"Are you going to school today?"
"I go to school every day." I looked up from tying my shoes and saw my mom observing the mud and leaves. "Love you." I kissed her cheek, grabbed my herb bag, and rushed out the door. It was foggy again in the town of Raven's Peak. The dark stone that lined the street and the houses blurred together. A dark figure walked along the street, extinguishing lanterns and filling them with oil. I continued past the wooden signpost that led to the school and onto a row of houses, walking straight to the one at the end.
The opaque glass on the windows was dark. I knocked on the door but only heard crows in the distance. Looking through the mail slot,a few letters sat in a pile on the floor inside. Around at the back, I jiggled the window pane against the lock and pushed against the bottom left corner until it popped open. I pulled myself up to the frame and climbed inside, falling on the bed. It was hard to keep the mud on my shoes off the bed. The air was cold and stiff inside. Plants of all colors and sizes that had covered her desk were brown and dead. I lit the lantern on her nightstand. Inside the top drawer of the desk, underneath seeds, pencils, doodles, eating utensils, and dirt, my hands searched for the familiar shape of her diary. But it wasn't there. It wasn't anywhere. Not under her pillow, in the space behind her bed, or hidden in the loose floorboard where she kept her smutty drawings. Last night, the idea of finding the diary had kept me up. Now, climbing back through the window, it felt like I was paying for it twice over. Exhausted, I started towards the path to the wood.
"Stop." A scarred, croaky voice came from the shadow of the house down the street in front of me. In the dark, a black figure in a feathered cloak and a raven mask leaned against the wall. Faint white light reflected off the knitting needles in their hands. They crossed and weaved together,
knitting a long red scarf. My mouth felt very dry.
"The Mariks asked me to water their plants while they're gone, they told me it would just
be a week, do you know where they've been?"
"No searching. Go to school." Their mask stayed pointed down at the needles.
"Is there anything you can tell me?" The raven said nothing. The only sound on the air was the clinking of their needles and a wagon rolling on the main road.
"Stop looking." Placing the needles and half-finished scarf in their cloak, they walked away, disappearing into the fog.
"Ew, this is the one's nasty. What'd you put in here? "
"What do you mean, it's just apple juice."
"Blech, it's got no kick."
"Well what do you like to drink?"
"Do you have any leaves of Necrothorn?"
"No, that shit is poison! Doesn't it stop your heart?"
"Only if you use too much, it's actually kinda nice."
The moonlight filtered in through my window. I couldn't tell what time it was, but it had to be early. Two or three in the morning. I turned onto my back and looked up at the ceiling. A fae herb called Spiritum sat in my mortar next to the tea on my nightstand. It gave me dreams about Lia, but no matter how much I increased the dose they were always over too soon. I grabbed the lantern on my nightstand and stepped across the floorboards. The fourth and seventh from the front door always creaked. Putting my shoes and overcoat on, I stepped outside.
The houses and lanterns lining the street cast long shadows. My heart beat fast thinking about running into that raven again. I listened intently for the sound of needles faintly clinking in the dark. Finally, a dirt path shone in the light of my lantern. Not far away, tall trees blocked the
moonlight. I stopped at the gate in front of me. In the cracks of a stone pillar, one of the flowers I recognized from Lia's desk was growing. Beads in the thick stem glowed faintly, and the base of the petals had a soft red light that shone against the white tips.
"Pretty." Terrified by the raven's voice, I yelped and the lantern flew out of my hands and into the air, shattering on the ground.
"Come." They turned away, back down the road towards my house.
We walked in silence as the sky turned purple and the sun began to peak out beyond the horizon. The whole way home, I held what was left of the shattered lantern, walking quietly behind them. Until softly, they croaked.
"Lia is dead." I stopped. The raven turned to face me.
"Did she have The Hunger?"
"Yes."
"Did she hurt anyone?" The raven paused for a minute.
"No. She took Mortium." It felt like all the fatigue over the past few weeks hit me all at once and I collapsed on the stone. The raven carried me on their back the rest of the way home. I expected them to be much larger, but they seemed shorter than me and thin. Their back was muscular and warm, I felt so sleepy. "Done searching?" They croaked.
"Yes... no more." The raven sat me on our porch like a sack of flour.
"Good. Small punishment." Taking the pinky and ring finger on my left
hand, they pushed with immense pressure until the bones snapped. I cried out and the limp fingers started to turn red and swell.
"Farewell." Before I could process what had happened, they were gone.
My cloak dragged on the crimson glass woven into the black stone flooring. The stain-glass window panes depicted black ravens and filtered in red light. I didn't mind this room, even though it was cold and dark.
"Yo, Raven Aila! How did it roll?" The same voice as mine croaked. Father looked up from his writing.
"Woods, killed three."
"Voice still hurting?"
"No."
"Haha you're a bad liar! Tough cookie though, most of us don't talk for the first year. Must be painful. Didja find Son Adus?" I pulled a milky white raven mask, misshapen and bloody, from the satchel across my chest and handed it to Elder.
"That's a shame, he was a good guitar player. I see you will have a harder time knitting as well." I felt the space on my left hand where I was now missing the last two fingers.
"Maybe."
"Slick work. Got a couple more Hunger cases. Sleep easy." I walked down the hall to my room and pulled a small notebook from my cloak, setting it on the stack of journals beside my bed. I laid for a long time, staring up at the ceiling. Eventually, I gave up on sleep and pulled the diary from the pile. A flower with red and white petals was glued to the inside of the cover.
by zombi