ArgotMck

My little sister's name was Rhaen Makraken. She took after father more than any of us; instead of mother's blood red hair that all of us older siblings got, her hair was father's coal black.  Unlike him, however, she was always a fragile, sickly little thing, and so she spent as much time abed as father did on the field of battle. I say her name was Rhaen, for when father died she took to a mourning she would never come out of. She'd dress all in black, and though she was quiet before, she then stopped talking altogether. The servants took to calling her Little Raven, and no one but me ever heard her voice since then. She didn't say a word