Animrco · Original

For three heartbeats, he was the raven.

“There,” one man shouted, pointing.

“You’re a frayer,” the headman said, not as an accusation but as a fact. “The Temple will pay gold for your head.” animrco

He did not tell them he had already frayed into the blightwolf’s pack.

“Animrco,” whispered the blacksmith’s wife. The word spread like frost. For three heartbeats, he was the raven

He became good. Too good.

The headman laughed. “You’d fray into what? A ghost?” “The Temple will pay gold for your head

It happened first when he was seven, chasing a lost goat into the thorn-woods. Exhausted and lost, Kaelen had lain down beneath an old ironwood tree, and a raven had landed on his chest. Not on him— in him. The bird’s black gaze slid behind his eyes like a key turning a lock.