted to the ground. His reflexes were pretty quick, though not quite quick enough to catch someone twenty feet away and ten feet in the air. But he almost managed to catch her anyway.

Fortunately, it didn’t look like the fall had injured her much, if at all; she was quickly gaining her bearings. He knelt down next to the immortal who might have been his mother, and offered her a hand up. And broke the silence:

“Are you okay?”

He wasn’t quite sure whether his tone of concern had been filial or parental in nature. He wasn’t quite sure it mattered. She took his hand anyway, and when she finally got up she looked at him for just a moment in silence. It was a look he knew well - one that his own mother had given him many times when he was her student - something like wistful hope, though it was much more than that. There was no one who had known that look but Pandora.

A few tears welled up in her eyes, and possibly in his - he wasn’t sure, but it seemed likely. Blinking them away, she suddenly rushed to embrace him. Raven was taken aback for a moment, but only for a moment, before returning her hug with his own. And the two of them stood there for quite some time - each wordlessly answering his question for the other.

Far above, indeterminability turned to inevitability, as the winter’s last, late flurry of snow began to fall.

Chapter Text

Adrian Raven was trapped - but in a good way.

A young woman who had not yet told him her name stood silently, with her arms wrapped tightly around him and tears streaming down her face. And Adrian Raven returned her embrace with something like the same amount of vigor; it wasn’t so much that he feared her disappearance on a logical level, given how closely she clung to him, but emotions have a funny way of not listening to logic.

The snow continued to drift down around them - though thankfully, his coat kept it at bay, for the most part. Nevertheless, he felt a shudder run through her, and though it could have been just the height of emotion, he noticed that her clothes were not particularly well-suited for colder weather. It may have been the usual subtly-ever-shifting fare of most immortals, but it wasn’t particularly thick or otherwise warm-looking. He’d say something - but he didn’t really want to break the silence yet.

Of course, two or three minutes later, she still hadn’t changed her position. Neither had he, of course - but she was definitely shivering now. The temperature hadn’t gone down all that quickly, but he guessed she’d been outside and exposed to the elements far longer than was probably safe, even for an immortal. Especially for a young immortal like she was, now. For now, the silence around the two of them had said everything that needed to be said - but it had to be broken. For her sake.

“Do you have a place to stay?" Raven asked as gently as he could.

He waited for a response, but for a few seconds, none came. She'd barely even moved; he almost couldn’t even tell she'd heard him. Though he knew she had; she'd squeezed him a bit tighter for an instant or two when he spoke. So he gave her some time to think. Or to build up the courage to speak, as he had had to do. And indeed, at length, she did respond.

"I- ...not really." And after she spoke, she lightly pulled away from him, as if to run. Or maybe to talk more face-to-face, he considered. He couldn't hold on to her forever - and it probably was well past time to let go. That didn't mean it wasn't hard, though. And it was made all the harder by how cold she looked, how thoroughly she was shivering. How important it was to make sure she was safe.

She drew a thin white cloak around herself, as though it would hold back the snow, and averted her gaze. Looking near him, but not at him; flicking her eyes towards his, and just as quickly away. Seeming about to speak, and saying nothing - as if she couldn’t find the words to say. Perhaps it was better to take the lead on this conversation. But first… Raven took his jacket off and wordlessly offered it to her. Thankfully, she accepted - though she didn’t look a whole lot warmer just yet.

"That’s okay,” he replied. And he made a point of looking her in the eye for his next sentence. “Let’s go home.” And gave her a hopeful smile, as best he could manage. It had been quite some time since he’d done that - and there was no better time to do it again.

At his most recent words, she looked right at him, her eyes jolting from the spot somewhere over his left shoulder that they had flittered to. First with surprise and a bit of shock, slowly fading into disbelief. And, finally, at last, something that might have been a smile; an expression whose indeterminacy was worthy of Pandora’s… whoever she was.

“I think I’d like that,” she whispered. She slowly began nodding as she spoke again, with a bit more fullness than before. “I think I’d like that very much. Thank you.” The last words were a whisper even quieter than the first, but even so, Adrian Raven was still able to hear.

He didn’t say anything, though. Not to something like that, that wasn’t really meant for him to hear. So, instead, after some time to let their previous words dissipate a bit, he asked one last question, the only one left that was truly important. A question that, despite all appearances, it seemed she’d not yet been prepared for.

“What should I call you?”

—

A young immortal who yet feared to speak her name stood silently, contemplating. Paused in an instant of thought. Weighing her options one last time before she irrevocably committed herself, and the merits and the downsides of each and every choice that could be made. Though the only ideas she considered were constrained by Adrian’s inquiry, that which cut to the core of everything. It was so terribly tempting to simply give in, to forget, to wipe the slate clean. It would all be so much simpler if she could.

But she couldn’t run forever, could she? She was who she was, and who she had been, and who she would be. Even if those could change, she would always be Pandora and Pandora would always have been her. What right had she to reject her birthright? …But what right, either, had she to claim it? She was everything she hadn’t been, too. In many ways, an antithesis of Pandora, at the end.

It was the fundamental contradiction, the inherent paradox of what she had chosen to be. How could she reconcile everything that she needed to be with everything she had to be? A perfect, perpetual answer remained out of reach. But she felt that someday, perhaps, she might find a way up. And really, wasn’t that how she defined herself? Neither Pandora, nor yet not; but rather seeking endlessly someplace in between. An unaccountable niche that there was no evidence existed, save for her own conviction. And the conviction itself, that she could carry on even when there was no destination in sight.

In truth, she’d pretty much known even before this last debate what she would name herself. Though it was one thing to decide on a name, and yet another to truly commit, it had finally come time for all things to fall, and to finally, truly have an answer to the question she had asked of herself so many times before. ‘Who am I’, indeed. And so, with every shred of will that she was able to conjure up, she turned towards Adrian - Pandora’s son - her son - and gave the answer that was an ending - and a beginning - at last.

“Call me… Hope.”

As the words left her lips, something slowly locked into place deep inside. That and nothing else was the name she had chosen for herself. Now, now more than ever before, Hope knew who she was. Though not really in a way she could put to words - merely an indescribable feeling, something like contentment or certainty or maybe inevitability. A shiver of anticipation or terror or jubilation, or maybe just of the chill in the air. But most of all - of hope.

And as the two of them prepared to leave the park there was only one thing left that needed to be done. A channel for the emotions she now felt, at least for a little bit. A reassurance to Adrian that she wasn’t going anywhere, should he hear. And above all - an affirmation, for herself, that despite the choices she’d made, she hadn’t changed.

So in a whisper, Hope began to sing.

---

—

Noah had already gotten back to their house, but Raven had not arrived home yet. That was unusual. Especially given that he had not mentioned one word of being delayed when they had talked at lunch.

Noah tried his best to not let himself think too much about the possibilities of what things may have gone wrong. Nothing had seemed off earlier in the day, but perhaps something had simply come up and his father had had to stay behind. It had happened before. So why could he not shake the feeling that something important was happening?

Perhaps a bit of music would help. Something calming, and instrumental - that one song he had heard not too long ago sprang to mind. What was it - some orchestral work or another about heartbreak, or something approximately like that? Thankfully, it did not take particularly long to find. But Noah tried not to think about what his next step would be, after taking the time to listen.

Fortunately, he did not have time to worry particularly much. Just as the music was winding down, he heard the front door open. Though he did not expect what came next. What Raven said as he walked across the threshold. Sounding differently than he had since the events at the mall. …Sounding hopeful.

“Noah? There’s someone you should meet…”