Bound to nothingness

Change 7:"The Raven. "

By dinner, everyone in Veylcrest knew Nyla broke Karl's shadow.

Nyla spent most of her afternoon in the dormitory. The dull ache in her wrist was gone, and the dark red finger-marks Karl had left behind were already fading into faint shadows.

Emily, however, had apparently decided that the best way to handle an exhausting day was to argue with the room's decor. She was currently standing three inches from the wall mirror, glaring into the glass.

"My nose isn't crooked," Emily declared, crossing her arms.

The mirror's surface rippled slightly, a bored face showing through the silver reflection. "Your left side disagrees."

"My left side is fine," Emily said, leaning closer.

"And that ribbon makes you look desperate," the mirror added smoothly. "I merely reflect the truth."

Emily grabbed a heavy wool pillow off her bed, her face turning bright red.

Nyla reached over from her desk and caught Emily's arm. "Em, don't."

"I'm going to smash it."

"You'll have to explain a broken enchanted mirror to Professor Voss," Nyla warned, fighting a smile. "And she won't care if it insulted your ribbon."

Emily lowered the pillow with a sharp exhale, giving the glass one last glare. "You're lucky she's here."

"Genuinely," the mirror murmured, its reflection fading back into plain glass.

A sharp double-tap sounded against the windowpane.

Nyla turned in her chair. Perched on the outer stone sill was a large black raven, its dark feathers slicked down against the evening rain. It tapped its thick beak against the glass again, waiting.

Emily dropped the pillow onto her bed. "Is that yours?"

"I don't think so." Nyla crossed the rug and unlatched the heavy brass fitting.

The raven hopped inside the moment the sash slid up, fluttering its wings once before landing squarely on the corner of the writing desk. A small roll of parchment was tied securely to its left leg with a piece of dark twine.

Nyla stepped closer, her breath catching as she recognized the tight, narrow slant of the ink on the outside.

It was her father's handwriting.

She carefully untied the twine. The raven remained perfectly still, its bead-black eye fixed on the far wall.

Emily hovered near her shoulder. "Is it from home?"

Nyla nodded, unrolling the parchment.

Nyla,

I hope the journey was quiet and that you're settling into your quarters. I know Veylcrest can feel overwhelming at first, but give yourself time to adapt. There are good, reliable people within those walls,let yourself get to know them.

Stay close to Emily. Keep up with your lectures.

And remember what I asked of you before you left: stay away from the eastern wing. I know you'll be curious, but I need you to trust me on this.

I will write again when I can.

Dad.

Nyla read the third line twice, her thumb brushing over the dried black ink.

"Everything alright?" Emily asked softly.

"Fine," Nyla said, folding the note along its original creases and tucking it into her sleeve. "He just wants me to pay attention in class."

Emily shrugged. "parents."

With a soft rustle of feathers, the raven launched itself off the desk, swooping through the open window and disappearing into the rainy night before Nyla could even reach for a crumb of bread. She closed the window and pulled the latch shut.

A knock sounded at the heavy oak door.

Emily glanced over her shoulder. "If that's another bird, I'm requesting a room transfer."

Nyla pulled the door open. Lucien was standing in the corridor, balancing two thick leather-bound volumes against his chest, with Elsie standing just behind him in the hallway torchlight.

"Professor Aldren," Lucien said by way of greeting.

Nyla winced. "The historical reading?"

"The historical reading," Lucien confirmed, pushing past her into the room with an easy grin.

Emily groaned, face-planting directly into her pillow. "He's ruining what was left of my night."

"I told him we should wait until tomorrow," Elsie said, stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind them.

"And I told her that tomorrow is when responsible people panic," Lucien replied, setting the heavy books down on the small central table with a dull thud.

Emily raised her head from the mattress, pointing a finger at him. "You are deeply annoying, Marlowe."

"I've been told it's my most consistent trait."

Nyla pulled a chair out from the desk and sat down, dragging one of the volumes toward her. "What are we actually looking for?"

"The charter of the founding houses," Elsie said, taking the seat opposite her. "Aldren wants three pages on how the regional borders were split after the first Council."

They spent the next half-hour huddled around the table, the quiet room filled only with the steady scratching of quills and the rustle of turning pages. The text laid out the history of the realm's core lineages: the Vales, the Marlowes, the Kades, and the Crosses.

Nyla leaned closer to the vellum page, her eyes stopping on a single line near the bottom of the ledger.

The name Draven was mentioned only once, tucked away in an appendix footnote.

Lucien leaned over her shoulder, noticing where her quill had stopped. "Looking at the missing pieces?"

"Why are they kept separate?" Nyla asked, pointing to the short note. "Every other family has three chapters on their seat in the Council."

"Because the Dravens never sat on the Council," Elsie answered flatly, not looking up from her own notes. "Not when it was formed, and not now."

"They refused?"

"Their domain is outside Council territory," Lucien explained, leaning back in his chair. "The Dravens rule the northern reaches. The Council manages the southern estates. They've fought three border wars in two hundred years, and lost none. "

Emily looked up from her parchment. "Then why is the Crown Prince sitting in our Combat Theory class?"

"Veylcrest is neutral ground," Elsie said simply. "By treaty, the school isn't bound by Council law, and the Dravens respect the boundary. Usually."

"And besides," Lucien added with a faint dry chuckle, "if anyone tries to kick him out we'd all die."

From the wall across the room, the mirror's voice chimed in, quiet and dry. "I certainly wouldn't."

Emily turned in her chair, staring at the glass. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was enjoying the silence," the mirror replied softly before its reflection faded completely into the dark wood frame.

A sudden, brief burst of laughter broke through the tension in the room. For a few minutes, surrounded by the smell of old paper and wet wool drying near the hearth, the room felt grounded and almost normal, just four students wasting an evening over an assignment they didn't want to finish.

Nyla smiled along with them, but her fingers instinctively drifted to the folded letter tucked inside her sleeve.

Do not enter the eastern wing.

She looked toward the door, picturing the quiet, shadowy corridors beyond their room, wondering what her father knew about this place that he hadn't told her before she boarded the carriage.

Far outside the stone walls of Veylcrest, high above the cloud-covered spires, the black raven cut through the heavy night rain, heading south over the dark treeline.

Miles down the valley road, a lone horseman stood under the shelter of the pines, his cloak pulled tight against the damp cold. He raised a gloved hand into the dark, waiting in silence as the bird dropped down from the mist to land on his leather sleeve.