CHAPTER 14 - Of Ravens

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Author's note: Dedicated to the one, who weirdly loves ravens, fantasizes about graveyards like the villain in her own mind-blowing book. But also, because this chapter has a brand-new POV character, whom she adores more than anyone.

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Dylan stood silent and patient, with head bowed and hands clasped behind his back.

On one of the upper storeys of the Council mansion, wherein he had slithered back in—ironically with the use of his Fire-Water Magic, the thing which had him termed as a criminal—he struggled to slow his raging heart, frequently glancing ahead.

After the event down in the council room, where the Eclipses had almost shown a violent side, it was quite obvious what was about to come-

A loud croaky squawk reverberated in the silence of the chamber. Dylan flinched, caught off-guard.

"It went well, I presume," the wizened voice spoke.

Dylan gave a slight shrug, "Almost."

"Hmmm."

The afternoon sun shone behind a large window, where Grandfather stood. Since his face was a silhouette against the brightness, Dylan had to squint his eyes, frequenting glances at the old man, trying to gauge his temperament. Another squawk and Dylan fisted his palms. He never liked that sound.

The ravens got on his nerves.

Grandfather's crisp cloak skimmed after him, the cane in his hand tapping rhythmically against the floor as he moved from the window and made his way towards a rocking armchair near the mantelpiece lined all across the golden walls. He groaned when his hunched back rested against the plush seat and sighed aloud.

The small raven cradled in his arms, croaked again and Grandfather petted its head.

"Grandfather-" Dylan began.

"Dylan, I reckon you must not know what a group of ravens is termed?"

Surprised, he swallowed hard, "N-No, Grandfather."

"Unkindness."

Dylan's face showed his confusion. "That's... an odd term."

"Indeed." Grandfather paused to cough, "Though, ever since I was a boy, I had a very different term for them. Want to know, my dear?"

Dylan nodded.

"Misunderstood."

The silence around the noon-specked chamber was beginning to claw at his skin. "That's an even odder term, Grandfather," Dylan attempted humor, instantly regretting it. Not the damned time.

Grandfather gave a breathy chuckle, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.

Dylan stood up straighter, wondering whether the bowtie around his neck was aligned properly, whether there was dust on his boots, whether his hair was tucked neatly.

The black raven, with round black eyes, and a thick black beak gave a gentle caw this time and Grandfather brushed two loving knuckles under its chin.

He cleared his catarrh aloud. "I have a task for you and your other comrades. Not the Princess, of course."

Of course.

"Follow that Councilor Jared. You know the rest, do you not?"

Sweat trickled down Dylan's temple. "Yes, Grandfather. But I... I don't think we need to involve others. I'll do it myself with a correspondence to our base camp."

Grandfather raised his wrinkled chin, looking at him for the first time. A smile played on his chapped lips, "Quite grown, eh, boy? The Summer Lord's support truly changed you, I take it."

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