Angela hummed, stirring her cauldron slowly. Solembum laid at her side, tail twitching. Angela thought it was an interesting day. But then, all days were interesting in their own ways, so that wasn't saying much.

Solembum's ears twitched and he raised his head, blinking owlishly. Something had disturbed him from his nap. A sudden chill up his spine, a premonition that something would happen.

Angela felt it too and dropped her stirring spoon. "Well, that is certainly something," she hummed, getting up to fetch her dragon's knucklebones. She had a feeling she'd need the wisdom they could provide. She held the bones in her hands, chanted words of power, and scattered the bones on the floor. She gasped.

The bones had fallen in a configuration she'd never imagined she'd see. Death and life were crossed, magic was upside-down, and fate intersected with change. Beyond that, the bones were in a confused jumble, unyielding any other information. But what Angela had was plenty.

Death and life, crossed. Something that connected the two somehow was coming. A new Shade, perhaps?

Magic, upside-down. The power many had relied on would fail them in some fundamental way. Angela shivered at the ill omen.

Fate, intersected with change. Fate was being changed somehow. For good or for ill, the bones didn't say.

The confused jumble. The future, the present, and even the past were uncertain. Angela hadn't seen such a mess since Eragon's reading.

Well, that's terrifying, Solembum drawled, reading the bones for himself.

Angela hummed. An interesting day, indeed.

Queen Islanzadí turned to Blagden, who had been squawking all morning and generally disrupting court with repeated calls of "Wyrda!" The white crow, normally unflappable, had been disturbed all morning. Rude though the interruptions were, something strange must have happened to put Blagden in a tizzy.

"What ails you?" Islanzadí asked.

Blagden settled near her and opened his beak to squawk,

"The restless dead, they awake
And living laws, they do break
Power falters, words unwind
To a strange corruption blind
Beware the beggar with the gold
For the ward may fall to his hold!

Wyrda!"

The crow flew off, repeating "Fate!" in the ancient language over and over.

Islanzadí bit her lip. Blagden's verse was as confusing as ever, but it was a warning if she ever heard one.

Something was coming. Islanzadí planned on being prepared.

Welcome to my newest plot bunny! I think this will be a short piece, no more than 50,000 words. Enjoy, and review!

-HM