The Swan Maiden
by Eolas Pellor
Haræm bent down and plucked the feather from the snow. Even in starlight, it was hard to miss a raven feather, black against the luminous white that blanketed Gwälen’s island. The tip of the quill was driven into the drift, and the vane stood upright from the glistening powder. As if all other things had faded from sight, Haræm’s eye was drawn to it.
Ravens do not moult under the Wolf Moon, which had not yet ended. There had been no struggle in the boughs of the apple tree to knock the pinion loose; snow clung […]