The Clan of Raven (Ryden)

{three}

There is an abandoned train station across the railway tracks they pass, and Spencer cuts through over the tracks, threading his way in between the dry shrubs that have grown from between the iron bars. The rain clouds are a threatening mass of blueish grey now, and Ryan glances up every now and then. The first drops are starting to fall when they duck under the decayed station platform and crawl their way through to an open spot. Ryan is the last to enter the dark, lair-like dent under the platform, and he kneels beside the entrance. It's dark inside, but as his eyes get used to the lack of light, Ryan studies his surroundings more closely. They are under the train platform in a hollow that possibly wasn't designed to be there, but time and erosion have done their job on the concrete and supporting iron bars, creating an open space with a concrete ceiling covering most of it. Ryan thinks the place can't be safe to hang out in, but he doesn't voice his opinion aloud.

Spencer fumbles around him and then there is the unmistakable sound of a match being lit. A yellow glow reflects from Spencer's face, and then Brendon's hand is within the reach of the fire, sticking three candles into the flame, one at a time. They light up soon, and Brendon hands one in Jon's direction and waits until Spencer has put out the match to hand him one as well. Brendon's eyes are dark in the eerie halo of the candles, and he looks mildly apologetic. "We only have three candles," Brendon confesses. "But we'll get a fourth!" he assures.

Ryan doesn't miss the glance Spencer and Jon exchange, a swift flick of eyes meeting over the circle they're now sitting in, facing each other from four directions. Brendon apparently is ready to welcome Ryan into this circle of previously three, but Ryan feels as if he needs to convince Spencer and Jon that he's adequate. Or maybe not so much Jon, but Spencer. Ryan doesn't know how he can prove he's worthy of this, whatever it is, but as he looks across the small space and meets Brendon's happy gaze, he thinks he's willing to try.

The rain is thrumming the ground outside. From the hole they crawled through Ryan can see the heavy droplets splashing on the hard-packed dust, wetting the shrubs and flooding into the dents on the ground. There is a sound of dripping water coming from behind Brendon, and Ryan can see droplets prickling over Brendon's forearm. Brendon doesn't seem to mind getting wet, though, as he merely brushes his arm across the chest of his shirt and steadies his candle in between two bricks on the floor of their makeshift accommodation.

Spencer turns and digs around him again, and when he returns he's holding a crumpled, pocket-sized dictionary with dark stains that have seeped through some pages. "Here." He extends the book at Ryan, who takes it, feeling mildly confused.

"Open the book at a random spot," Jon explains.

"Stick your finger in a random spot on the random page," Brendon continues, his mouth twisted into a facetious smile.

"...And read us the definition," Spencer finishes.

Ryan looks down at the book in his hand and hesitates. Then he pushes his index finger randomly in between the thin pages and opens the dictionary. Once the page is there in front of him, Ryan slides his finger on a word.

"Rhap·so·dy," he reads. "Noun. Plural: rhap·so·dies.
1. Exalted or excessively enthusiastic expression of feeling in speech or writing.
2. A literary work written in an impassioned or exalted style.
3. A state of elated bliss; ecstasy.
4. Music A usually instrumental composition of irregular form that often incorporates improvisation.
5. An ancient Greek epic poem or a portion of one suitable for uninterrupted recitation."

Ryan looks up from the page and meets three pairs of eyes in the dimness of their shelter. The moment doesn't seem real to him, everything is shaded in gilded candlelight and dark aubergine shadows. It's like one of those oddly vivid dreams he sometimes has, and suddenly it feels as if the three in front of him will disappear any second, vanish just like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that scatter on the ground, the picture vanishing in a crash. "That's it," he says, closing the book soundlessly.

"A state of elated bliss, ecstasy. I like the sound of that," Brendon says, bunching the hem of his red t-shirt into a jumbled mess in his fingers. He seems to be unaware of the constant movements of his body, like he's so used to twitching into this or that direction all the time that it happens without his conscious paying attention to it.

"Rhapsodian generation," Jon grins after a contemplative silence, during which the rain falls heavy on their sheltered hideout. The air feels hot and humid, and Ryan thinks he can feel his hair curling at the nape of his neck - it always does that when dampened.

"Actually, it's rhapsodic in adjective form," Ryan asserts, bringing a finger up to touch his hair where it falls against his neck. Yep, definitely curling. Spencer's cold eyes stare at Ryan over the candle flame, seem to measure his every move. "It was said in the dictionary!" Ryan explains and waves towards the book in his lap.

"Whatever," Jon says with a broad smile. "Rhapsodic generation, then."

"What do you mean by that?" Brendon asks and Ryan is so glad he did, because Ryan wouldn't have ventured to. Not under that gaze Spencer aims at him.

"Aren't we supposedly the youth who wastes their lives into too much emotion and searches for constant oblivion?" Jon muses.

Spencer snorts. "A quest for the Holy Oblivion," he laughs.

Ryan has absolutely no idea what they're talking about. He looks across the circle their bodies form, and meeting Brendon's eyes feels reassuring in a way, like maybe Brendon isn't all aware what's going on here either. Even though their acquaintance so far is only an ephemeral scratch on the surface of something deeper, Ryan feels more connected to Brendon than to the other two so-called Ravens. He recalls Spencer's words of how he and Jon grew up together, so it makes sense. They have known each other for their whole lives, and Brendon is the odd number there, the newer kid. Ryan swallows, because right now, he is the new kid in this group. He doesn't know why they invited him to join them, but it feels good, like maybe he wants to do it again. Perhaps every day for the rest of the summer vacation - to sit in secret dark places, talk nonsense and just be. The rhapsodic generation.