Serena and Leif kept searching for Noel’s place. They asked a few pedestrians along the way, some familiar faces, to make sure they were heading the right way.

  Leif forced himself a smile. “If it’s true that they’re not actually brothers… then it’s good, isn’t it?”

  Serena kept her eyes on the road, tugging her hood down slightly. “Why is that?”

  “It means they’re not actually Rohans… at least, two of them wouldn’t be,” Leif said.

  Serena didn’t answer right away, her mind fixed on reaching the house. Then she shook her head, faintly. “I don’t know, but we have to know the truth.”

  They kept a hurried pace until they reached the alleyway leading to Noel’s home. It was unassuming, no different from any they’d already passed through. Nothing about it hinted that a secret lay hidden behind its closed doors.

  Leif stopped a child and asked if he knew where Noel lived, and the boy gladly led them straight to the door. He gave the boy an apple as thanks, and the child trotted off. Serena and Leif hesitated before knocking. But just as they were about to, they caught voices from the other side. Low and muffled, yet clear enough to make out.

  “The boss wants to meet us where?” Noel asked.

  “The warehouse, in the eastern district,” Jules answered.

  “Okay, but shouldn’t we wait for Marc?” Noel asked again.

  “He said meet him there by noon, so—” Jules responded, but he was cut off by a knock on the door.

  “Noel, Jules, can we come in?” Leif called.

  There was a brief pause. Then slow footsteps approached the door. It opened gently, and Noel greeted them, his eyes immediately snapping to Serena. “Nice to see you… both… today,” he said. “How… did you find our house?”

  Leif shrugged. “You’re well-known around here. Remember?”

  “Oh. Right.” Noel rubbed the back of his head. “You, uh… want to come in?”

  The two Alvarynn stepped inside. Jules was there, adjusting his glasses. “Hello!”

  The tension was subtle, but Serena felt it anyway—Noel and Jules’ eyes darting to each other a second too often.

  “Are we interrupting you?” Leif asked.

  “Oh, no.” Noel waved a hand quickly. “We were just talking about work… later today.”

  They talked about mundane things for a while. The town, the people, the way everyone seemed to know everyone. Serena brought up Laurent again, but just like before, neither Noel nor Jules had any idea who she meant. It was after that dead end that Serena tried another name.

  “Are you familiar with Aldana?”

  Noel and Jules went still. Their smiles faded. Their lips parted as if to speak, then failed. Sweat began to form at their temples. They exchanged a long look before turning back to Serena and Leif.

  “How—how did you know that name?” Noel asked quietly.

  “We heard about it… somewhere, on our way here,” Leif carefully said. “And—”

  “The image on your seal,” Serena added. “It matches Aldana’s flag.”

  Jules stood and slowly made his way to the kitchen, feigning thirst. There, he opened a drawer and rummaged with his back turned, his breathing turning ragged

  “Only in gossip,” Noel said quickly. “Old people talk about it here sometimes. Some state where Aurelith is now.”

  Then he jerked, as if he’d spotted something crawling between them. Both Alvarynns’ attention snapped to the floor fast. Noel turned his head just enough to glance at Jules. Jules glanced back.

  Noel gave the smallest shake of his head.

  Jules nodded once.

  Noel cleared his throat and gestured toward the door. “Actually, can you walk with me outside for a bit? Jules needs a moment to prepare our tools for the trip.”

  Serena and Leif exchanged a look, but they agreed. Noel guided them out, and before stepping into the alley, he gave Jules one last look. The latter slid something beneath his coat.

  Outside, as they walked, Serena shared what she knew of Aldana, bits of tale Aristide had told her. Noel stayed a step ahead, listening. He kept his back to them; his usual boyish fa?ade was gone. They wandered into a different alleyway, one that was less crowded than the others. In fact, there was no one else there but the three of them. When Serena pressed him again, Noel gave the same answer as before. “Nothing,” he said. “I’m not into history.”

