Chapter 7

A few weeks had passed since Thalia's strange encounter with Anisda, yet the memory of the raven and the words it had spoken haunted her mind like a whisper in the dark. The pendant left behind—a black stone carved with strange markings—felt heavier around her neck with each passing night. It had begun to glow faintly, especially in the deepest hours before dawn. It pulsed like a dying ember, as though longing to be rekindled. But why? What power did it hold?

The mystery of it consumed her thoughts, yet life in the castle carried on. Her father, King Derek, had arranged a grand feast, summoning noble families and high-ranking knights to revel in excess and strengthen alliances. It was a night of merriment, but for Thalia, it was a reminder of her position as heir—a duty her father still hesitated to embrace.

On the following day, she wandered into the castle gardens, where she found William crouched in the grass, utterly lost in his fascination with the insects he so adored. He had collected a few beetles in a small wooden box, drawing their anatomy with precision.

"Wouldst thou not rather enjoy the feast?" he asked, glancing up at her before returning his focus to a particularly large beetle.

Thalia, distracted, had not even registered his question. She had been standing with her hands clasped behind her back, staring up at the sky where ravens circled high above.

"William," she asked suddenly, "do you think it possible for a raven to speak the language of men?"

William scoffed lightly, setting his charcoal aside. "Some can mimic sounds, even human voices, but 'tis naught but mimicry."

She frowned. "But what if 'tis more than that? What if there were a raven who truly understood speech?"

William smirked at her curiosity. "And what would such a creature say?"

Before she could answer, the distant clamor of running footsteps and shouting caught their attention. A group of guards sprinted across the courtyard, their expressions grave.

"MADNESS AT THE GATE! A MAN GONE MAD!"

Thalia and William exchanged a glance before following in pursuit, but as they neared the commotion, the growing crowd made it impossible for Thalia to see what was happening. Frustrated, she turned on her heel and ran toward the highest tower she could find, knowing the view would be clearer from above. William followed without hesitation.

From their vantage point, they looked down at the castle gates, where guards stood ready with swords drawn. Before them, a lone rider slumped in his saddle, his body barely holding upright. His horse—glistening with sweat—staggered beneath him, its leg ravaged by a festering wound. Flies swarmed the gash, and blood dripped onto the cobblestone path like candle wax.

The murmurs of the gathered spectators turned to gasps as the man lifted his head. His face was pale, his skin stretched thin over his bones. He looked like a man who had already walked halfway into the grave.

"It is I—Lord Edric Varrow—Master of Shipments. I must speak with His Majesty at once," the man croaked, his voice brittle like dry parchment.

The crowd parted as King Derek stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Where are your men, Edric? What has become of you?"

The lord's lips trembled. "Your Grace… we were attacked at sea. We are at war."

The air shifted, the weight of his words settling upon those gathered like an iron shroud. Murmurs of dread spread like wildfire.

The King narrowed his gaze. "Take him inside. Bathe him, feed him, and summon the court at once."

—

Later that evening, Thalia sat with William in the library, pacing with frustration. "I must be there! I must hear what he has to say."

"But you cannot, Thalia," William reasoned. "They would not allow it."

Just then, the young librarian boy appeared as if summoned, tapping them both on the shoulder before gesturing for them to follow. They obeyed without question as he led them to the back of the library. There, he pressed his hand against a section of the wall, revealing a hidden passageway. He held a finger to his lips, wordlessly instructing them to remain silent.

With careful steps, they made their way through the darkness, emerging behind a wooden partition in the great hall where the court had gathered. Through a small gap, they could see everything.

Lord Edric, now cleaned and somewhat revived, stood before the assembled nobility. His hands trembled as he recounted his tale.

"We had been sailing the waters of Bellsea, returning from Darkwood Isle. The journey was meant to be peaceful, the sea calm. We carried darkwood—a timber both rare and strong. We thought nothing of the voyage, until the clouds turned black and the wind betrayed us. It was as if the gods themselves sought to swallow our ship whole."

He swallowed hard. "And then… a man climbed aboard."

A hush fell over the hall.

"His skin was white as bone, his hair long, and his armor of a kind I have never seen. He carried two daggers—swift, deadly."

William's father interrupted. "Are you saying a man came out of the water?"

Laughter erupted from some of the lords, but the King silenced them with a glare. "Continue."

Edric's voice trembled. "He killed my men. All of them. No matter how many attacked at once, they fell like leaves in the wind. I alone remained."

"And how did you survive?" Derek asked, eyes sharp.

Edric exhaled shakily. "I asked what he wanted. He did not answer. But then, he spoke: 'Have the darkfolk made contact with Yainna? Is that why you have come for darkwood?' I knew not what he meant."

The hall stirred at the mention of the darkfolk—beings of myth and nightmare.

"Then he struck me," Edric continued, voice hoarse. "The last thing I recall was his fist meeting my face."

The audience leaned in as he recounted what came next.

"I awoke upon the shore, the ship gone. I made my way to a town, desperate for a horse. I thought myself safe—until I saw him again."

A chill crept through Thalia's spine.

"He stood atop a distant horizon, watching me. The same daggers, the same armor. I turned my horse and rode. Rode faster than I ever have."

His breath hitched. "But he was faster."

Gasps rippled through the hall.

"I heard him behind me, his feet pounding against the ground with unnatural speed. My horse screamed, its legs giving way as he lunged upon its back, his teeth—TEETH—sinking into its flesh like a beast hunting prey."

A woman in the crowd covered her mouth in horror.

"I looked into his eyes as he tried to reach the horse's throat, and what I saw… was not human. Red glints in the night, glowing with hunger."

Silence reigned. No laughter now.

"What did you do?" the King asked, voice quiet.

"I let the horse kick him off. The blow struck him square in the chest, sending him tumbling across the dirt. When I turned back, he was gone. He fled into the shadows from whence he came."

The hall remained eerily still, the weight of Edric's tale pressing upon them all.

Thalia's heart pounded. Something was stirring beyond their borders. Something dark.

And it had only just begun.