Chapter One

“Fallen from grace—Aiden, reduced to eating the last squirrel in the woods.”

Aiden dramatically lifted the final piece of meat with his handmade fork. Just as he was about to savor it, the grilled squirrel vanished from his plate. He didn’t need to turn around to know who stole it.

“Ugh, seriously, Caelum? Again?!”

“I’m hungry...” Caelum mumbled, still chewing.

“Hey, Ignatius!” shouted the brother sprawled on the couch in the corner. “My five coins, please! Looks like our dear Caelum still has his appetite—even after being poisoned by that mushroom.”

“BURN IN HELL, SCUM!” Ignatius roared, hurling a pillow across the room.

“Why is it always you, Elior, who makes Ignatius angry?” asked the only brother with blue eyes, lifting his head from the game he’d invented himself.

“It’s not my fault our fiery brother always loses his bets, my dear Kaito.” Elior’s wide grin lit up his face—just before Ignatius hurled one of Kaito’s boards at him. It missed and shattered against the wall.

Kaito looked ready to explode, but their youngest brother interrupted.

“Some of us are trying to sleep here, you brats!” Somnus yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“You can borrow my earflaps, Somnus,” Caelum offered. “I use them when Aiden sings.”

“WHAT? My voice is BEAUTIFUL! The celestial realms—” Aiden nearly fell off his chair.

“That’s exactly why I don’t want to hear you singing,” said a cold, low voice.

Everyone fell silent.

An intense tension settled over the room as the eldest brother entered.

Aiden clenched his jaw, stood up, and left the rest of the squirrel for Caelum. He disappeared into his room.

“Were you crying, Orion?”

Somnus’s hesitant question caught him off guard.

Orion shook his head quickly and left again.

...****************...

Ten years had passed.

Ten years of living in this new hell.

They had turned to the dark to hide. To figure out what to do... where to go.

This house—once the ruins of a forgotten cottage —was their only shelter.

They still had only each other.

Their only progress?

Not running away when someone spoke to them.

They rarely left the house.

Only when it was absolutely necessary.

Food, clothes, medicine—whatever they couldn’t scavenge from the forest, they had to find elsewhere. Sometimes, while exploring the woods, they stumbled upon forgotten stashes: money buried by criminals who had once fled the town and never returned. Those finds were rare, but valuable.

When luck ran dry, some of them resorted to stealing.

Elior was the fastest. Aiden, the boldest.

They didn’t enjoy it, but they were good at it.

Whenever they crossed into town—just beyond the forest’s edge—they had to blend in. No risks. No traces. Their heightened senses stayed sharp—smell, hearing, intuition, apprehending beyond human abilities—but everything else had to be quiet. No flickers of what they used to be. They walked among humans like shadows. Silent. Careful. Forgettable.

It was a rule.

One of the few they all obeyed.

Orion had been watching everything.

Helping them through every difficulty.

Whenever one of them broke down, he picked up the pieces and made them stand again.

He knew deep down, his brothers blamed him for the way they lived—but none dared to say it aloud.

They just listened.

And obeyed.

It was all they could do at this point.

Crying over broken wings was pointless.

They had nothing left to lose.

And following Orion wouldn’t make life any harder than it already was.