  “Are you lying to us now,” Serena asked, “like how you lied about the three of you being brothers?”

  Noel stopped so abruptly Leif nearly bumped into him. For a moment, he stood motionless. Then he turned to face them. “Who told you?”

  “We asked around,” Leif said. “On the way to your house. People said you weren’t brothers with Marc and Jules.”

  “Please, Noel,” Serena said, softer now. “We just want the truth. Are you… is any of you a Rohan?”

  Noel’s gaze dropped. He turned slightly, staring at a worn-out building beside them. He inhaled slowly, steadying himself. “It’s true,” he said at last. “We’re not brothers. The seal… it’s not ours either. Well. Not exactly.”

  He hesitated for a moment, his eyes unable to meet theirs. “It belonged to someone important. The man who took us in.”

  Even with the truth spoken aloud, Serena didn’t feel relieved. If anything, it only raised more questions. “Why do you have to lie about your identities?” she asked.

  “We thought we’d never see you again after Edmund offered to help us,” Noel said, talking more than he normally did. “You were strangers and… we didn’t think it would be this big of a deal.”

  He resumed walking, and as he did, he offered pieces of the truth, carefully measured. Generations ago, his family, along with many others, had owned land. Not vast estates, but enough to live decently. Then the Aureliens came and seized them.

  “They thought switching sides to the Alliance would earn them approval,” he continued. “It didn’t. People resented them more. The ruling Aurelien at the time then seized properties from families like ours and used them to bribe the nobles and councilmen into supporting his self-coronation.”

  He went on, tracing the familiar shape of the story—the Silent Decades ravaging the economy, the nobles fleeing with their wealth and abandoning the state. The lands they’d been given lay empty now, overtaken by dense growth, dotted with crumbling mansions, factories, wineries… industries left to rot. Meanwhile, the families those lands had been taken from struggled and starved. Only a few descendants remained, Noel was among of them.

  “I’m sorry,” Serena whispered. “I didn’t know.”

  “It’s fine,” Noel said. “No need to apologize. I’m the one who should be apologizing… for lying.”

  “Where’s the man who took you in?” Leif asked.

  Noel gave the answer without hesitation. “He’s dead, and he asked us not to reveal anything about himself, or the seal. To be honest, we don’t even know his true name. My best guess is his family’s land was seized too.”

  Before either Alvarynn could press for more, Noel stopped walking. The three now stood near the alleyway’s end. Noel turned to finally face them, and for once, he asked the question. “What else do you know about Aldana?”

  “Same as you,” Leif said. “It used to be a state House Rohan ruled. That’s about it.”

  “Nothing more?” Noel asked.

  Serena and Leif shook their heads. Noel stared at them silently, then his gaze lowered. “Please go,” he said.

  “We can’t—” Noel swallowed, his voice tightening. “We can’t see each other again anymore.”

  “But… why?” Serena asked, confused.

  Noel didn’t explain. He only repeated himself, eyes refusing to lift. “Please. Just go.”

  Leif leaned close to Serena, voice low. “I think we should leave him be. We’ve… troubled him enough.”

  Serena nodded and addressed Noel, though he still couldn’t meet her gaze. “Thank you, Noel. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

  They waited, just in case he’d say anything else. He didn’t.

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  They turned and walked away. Noel remained where he was, unmoving. Only after Serena and Leif had disappeared down the alley did a door open, just behind where Serena and Leif had stood. Jules stepped out, knife in hand.

  “I—” Jules murmured, “I couldn’t do it.”

  Noel gave a weak nod. “I know,” he said. “I won’t be able to either.”

  Jules slid the knife back beneath his coat. He walked up beside Noel and gestured forward. “Let’s go. The boss is waiting.”

  Noel drew a deep breath, then he and Jules walked on without looking back.

  Serena and Leif made their way back to the inn. To their surprise, Edmund was there. He’d decided to fetch medicine first and returned, only to find Serena gone. Filandra told him she’d heard them leave but didn’t know where they’d gone.

