Gothicana

As she spoke to the bird in soft, soothing tones, she watched him tilt his head at her before flying to the wall and pecking at the crumbs she’d left. He looked up, cawed again, and began to eat. Another crow flew in, hopping on the wall beside the first, and gobbled up the biscuit.

Corvina crumbled another in her hand and put it on the wall as another crow, the one she recognized from the lake with his slightly bent beak, flapped his wings at her and ate.

“What place was this?” she mused out loud, crushing the last of the biscuits in her hands and giving it to the birds, one of whom took a large piece between his beak and flew away, probably to his nest for the little ones.

Brushing her hands off, she turned back to take in the ruins. They were older than old. They looked ancient. Her eyes swept over the area, going to the graves on the right, and a pile of junk she could see beside it. Intrigued, she crossed over to it, the sky grey overhead, the soil soft beneath her feet, tendrils of overgrown grass brushing against her ankles along with a low layer of mist. The grass got longer the closer she got to the graves.

Corvina looked around at the stones, counting as the wind caressed her hair.

One, two, three, four... fifteen.

Fifteen unmarked graves.    

Did the school know about them? Had they been the ones to put them there? And if so, then why were they unmarked? Unless they were the students from the legend. Could they be? Fifteen of them?

Mulling over the questions assaulting her mind, she crossed the small graveyard to the other side, her eyes on the pile of what looked like broken furniture and debris in one pile, intensely damaged by the elements.

One singular item beside the pile arrested her attention, the only thing covered up in the junk. Corvina touched the cover, feeling the solid mass underneath her palm covered with a dark tarp that was completely out of place with the ancient feel of the area. The tarp was new, which meant it was recent.

Biting her lip in a moment of hesitation, Corvina inched forward and extended her hand to the side, taking a hold of the tarpaulin, and tugged it upwards to uncover whatever it was protecting. Little by little, it came up, exposing dark wooden legs at first, then the base, and finally the body of what looked to be an old, damaged piano.

It was a piano.

And there was only one person she knew who would care enough to cover a piano. It meant he’d been to this place, to this graveyard and these ruins. He knew of these graves.

Corvina inhaled deeply, trying to ascertain what his role was in all of this. One of the girls he’d been with had disappeared, another had killed herself, and he knew of these graves. Could he be responsible for them? Could he truly know what the hell was going on? The thought sent goosebumps over her skin.

Swallowing, Corvina threw the tarp over the piano again and adjusted it the exact way it had been. It was time to head back.

She headed towards the castle, taking the same route she’d taken, thinking about everything she’d uncovered since coming to Verenmore. She was halfway up the incline when she felt a presence other than her own.

Pausing, she turned, looking around, trying to place where the eyes were, but found nothing. For once, she knew it wasn’t her imagination. The hair on the back of her neck was prickling with awareness, and even as she began her ascent, she couldn’t shake off the sensation of someone watching her, no matter how many times she turned to check and found nobody.

Exiting the woods, she marched straight to the Academic Wing with her bag, intending to return some books to the library.

Verenmore had a giant, and she meant giant, library down in the dungeon. She’d finally gone to it a few days ago, borrowing two books for her economics assignment, and spent the entire day cooped up there. 

While studying interested her well enough, she wondered sometimes what exactly she was doing at a university in the first place. She’d always wanted to be in a school environment with people but she had never been very ambitious about getting a degree or getting a job. It was a new start, a new chapter for her, but some days, she wondered if she wasn’t there only escaping for a while before she had to return to the life she had known if this wasn’t simply a bridge between her past and her future.

Her passion, her satisfaction, had always been in the simple things – reading, making candles and incense, finding crystals, doing readings, being one with nature. But it had become monotonous in her old town. She wondered if it would feel the same if she began somewhere else, somewhere new. However, it was because of her mother that she was there in the first place.

Her mama, Celeste Clemm, had been in college when she’d met her father and gotten pregnant. She’d been given a choice by her parents – to abort the baby and finish her studies, or have the baby and be cut off. Her mother had chosen her, left everything and everyone behind with her father, and made a life for them. And then, within a year, her father had killed himself. Corvina didn’t know what he looked like. Her mama had never talked about him when she did talk. On days she had decided to talk, Corvina had been happy enough to chat about whatever made her happy. Her mama had loved her but had slowly become... different. Corvina was there for her because she had wanted something better for her.   

It was a sobering reminder, one that steeled her spine. She entered the gardens in front of the Academic Wing, or what they called the back lawns, and saw a few students already milling around before classes began. A few faces from her classes she recognized nodded at her, and she reciprocated in kind as she made her way to the underground library.

“Hey, freaky eyes!” Roy’s loud voice called out from behind her amidst the following giggles.

She decided to ignore her and her clique of girls, but Roy had other ideas.

“I heard you’re practicing black magic now.”

What the what?

Corvina turned around, frowning at Roy, who sat on one of the ledges between the lawn and the corridor, wearing jeans tucked in black boots and a light top, playing with a strand of her su

“Et tu, Roy?” Corvina clicked her tongue. “I had better hopes from you than to fall for stereotypes because going by them you’d be nothing but a stupid blonde bimbo.” She couldn’t believe she’d actually said that in front of a bunch of people.

Roy huffed, her light eyes taking Corvina in from head to toe. “Well, I’m just telling you what the rumor mill is churning. You’ve been doing animal sacrifices and giving blowjobs in the woods, apparently.”

Corvina felt a laugh bubble out of her. “So wait, am I going to the woods to be witchy or slutty? I’m confused.”

She saw Roy’s lips tip upward before she controlled them. “Just letting you know.”

Corvina studied the girl for a long moment, understanding dawning upon her. She was watching out for her in her own brash way.

“I appreciate that,” she told the other girl sincerely. “But anything I do or don’t do privately is strictly my business.”

With that, she turned and walked down to the library. Libraries had been her solace throughout her life, her most favorite place. It was the smell that greeted her first and foremost – the beloved smell of old paper, browned books, and musty library. It was a distinctive, comforting smell.