Chapter 1

The air in the attic was thick with the smell of dust and old paper. Requiem shoved a stack of moth-eaten blankets aside, his sneezing echoing off the rafters. Behind him, his sister Eris was meticulously going through a trunk of old journals.
"I'm telling you, it's not up here," Requiem grumbled, wiping a streak of dirt off his forehead.
"Mom said the old photo albums were in the basement. We're wasting our time."
"I'm not looking for photos," Eris said, her voice tight. She pulled out a heavy, leather-bound volume that looked far too old to be a journal. On the cover was a symbol: a circle with a castle inside and a crown above it. "I'm looking for this."
Requiem scoffed, reaching over to snatch it.
"
It's probably just a boring old ledger. Give it here."
"No! Careful, the binding is tearing!"
Eris pulled back, but Requiem had a firm grip on the book. They tugged in opposite directions, as they pulled, a loose page fluttered out, glowing with a faint, silver light. The floor beneath their sneakers didn't just creak, it groaned with a sound of a choir inhaling. "Requiem, let go!" Eris cried, her brown eyes widening.
The shadows in the corners of the attic began to stretch, turning into long, inky fingers that crawled across the floorboards. The smell of dust vanished, replaced by the sharp, metallic scent of ozone and crushed pine needles. The floor vanished.
They fell.
It wasn't a long drop, but it felt like miles. White fog swallowed them whole, muffling their screams. Eris felt a warm, golden pressure against her back, pushing her toward a bright, shimmering light. But Requiem felt a cold, jagged tug, pulling him down into a deep, darkness. Eris landed on her feet, the golden warmth that had guided her lingered on her skin like a sun bath.
Requiem, however, hit the ground hard, the cold darkness dropping him like a piece of lead.
"Requiem! Are you okay?" Eris reached out to help him up, but her hand felt like hot coal against his arm. "Don't touch me!" Requiem hissed, scrambling backward
"the... the air tastes like copper. Can't you smell that?"
"It smells like jasmine and rain," Eris said, looking around in awe.
They were in a high-walled courtyard. white stone arches draped in purple flowering vines towered above them but the beauty of this new place was ruined by a teenaged boy, probably around 15 or 16 sitting on a stone bench just a few yards away. He wore a doublet of velvet so dark it seemed to drink the sunlight, his hair was a shock of golden blonde. His eyes were the most unsettling part,
pale, piercing sky-blue that looked like they had seen centuries instead of just fifteen years. His left arm was tucked unnaturally against his chest like a broken wing, the wrist turned inward. But instead of pity, Eris felt a jolt of pure adrenaline, her heart hammered against her ribs. He didn't looked like a victim, he looked like a viper waiting for the right moment to strike.
He was struggling, unsuccessfully to buckle a leather strap on his left shoulder using only his teeth and his good hand.
"Who's there?" he demanded, his voice wasn't a roar, it a raspy and pained.
Eris stepped back. "We didn't mean... we just fell, we're lost..."
the boy's eyes, sharp and calculating despite his paleness, landed on Requiem. He ignored Eris, his piercing blue eyes locked on Requiem. He extended his good hand to Requiem, the dark velvet on his sleeve rustling, revealing a silver thread woven into the cuff of his sleeve
whose hand holds silver, whose heart holds a lie
"She looks at you like you're a monster," he said "my name is prince Roderick, or as some call me 'the monster of the city.'"
Requiem, desperate for the stinging heat of Eris's presence to stop, reached out. His fingers, trembling, brushed against Roderick's cold skin.
The connection was immediate.
A soothing, numbing chill spread through Requiem's arm, silencing the frantic clamor in his head. The copper taste in his mouth didn't vanish, it suddenly felt right, like a missing piece clicked into place.
But for Eris, the moment Requiem's hand met Roderick's, the cold, jagged tug returned, hitting her with a sickening force.
The courtyard blurred, the vibrant purple vines shriveled into a brittle ash. The clean scent of rain vanished, replaced by the choking smell of ozone and something metallic, like ancient rust.
Roderick sat on a grotesque throne made of white bone, his twisted arm how encased in a jagged black armor that pulsed with a faint, malevolent light.
At his right hand, standing like a dark sentinel, was Requiem.
his eyes were no longer warm brown, his left eye was blue and his right eye was green. He held a wickedly curved blade. Requiem's head slowly turned, his heterochromic eyes locking onto Eris's own, piercing her as if she stood right there in the vision. His lips moved, but the words were a silent scream in her mind
"you chose the light, sister. You chose the lie."
Eris gasped, a strangled cry escaped her lips as the vision shattered. She stumbled backward, clutching her chest. Her heart hammering against her ribs like a bird in a cage. The courtyard snapped back into focus, the vibrant vines, the warm stone, the oppressive smell of jasmine and rain. But now, it felt tainted, a beautiful illusion covering a terrible truth.
Requiem stood beside the prince, a strange calm settling over both of them.
"Requiem, get away from him!" Eris cried, her voice filled with horror. "I saw... i saw what he will make you do. I saw what he will make you!"
Requiem flinched, his jaw tightening. "You're doing it again," he said, his voice flat, devoid of the familiar warmth. "You're looking at me like I'm the problem. He's the only one who isn't treating me like a living fire!"
Before Eris could step forward, before she could plead or explain, the very air around them crackled.
The crackle in the air snapped like a whip. Before Eris could step towards her brother, she saw someone entering the courtyard, a tall figure filled the entryway, his presence was heavy enough to shift the balance of the room. He shared Roderick's royal lineage, but where the prince looked fragile and twisted, he was a pillar of tempered steel. He had broad shoulders, clad in a brigandine vest of reinforced leather and blackened steel studs. He had a jagged scar that cut a pale line through his left eyebrow, giving him a permanent expression of grim amusement.
He moved toward Roderick not with a cousin's warmth, but with the steady, rhythmic step of a soldier reporting to a dark commander.
"Roderick!" The newcomer barked, his hand instinctively flying to the hilt of the sword at his hip.
He took in the scene:
The injured prince, the two strangers with him.
"I'm fine, Luke," Roderick said, though his voice was a thin, pained reed. "This boy... he helped me. But the girl, she's been screaming threats."
Luke's eyes, hardened by the years of Palace politics and street fights, narrowed on Eris.
"Threats?" He stepped between them, his presence like a wall of iron. He didn't look like a villain, he looked like someone who had chosen a side and would die for it.
"You're coming with me. If the princess finds out strangers are harassing her brother, she'll have more than questions."
"Requiem, please!" Eris cried, but Luke grabbed her arm, not cruelly. But with a firm finality and began to lead her away.
Requiem didn't even look up. He was staring down at the ground, a look of drugged peace on his face.
"Go away, Eris," he muttered.
"you're the one who's always hurting."
Luke didn't throw her in a cell. Instead, he lead her to a high-ceilinged room in the palace.
"Stay here," he ordered, his voice softening just a fraction as if he saw how hard she was shaking.
"If you're lucky, Melody will be the one to talk to you. If you're unlucky, you'll have to deal with me again."
He closed the door, leaving Eris in a room filled with lacquered wooden chairs and the scent of lemon wax.
"You don't look like an assassin,"
a voice said.
Eris turned around. Two teenagers were sitting at a circular table in the corner, maps spread out all over the table and the floor.
The boy, Adam, wore a black sweat shirt with a small tear on the left shoulder, he also wore black, dust stained jeans. he had short brown hair and eyes with a scar on the side of his head, his face was perpetually curious, his fingers stained with ink. The girl, Keira, was wearing a beautiful bright green dress and a diamond necklace. She had long red hair and amber eyes.
