[Sera's POV]
I couldn't breathe.
The locket lay on the floor between Mordain and me, its broken chain curled like a dead snake. Inside, two identical infants stared up at nothing, frozen in time. One of them was me. The other was the boy I had to kill.
My brother.
"You're lying," I whispered. My voice sounded far away, like it belonged to someone else. "This is a test. You're testing my loyalty."
Mordain's laugh was soft and terrible. "Oh, child. I don't need to test what I already own." He stood and walked around the desk, moving like a shadow given flesh. "Your loyalty was beaten into you before you could walk. Carved into you with every scar on your body. I don't doubt your obedience."
He picked up the locket and dangled it in front of my face.
"I'm showing you this because I want you to understand the gift I'm giving you." His dead eyes bore into mine. "Most people never get to choose their destiny. But you? You get to choose which prophecy comes true."
"What prophecy?"
"Sit down, Sera. Let me tell you a story about why you and your brother were supposed to die as infants."
My legs moved on their own, lowering me back into the chair. I felt numb. Hollow. Like someone had scooped out everything inside me and left only questions.
Mordain returned to his seat, steepling his fingers. "Eighteen years ago, a prophecy emerged from the Oracle of Whisperwind: 'Twins born of star and shadow, bearing dual bloodlines of the First Mages, shall either unite the fractured realm or destroy it.' " His voice took on a mocking tone. "When shadow and light reconcile, the age of councils ends."
First Mages. I'd heard stories about them—the original magic wielders who shaped the continent thousands of years ago. But those were just myths. Legends.
"Your mother was the last living descendant of the First Mages," Mordain continued. "A bloodline everyone thought extinct. When she gave birth to twins—one touched by shadow, one touched by light—certain powerful people panicked. High Councilor Blackwood ordered the family protecting her killed. He wanted both infants dead." His smile returned. "But I had other plans."
"You... you saved us?"
"I saved myself a fortune." Mordain's tone turned business-like. "Blackwood paid me to eliminate the threat. Instead, I saw opportunity. I told him both children died, kept the girl-child for myself, and let the rebels hide the boy. You became my weapon. He became their hope. And now?" He spread his hands. "Now I get paid twice. Once for the original contract. Once for finishing the job eighteen years later."
The pieces clicked together in my mind, and I felt sick.
"You've been planning this since I was born," I said slowly. "You raised me to kill him. That's why you trained me. Why you kept me alive."
"Finally, you understand." Mordain looked almost proud. "You see, Sera, prophecies are tricky things. They always find a way to come true. But they don't specify how. The twins will either unite the realm or destroy it—well, if one twin murders the other, that's a kind of destruction, isn't it? The prophecy ends. The Council stays in power. I get rich. Everyone wins."
"Except my brother."
"Except your brother," Mordain agreed cheerfully. "But he's been living on borrowed time anyway. You both have. At least this way, one of you gets to survive." He leaned forward. "Unless you'd rather I kill you both right now?"
My hand instinctively moved to the dagger at my belt. Mordain noticed and laughed.
"Good. You still have that survival instinct. You'll need it." He pulled out a stack of papers and spread them across the desk. "Now, let's discuss how you're going to kill your brother."
For the next hour, Mordain walked me through every detail. The palace layout. Guard shift changes. Which servants could be bribed, which walls had weak wards, which windows stayed unlocked. He'd been planning this for months, maybe years. Every detail was perfect.
Except for one thing: I didn't know if I could do it.
But I couldn't say that out loud. Couldn't let Mordain see the doubt crawling through my chest like poison. So I nodded. Memorized. Asked tactical questions. Played the perfect weapon.
Inside, I was screaming.
"You'll leave at dawn," Mordain finally said. "Marcus will drive you to Luminara. You'll have two days to observe the palace before the Name Day celebration. Study the prince's routines. Find the perfect moment." He rolled up the maps. "Any questions?"
A thousand questions burned in my throat. Why did you separate us? What was our mother like? Does he know I exist? Would he recognize me if we met face to face?
But I swallowed them all and said, "No, Guild Master."
"Good. Dismissed."
I stood and walked toward the door, my legs mechanical. The locket was still on the floor. I wanted to grab it, to keep that tiny piece of proof that I'd once had a family. But my pride wouldn't let me show Mordain how much I cared.
I left it lying there.
The hallway outside was empty except for shadows. I walked toward the training wing, my mind spinning. I needed to hit something. Needed to bleed. Needed to feel anything other than this crushing weight in my chest.
"So. The favorite finally got her big mission."
I spun around.
Lyris leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Her ice-blue eyes glittered with malice in the torchlight. She was two years older than me, beautiful in a cold, sharp way, and the only person in Shadowveil who came close to matching my skills. She was also the closest thing I had to a rival.
"How long have you been listening?" I asked carefully.
"Long enough." She pushed off the wall and circled me like a predator. "Prince Kael Luminaris. The biggest target in the entire continent. The mission every assassin here would kill for." Her voice turned bitter. "And Mordain gives it to you. The precious little shadow princess."
"It's just a job, Lyris."
"Just a job?" She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Do you know how many years I've trained? How many missions I've completed perfectly? But you—you get everything handed to you because Mordain has some sick obsession with you." She stepped closer, and I could smell the mint on her breath, see the fury in her eyes. "What makes you so special, Sera? What makes you worth more than the rest of us?"
I wanted to tell her. Wanted to scream that I wasn't special, I was cursed. That Mordain didn't favor me—he'd been grooming me to commit the worst kind of murder. That every day of my life had been designed to lead to this one moment of betrayal.
But I couldn't. The words stuck in my throat.
"Maybe you should ask Mordain," I said instead.
Lyris's hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, her ice magic crackling against my skin. It burned cold. "Maybe I will. And maybe I'll tell him that his perfect weapon is having doubts about her mission."
My blood went ice-cold.
"You're bluffing."
"Am I?" Her smile was cruel. "I saw your face when you left his office, Sera. You looked like someone just told you the world was ending. That's not the face of an excited assassin about to make her first kill." She leaned in close. "That's the face of someone who just learned something that changes everything."
My mind raced. If Lyris told Mordain I was hesitating, he'd kill me. Or worse—he'd torture me until I proved my loyalty by killing someone else. Maybe one of the younger orphans. Maybe Lyris herself.
"What do you want?" I asked quietly.
"I want to come with you." Her grip tightened. "I want to be there when you kill the prince. I want Mordain to see that you needed backup. That you're not as perfect as he thinks. That I'm just as valuable as you are."
"This is a solo mission."
"Then make it a team mission. Or I tell Mordain you're compromised." Her ice magic burned hotter against my skin. "Your choice, shadow princess. Share the glory, or lose everything."
I stared at her, weighing my options. If she came, she'd watch my every move. Report every hesitation. But if she stayed and talked to Mordain...
"Fine," I said. "But you follow my lead. My plan. My rules."
Lyris released my wrist and smiled. "Deal."
She walked away, her footsteps echoing down the hall. I stood there, rubbing my burned wrist, feeling the walls closing in around me.
In three days, I had to murder my twin brother while my jealous rival watched for any sign of weakness.
And the worst part? I still didn't know if I could go through with it.
I looked down at my hands—hands that had been trained to kill since before I could read. Hands that had never hesitated before.
But as I turned them over in the dim torchlight, I could have sworn I saw them trembling