  “Where did you go?” the prince demanded. “You should be resting!”

  She wanted to tell Edmund everything. The seal, Noel’s truth, the way Aldana suddenly seemed to sit at the center of it all. But she knew the prince well enough. The moment she mentioned the royal family or seized lands, he’d press. He’d get upset, not just because of the things she had learned. Edmund would know she had been keeping secrets from him.

  “I just… um… we just went out for a walk,” she said. “I thought… I might feel better.”

  “Right!” Leif jumped in. “We thought the cool air might help ease her… dizziness.”

  Edmund cupped his chin and narrowed his eyes. He leaned closer to Serena. “And how are you feeling now?”

  Serena’s eyes darted side to side, landing on anything except Edmund. She fidgeted with her fingers, cheeks warming.

  Leif stood perfectly still, lips pressed thin, glancing at them with the kind of side-eye that said, I can’t believe we’re doing this.

  Edmund didn’t move until Serena answered.

  “Much… better,” she said at last.

  Edmund studied her for a moment longer. Then, finally, his expression softened. “I’m glad to hear that. But still, take this medicine. We’re leaving tomorrow, so it’s best you’re well before we move.”

  He handed her a vial, reminded her again to rest, and stepped out. Once he was gone, Leif finally exhaled. “Why did you lie to him again?” he asked.

  Serena sat on her bed and placed the medicine on the table. “I didn’t want to worry him… or give him trouble.’

  Leif’s shoulders slumped. “He does overthink when it comes to his family’s… history.”

  “Maybe someday,” Serena murmured, “I can tell him.”

  Later that day, Noel and Jules reached the warehouse.

  From the outside, it looked like nothing. Just an old, dilapidated structure. No one would glance twice. But the two of them knew better. Jules pushed the door open, and they stepped inside, brushing away cobwebs that clung to their shoulders. At the far end of the warehouse was another door.

  Inside waited a smaller room filled with dusty wares. Hanging on the wall to their left was a painting: a purple iris on a green backdrop. Jules lifted the frame and pressed a section of the wall behind it. Something clicked.

  A wooden panel slid open. Jules pressed something in it, pushed it back in place, and the floor at the center of the room swung open, revealing stairs leading down. Jules set the painting back and descended with Noel. Halfway down, Jules pressed a stone embedded in the wall. The door above them shut.

  Below was well-lit, the walls lined with crystals that gave off a faint yellow glow. They walked until they reached a short hallway and another door. They knocked and gave their names. A man opened the door, and inside was a lone table, a small wooden box resting on top, and a chair tucked to one side. Lit candles stood on either side, and a worn-down banner hung on the wall, bearing the seal’s image.

  Their boss was standing in front of it, smoking a cigar. He was wearing his usual maroon coat over brown doublet.

  Noel and Jules greeted him, but the boss didn’t bother looking up. “So,” he said, his expression flat, “I heard you’ve got the seal back.”

  Jules forced a cheer. “We surely did! You won’t believe what we went through to get it back.”

  “I can only imagine,” the boss replied.

  “Marc said he’d bring it… to you,” Noel said, hesitating. “Did he… hasn’t he brought it—”

  A knock cut him off. The man near the door opened it, and men clad head to toe in black armor filed in, lining up behind Noel and Jules.

  “The Syndicate?” Jules muttered. “What are they—”

  Another door opened, this time on the other side, at the far-right corner of the room. Men came out, pushing a large box draped in black cloth into the center of the room. Noel and Jules stared, confusion tightening into dread. Their boss stayed silent, eyes lowered to his cigar.

  Then another figure emerged from the same doorway, and Noel and Jules’ breath caught. The man was tall. The plates on his steel armor were damaged, cracked, and dented. His black cape was torn, and the similarly dark, long plume on his helmet swaying faintly as he walked. Two scabbards rested at either side of his waist. Strips of torn fabric hung from him like remnants of an older uniform. His helmet stayed down, fully covering his face. Only two blue eyes glowed through the visor.

