A Special Sunday Story 

  
((All creds to Willow Raven as the artist)). 

The City of Mecha and Raven Queens- a Short Story by Sophia Whittemore 

At the end of time, there were two cities, floating in the clouds. One was constructed of iron and steel, and it was called the City of  Mecha, run entirely by men. The other floating city, directly across from it, was a city run by women, strong warriors who dared to worship the Raven Queen. The men sat there, scribbling in their books and tinkering with their toys of iron whilst the women built temples so high that the very gods touched upon them once in a while. 

Mayor Albatross of the City of Mecha gazed into his telescope and spied on the city across from them. His eyes lingered over the women’s exercises, running spears through stacks of hay and slaughtering raging bulls with their bare hands. “I tell you, now that’s a woman!” He cried, staring forlornly at the tenuous wooden bridge that connected the two cities. “What a pity we cannot cross over.”

“We could cross over with an army of iron golems to defend us,” replied Father Ari, “but why should we? Those warriors believe that we are the heathens worshipping our gods of steel when they are worshipping a woman with the head of a raven! Heathens all of them! They’ll find out their warrior sacrifices were all for nothing once they accept proper civilization.”

Mayor Albatross, a young man really since he had been unwittingly nominated for the job, continued to stare at the High Raven Priestess on the other side of the chasm. “Sinner.” Muttered Father Ari, catching his uncouth gaze. 

“I’m sorry, Father. But you know yourself how our population has been depleting. The women fled Mecha to live with the Raven warriors once my father enforced that silly rule banning women from the laboratories and resigning them to lives only based on raising children and running households.”

“I am the one who asked your father to make that rule. We are better off to become nothing than to breed with the foolish population.”  Father Ari frowned at him. “By Iron’s Blood.” He prayed, invoking the sacred oath of the Mechanics. 

Mayor Albatross wanted to say something more, but only sighed softly. “By Iron’s Soul.” 

But at night, under the cover of darkness, Mayor Albatross, young and impressionable, went out to meet the High Priestess. They met on the rope bridge. When he arrived, panting heavily from lack of physical fitness, the High Priestess was laughing at him. “You are weak.” She remarked astutely. 

“I climbed down twelve flights of stairs to get here.”

“I clambered down a mountain.” She replied, not looking as though she even broke a sweat. “Tell me, sweet Frederick Albatross, do you love me?”

He blushed. “It is a sin to speak of such things in Mecha.”

Her voice rang inside his head, poking, prodding. Frederick Albatross shuddered, hating when she did this. But do you love me?

I do. He replied, unflinching.

She held her hand out to him. Then trust me. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, putting his hand into her own. 
Her eyes glittering, she fell back from the bridge, pulling Frederick into her strong, muscled arms. Her cloak billowed around her, enveloping him in feathers and darkness. 

We fly. . .