The candle's light flickered as Thalia sat upright in bed, her breath still unsteady from the raven's words. She stared at the creature, its dark feathers glistening under the dim glow. Its black eyes, bottomless and unreadable, held her gaze with an unnatural stillness.
"What...what are you?" Thalia finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The raven tilted its head, observing her with eerie intelligence. "I am Anisda."
Thalia swallowed, her fingers gripping the bedsheets. "Anisda? A bird with a name?" She let out a nervous chuckle, shaking her head as though trying to wake herself from a dream. "How do you speak? This is some trick, some sorcery."
"You know my name, yet I already knew yours, Thalia Drale." Anisda flapped its wings slightly, shifting its position atop her bed. "Daughter of Derek Drale, heir to Yainna."
A shiver ran through her spine. "How do you know my name?"
"Because you called me."
Thalia frowned. "I did no such thing. I cannot speak the tongue of ravens, nor did I summon any creature of the night."
Anisda let out a noise—something between a croak and a chuckle. "And yet you did. You whispered the words, did you not? 'Lic Ala Gudze, Fitzgra Unempra.'"
She stiffened at the familiar words. She had spoken them in the quiet of her chambers, unknowingly, as she drifted into slumber. But she had only been reading, repeating what was written in her great-grandfather's book. It had meant nothing to her. "It was in the book. Just words from an old tale. It is no spell."
The raven clicked its beak. "A summoning. To call upon ye who can hear all things." The room felt colder, the shadows deeper, as Anisda continued. "Your grandfather, King Alaric, knew of the power within the Welch Lands. He was a seeker, as you are. But his journey was incomplete."
Thalia stared at him. "Incomplete? What do you mean?"
"He turned back when the true path revealed itself. But you..." The raven's head tilted again. "You are different. You have already begun to walk the path."
"I have done no such thing," Thalia snapped, though even as she said it, she felt the weight of her own curiosity pressing upon her chest. "Magic is not real. Yainna has destroyed all witches, all those who dabbled in the unnatural. If the Welch Lands held any such power, my father's court would have long since spoken of it."
Anisda gave a slow, deliberate nod. "And yet they whisper of you, do they not? The girl kissed by fire."
Thalia's heart nearly stopped. Her breath hitched as the words echoed in her mind. It was something she had heard before, in murmured voices when she passed through the halls of the castle. A phrase spoken by servants when they thought she could not hear, a name given to her for the color of her hair—the cursed inheritance from her mother.
"Do not call me that," she said through clenched teeth.
"But it is what you are. The fire runs through your veins. You are more than just the daughter of Derek Drale. More than just the heir to Yainna."
A sharp knock at the door sent a jolt through her body. Her head snapped toward the entrance, her pulse racing. Anisda remained still, watching. The door creaked open, revealing a young servant girl wrapped in a night cloak.
"My lady?" the girl asked hesitantly. "I heard voices. Are you well?"
Thalia swallowed hard, casting a quick glance at her bed—but the raven was gone. No feathers, no trace of its presence remained. It had disappeared into nothingness.
The girl stepped forward slightly. "Were you speaking to someone?"
Thalia forced a casual smile, though her heart still pounded. "Only to myself. Could not sleep, so I spoke aloud. I suppose I was repeating passages from a book."
The servant seemed uncertain but nodded. "Shall I bring you something to help you rest?"
"No," Thalia said quickly, shaking her head. "That will not be necessary. You may go."
The girl hesitated a moment longer before curtsying and stepping out, closing the door behind her. Silence filled the chamber once more.
Thalia exhaled slowly, letting herself fall back onto her bed. Her fingers clenched the sheets as she stared at the ceiling, her mind whirling.
Had it all been real? Had she truly spoken with a raven that could speak as men do? Or had it all been the makings of a restless mind, influenced by the strange tales in her grandfather's book?
Her gaze shifted to her bedside, where something glinted faintly in the candlelight. A small, black pendant lay atop the covers—a delicate piece of metal shaped like an eye.
She hesitated before picking it up. The metal was cool in her hands, unnervingly so. Anisda had vanished, but he had left this behind. A mark, a sign.
She swallowed.
Thalia lifted the pendant and, without a second thought, looped a thin cord through it to make a necklace. She fastened it around her neck, the metal resting against her skin.