  The two boys began to sweat as he approached. Their boss stepped aside, giving him the center without a word.

  Noel’s lips trembled. “Whi—White Raven, sir… what are you… why are you here?”

  Jules swallowed hard. “We—were you… listening… the entire time?”

  The White Raven didn’t move. Those glowing eyes stayed fixed on them. Then he spoke, voice muffled, low, and rasping. “How did you retrieve my seal?”

  Noel and Jules’ breathing turned ragged. Sweat ran down their temples as they backed up a step. “Y-you… you knew… we lost your—” Noel managed.

  “The Syndicate informed me,” the White Raven said, “that a group of lowly bandits had contacted them for an exchange.”

  The boss finally spoke, still staring at his cigar. “The leader asked them to massacre the lot and turned into monsters using the plague.”

  “Wha—why?” Jules blurted. “If you already knew… why did you—”

  The White Raven’s voice didn’t change. “Let you struggle to retrieve it? Because I wanted you to. As punishment for your ineptitude.”

  Noel forced a shaky smile. “Th-then… it’s fine, right, sir? We— you’ve got your seal back, and—”

  “Who helped you retrieve it?” the White Raven cut in. “Who laid eyes on my seal?”

  Noel and Jules couldn’t answer. Not only from fear, but because they knew what would happen if they did… to Serena, Leif, Edward.

  The White Raven stepped closer. “Who helped you?” he repeated.

  Noel shook his head hard. “N-no one. We fought through the monsters and… and… got it ourselves.”

  “Right,” Jules echoed too quickly. “We came armed and ready... of course.”

  The White Raven studied them for a moment, then he lifted one hand. The men near the box yanked away the cloth, revealing a cage. Inside, a man lay crumpled, bruised, and unmoving. One of the soldiers banged the bars. Slowly, he stirred and pushed himself upright.

  In the dim glow, Noel’s stomach dropped. “Marc?”

  He took a closer look, and realized Marc wasn’t beaten like he initially thought. Purple lines ran across his arms and neck like veins painted from the inside out. His left shoulder bulged strangely, as though something beneath the skin was trying to break free. Something jutted from the side of his head like a short horn.

  When Marc opened his eyes, his irises were pure black. He looked around, trembling. Then he saw Noel and Jules, grabbed the bars, and began pleading. But the voice that came out of him didn’t sound like Marc. It was too deep, wet, and sounded like he was struggling to breath. “Noel… Jules…” he cried. “Please… help me.”

  Noel and Jules stumbled back.

  “Wha—what happened to him?” Noel whispered, his voice shaking.

  “Looks like his body’s resisting the plague more than a regular undead,” a boy said behind them.

  Noel and Jules turned. The boy walked in, and the Syndicate men shifted to give him room. His ginger hair was a mess. He wore the same black cape and boots as the day they’d met him.

  “K-Kleitos?” Noel stammered.

  “Hi, you both!” Kleitos said, cheerful as ever.

  “What are you doing here?” Noel demanded.

  Kleitos stood in front of the Syndicate men, his grin wide. “Your leader asked for me. So, here I am.”

  “No—no, that’s not what I meant,” Noel said. “Why are you here?”

  Kleitos tilted his head, expression unchanged. “I just answered your question.”

  “He is an Overseer among the Syndicate’s ranks,” the White Raven said.

  “A what?!” Jules exclaimed.

  Kleitos walked past them, greeted the White Raven with a wave and a simple “hello” like they were old colleagues, then went straight to Marc’s cage. “You go on ahead and scold your men,” he said casually, “while I check this guy.”

  The White Raven glanced at him once, then turned back to Noel and Jules. “Now, answer,” he said. “Kleitos told me you received help in retrieving my seal.”

  When they still refused to speak, he stepped closer. “Do not lie. The man who led you there works for him.”

