Acalinia Starsinger
At the cacophonous clattering of talons on a windowpane and the screech of a raven, I shot straight up in the dusty bed of my Gilnean home with wide eyes and a heartbeat so insistent that it filled the entire home. "What do you want?!" I shouted at it groggily and flopped back down on the feather-stuffed mattress, causing another plume of dust to waft up into the air. I coughed. With the window left open, the ebony bird easily squeezed his way in and landed on the spherical cap of a bed post.. he caw'd at me again to rouse me. "Yes, you little beastly thing?" Rolling over to look at him, it was clear that this was a carrier Raven. Must have been from Amariesse.. I know of no one else whom uses black birds for their bidding.
For a moment all was still as the flood of last evening's events poured over me like a relentless waxing wave. 'There was one survivor. It was not Heathcliff.' That is what Rook had told us all in the Registry; the scene was wrong, so wrong. It made my heart twist and my stomach feel too large for the body it inhabited. Amariesse shook beneath my arms, -still- trying not weep, though I shielded her face from others lest she wished to. Rook is numb. His voice as he spoke was too even, toneless. This is how he would handle loss; by shutting down completely. It was the smartest thing to do.. the safest. That building will never not be filled will sorrow from now on.. the face of Anardorei 2.0 was dreary; empathetic, is the word, and even Jahaerys offered to them use of Drakestone Keep should they come to require it.
"I don't think the Registry will ever be the same, little guy." The Raven's head cocked to the side inquisitively and he hopped in adorable fashion over to me where I quickly untied the rolled up parchment from his legs. "There.. you can go home now." The bird.. looked sad a moment, if birds even have the capacity to express such an emotion I do not know, but he did. Nevermore, was the term that came to mind, No, we never -would- be the same. Long after the bird had left, I was still sitting with the parchment clutched in a scarred palm and unblinking eyes. Right.. the letter. My breath caught as I glanced over the typeface.. This was happening. This was actually happening.