@happydeath
Revan glided over the territory of the Black Rose, looking for Avaddon's house with his Eagle Eyes. He found it and glided down, wings straining, slowing his fall to a slow descent. He landed on the railing of his balcony silently, his wings spread to either side. He had been told he looked like an angel, rather than a demon.
An angel of death.
From within his robe, he drew three things. One was a raven's feather, abnormally large. Because it had come from him. The next was a note, which said one thing; sorry. The last... the last was a black rose, one of the three he had miraculously come across near the statue's rubble. It was said they grew in two places; places of sorrow, which was exactly what that was, and Sundavrblaka'baen - the abandoned city of Revan's forefathers. As he set the three items on the ground, the rose levitated off of the ground upright, one of the many subtle magical qualities of the flower. The note, what he intended to say, which could easily be confused given the two clans' history. The last, a signature of sorts. A raven's feather.
Then he silently leaped off the balcony, spreading his wings as he flew off.
He was never good at words, especially apologies, so something like this was better, at least for him.