  There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Noel and Jules finally told him everything—how they’d met Edward and his men, how his group helped retrieve the seal, and how Noel had shown it to Serena. When Noel described them, specifically, Edward’s appearance and power, the White Raven seized him by the collar and lifted him off the ground.

  “FOOL!” the White Raven snarled. “Merchants?! Mercenaries?! You showed the Prince of Aurelith’s companion my seal?!”

  “Told you you’d get angry when you hear it,” Kleitos muttered without looking up as he pried Marc’s eyes open. Chains snapped taut around the latter’s limbs, holding him still.

  “I—I don’t know what you mean!” Noel choked. “Prince of Aurelith?!”

  “That red-haired guy,” Kleitos said. “Edward, was it? His real name is Edmund Aurelien, Crown Prince of Aurelith.”

  Noel’s breath hitched. His heart slammed against his ribs. Beside him, Jules looked like he’d been punched. The White Raven threw Noel to the floor. Syndicate men hauled Noel upright and held him and Jules fast.

  “Please, sir!” Jules begged, tears spilling freely. “We didn’t know! Please—don’t kill us!”

  One of the White Raven’s soldiers stepped forward. “Your orders, sir?”

  Their leader paused, thinking. No one spoke or made a sound, except for two. Marc, screaming as Kleitos cut his arm open with a knife, and the Overseer, humming as he worked.

  Jules cried quietly, lips trembling. Noel begged for Kleitos to stop, but his pleas were ignored.

  Finally, the White Raven spoke. “Send word to all our men in the state to cease all activities. The operation is on hold until we’re certain Aurelien has no lead on us.”

  He looked toward Kleitos. “Pass a message to the Contact and the Client. Tell them the plan is postponed.”

  “No problem,” the boy said.

  “What about the princes?” the soldier asked.

  Kleitos spoke before the leader could answer, his work finished. “This one has potential for something greater than just a walking corpse.”

  The White Raven turned to look at the cage. Inside, Marc was trembling. He didn’t speak, only looked around, like an animal searching for a gap in a trap.

  “Accelerate this one’s transformation,” the White Raven ordered. “Wait for the Aureliens to leave town, then unleash him on them once they’ve crossed the border. Make the princes’ deaths look like an attack by a vicious monster.”

  Marc backed away, shaking his head. “No… sir… please, don’t…”

  “That will render him mindless,” Kleitos said.

  “All the better for his final mission,” the White Raven replied coldly.

  Kleitos shrugged, then gestured for Marc to be taken, his men rolling the cage away, waving his hand as he strolled to the door. “Peace, you all!”

  Marc clutched the bars, eyes locked on Noel and Jules. “Please… help! Help me!”

  “Marc!” Jules cried before turning to his leader. “Sir, we’re begging you! Please don’t do this!”

  “Turn me instead!” Noel screamed, voice hoarse. “I showed them the seal! I let them help us!”

  “Take them away,” the White Raven said, ignoring both pleas. “I’ll decide what to do with them later.”

  The Syndicate handed Noel and Jules over to the White Raven’s soldiers, who dragged them toward the door at the far corner. They kept pleading, screaming Marc’s name, their voices echoing in the hallway until the sounds vanished.

  Soon, the room emptied. Only the White Raven and the boss remained. The latter set his cigar down and grabbed the box resting on the table. He opened it, revealing the White Raven’s seal inside, extending it to his leader as he spoke to him. “What if they survive again, like they did against the Draemhyr you dispatched, Master Laurent?”

  “Then we let them,” Laurent said. “And save the pleasure of spilling their blood for myself.”

  “They get to live a while longer,” the boss murmured.

  “A brief moment,” Laurent replied. “I have already waited centuries to have my revenge.”

  He grabbed the seal from the box and lowered his gaze toward it, gripping the bronze disk tight all the while.

  “Soon, Aurelien, you will pay for my father’s death, for everything that you stole from us,” he whispered, echoing his undying oath.

  “And on your grave, Aldana will rise again.”