Original illustrations by Ashley Scarlet
“Mädchen” by Ashley Scarlet of Scarlet Illustrations, © Shawna L Bernard
Excerpt from "Rabenschwarz",
appearing in Firbolg Publishing's
Enter at Your Own Risk: The End is the Beginning
Keeeock.
The raven watched them come into the cottage, first with one eye, then the other. He picked at the meat Elsa had placed in his cage, but did not swallow any of it.
“Our Fundevogel is getting bigger,” Opa said, opening the door to the cage. He eyed the bird cautiously, and pulled his hand back as though he suddenly thought better of it. Instead he sat down and patted his lap. Mädchen crawled into it. “Child, do you remember the story you told me about the ravens and the children?”
“Yes, Opa. That was Fundevogel’s story.” The old man looked concerned, the skin above his brows meeting in waves of wrinkles.
“Did the little foundling-bird have anything to do with what happened in the village?”
The girl giggled and touched the old man’s nose with her own. “That’s silly, Opa. How would he do that from his cage?”
The raven watched them come into the cottage, first with one eye, then the other. He picked at the meat Elsa had placed in his cage, but did not swallow any of it.
“Our Fundevogel is getting bigger,” Opa said, opening the door to the cage. He eyed the bird cautiously, and pulled his hand back as though he suddenly thought better of it. Instead he sat down and patted his lap. Mädchen crawled into it. “Child, do you remember the story you told me about the ravens and the children?”
“Yes, Opa. That was Fundevogel’s story.” The old man looked concerned, the skin above his brows meeting in waves of wrinkles.
“Did the little foundling-bird have anything to do with what happened in the village?”
The girl giggled and touched the old man’s nose with her own. “That’s silly, Opa. How would he do that from his cage?”
***
The old man dreamt again that night. The doors to a tall,
stone cathedral opened inwards and he walked through them, a strong burst of
air slapping his back as the heavy doors closed behind him. He was forced to
his knees by two unseen ushers, and when he looked up, found himself looking
upon a throne.
On the throne sat a king with massive black wings and a raven’s head. He wore an ornate crown adorned with eyes in place of gems. The halls of the cathedral began to shudder, and a deep rumble rolled through his bones. The deafening claps of thunder gave way to the desperate, high pitched wails of babies, and the old man grabbed at his ears. But when he pulled them away, he held two beating hearts in his hands.
All at once, the raven king opened his mouth and let loose a guttural shriek so fierce and powerful that the skin on the old man’s face burned with the heat of the king’s rage. But the voice sounded partly human, as well...
Like that of a little girl.
On the throne sat a king with massive black wings and a raven’s head. He wore an ornate crown adorned with eyes in place of gems. The halls of the cathedral began to shudder, and a deep rumble rolled through his bones. The deafening claps of thunder gave way to the desperate, high pitched wails of babies, and the old man grabbed at his ears. But when he pulled them away, he held two beating hearts in his hands.
All at once, the raven king opened his mouth and let loose a guttural shriek so fierce and powerful that the skin on the old man’s face burned with the heat of the king’s rage. But the voice sounded partly human, as well...
Like that of a little girl.
***
He sat up in bed with a start and felt to make sure his ears were his own.
Trokk.
The bird stood on the window sill, glaring at the old man — first with one eye, then the other. He rapped on the window with his thick beak, and the man could see that he had grown much larger since the day before.
“He wanted to watch you sleep, Opa,” Mädchen said from the doorway. “Were you having a bad dream?” She sat on the edge of his bed and turned to look at him in a manner that resembled the bird.
“Yes, little one,” Opa said. “And I want to ask you something. Do you know how our Fundevogel is getting bigger if he’s not eating what Elsa puts in his cage?” He clasped her hand. “Hmm?”
The girl shrugged. “No, Opa. Do you?”
Trokk.
The bird stood on the window sill, glaring at the old man — first with one eye, then the other. He rapped on the window with his thick beak, and the man could see that he had grown much larger since the day before.
“He wanted to watch you sleep, Opa,” Mädchen said from the doorway. “Were you having a bad dream?” She sat on the edge of his bed and turned to look at him in a manner that resembled the bird.
“Yes, little one,” Opa said. “And I want to ask you something. Do you know how our Fundevogel is getting bigger if he’s not eating what Elsa puts in his cage?” He clasped her hand. “Hmm?”
The girl shrugged. “No, Opa. Do you?”
"Fundevogel" by Ashley Scarlet of Scarlet Illustrations, © Shawna L Bernard
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