Brother Raven and Sister Crow

Once, there was a queen who had no children, and for many years she longed for one. Her ladies in waiting, her maids, and the women in her kingdom all bore children until at last she could take it no longer. As she walked in her garden, bordering a vast, twisting forest, she spoke aloud, “They say that owls leave foundlings at the doors of the childless. I would not care if crows or ravens brought me a child, only that I might have one.”
So saying, she turned to go into her castle, but she heard the flapping of feathers, and when she looked, beheld two children on her path, a boy and a girl. Each of the children held in hand a black feather—the girl held a crow’s feather, and the boy a raven’s feather.
The queen took in these children, and named the girl Crow and the boy Raven, after the feathers they held. The two grew as children do, and when they were old enough, asked about their birth, for they suspected they were not the king’s blood. The queen told them how they had been delivered to her, that they were not even “Owl Children” as foundlings are usually called, but children brought by black wings indeed. That night, the brother and sister conferred with one another about this truth.
“We have no true parentage,” they decided. “No mortal blood at all. We must see what we are, for we are the first children born in this way.” Thus decided, they went out that evening under cover of night.
They traveled a path until they came to a fork. One way led to a dark and wild wood, while the other showed a bright grove.
“I shall walk the wildwood,” said Brother Raven.
“And I the gentle grove,” said Sister Crow. So they parted. They each walked a night and a day, whereupon Sister Crow came to a river of needles, and at that moment, Brother Raven came to a river of swords.
“I shall not be daunted,” they each said to themselves, and crossed the fearsome obstacle. Walking on, Brother Raven came to a sea of spears, and Sister Crow to a lake of pins.
“I shall not be turned aside here,” they each said, and so found transportation across—Sister Crow made a boat of her shawl, and Brother Raven one of his cloak. Once across, Brother Raven came to a vast swale, set within was a twisted tree. Sister Crow discovered a cay within the lake, verdant and clear, with only a sapling upon it. Sister Crow, being weary, took refuge beneath the sapling, while Brother Raven took shelter in a small cave.
After resting for a while, Brother Raven woke, and wondered where this cave might lead, so went further in. Deep in the depths, he found an egg of gold. Sister Crow, on waking, looked up into the branches of her sapling, and saw a glint. She pulled it down with a long twig, and found a shining treasure of her own—a gossamer thread.
“Now I have power such as Brother Raven does not know,” thought Sister Crow.
“With this, I am more than my sister,” Brother Raven reasoned.
With their treasures, each sibling built for themselves a home, furnished as they liked, and hid the treasures within. Brother Raven thought to call on his sister just as his sister thought to call on him. They took once more their boats and crossed the sea of lances and the lake of pins, then came once more to the road. Sister Crow passed a fine castle, and called upon the power she had acquired on her isle, and uprooted the castle, planting it on her home. On the road, Brother Raven came across a formidable tower. He called upon the power he had acquired in the cave, and so tore up the tower and removed it to his new residence. They each continued on their journey to meet each other. Brother Raven crossed a final river—that of blood—while his sister came to one of tears, and each crossed. Coming to a glen, they saw one another.
“Good brother,” said Sister Crow, “I have something to show you.”
“And I, you,” replied Brother Raven, “my dearest sister, let us see what we can do.”
Brother Raven drew forth his golden prize, and Sister Crow procured her shining filament. They came together and did encounter with all that their powers brought to bear. The noise of their battle was like that of a hurricane, and the ground shook with fury. Kingdoms rocked; eagles, lions and wolves shuddered; it was a most terrible row that shook the foundations of the World itself. For some time, they seemed evenly matched—sword to needle, lance to pin, blood to tears, and neither could best the other. Through rain and sun, day and night, they combatted one another.
It is said that at the end, one did finally best the other, though through force of strength or by guile, who can say? If Brother Raven bested his sister, would she not have wrapped her thread so tightly around him as to strangle the life out of him slowly thereafter? But if she bested him, would not his golden treasure have burned her away? If so, then can it be said that either of the two won at all?