Warning - This chapter contains child abuse, violence, blood/gore, mild torture. 

The cellar was dark and damp like usual. Roy always felt uncomfortable coming down into the bowels of the family hold, there was no wood or steel here, just rock. Growing up in a dry docked ship he had come to respect wood and metal, those were trustworthy materials for a home. Stone seemed too brittle, too hard to work with. You had to keep your eye on stone, he always said.

He crept down the stairs, still wearing his sleepwear, trying to be as quiet as he could so he didn’t wake anyone upstairs. The last thing he needed was his mother and father finding him down here again. His back still hurt from the last time. The steps were well worn by the servants who frequently came down here. His parents stored their imported wine down here, apparently the stone helped with the flavor, or at least that’s what they seemed to believe.

Roy came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, the cellar was filled with storage shelves and casks of wine, though lately they had been draining the barrels at an alarming rate. He carried a silver tray with food and water, it was much easier to carry this down here now that he didn’t have to try and hold a lantern as well. Just this last year his body began to awaken to its gifts, including the incredibly handy dark sight. Now the cellar seemed as bright as day. He walked over to the last barrel on the right in the back of the room. Reaching down he fiddled with the hidden clasp, the front of the cask opened like a door revealing a rough tunnel beyond it. Squeezing through the opening he made his way to his goal.

The jingling of chains told him that she wasn’t yet asleep. The tunnel was about twenty feet long terminating into a small box of a room. The size of the room couldn’t be more than six feet by six feet, Roy could reach the ceiling on his toes. There, sitting up against the far wall was a young woman. She had a lean body, with angular features, she wore a filthy dress that didn’t suit her at all. Despite her clothes condition, she was almost completely unblemished herself, her green eyes held a dangerous edge, her face mostly covered by her white hair. It broke Roy’s heart to see his sister in such a state.

“Good evening Fia, sorry I’m late. Mother and father were having a screaming match so I had to wait till they tired themselves out.” Roy sat on the dirt floor; it was pretty cramped between his sister, himself, the pile of dirty clothes in the corner and the bucket in the other. He put the tray on his crossed legs as he scooped a spoon full of soup, carefully holding the spoon out towards his sister's mouth. Fia looked down at the soup and with a sigh she took the offered food.

After swallowing Fia spoke up, her voice was growing more and more horse lately. “You shouldn’t be here Roy, if your parents find you-”

Roy shot her a pained look. “They’re your parents too! They just need to figure out how to help you and we can go back to how we used to be!” His voice cracked from the stress.

Fia laid her head on the wall behind her, closing her eyes. “Roy, we’ve talked about this. I don’t need help, this isn’t an illness.” Her voice was like that of an adult talking down to him.

Slamming his dead hand into the dirt Roy shouted. “Then how do you explain what happened?! One day you’re my little sister who looked up to me, the next you're almost a head taller than me and act completely differently!” His eyes began to sting and water. “I was your hero! Remember?”

“I’m sorry Roy.” Fia’s voice was raw with emotion. “I do remember those days, I’m still your sibling. I just can’t be your sister like before.”

“Why? Was it something I did wrong?” Roy sobbed into his hands, his nose running down his face.

Fia tried to move her hands down, but the chains around her wrists prevented her from doing that. “Roy, please. You didn’t do anything wrong. You have to calm down, if mother and father hear yo-” The cellar light flashed on. “Roy! You have to hide, now!” She hissed quietly.

Roy scrambled into the corner, covering himself with the dirty laundry, he pulled the tray into the pile to hide it. Closing his eyes he held his breath and prayed.

A pair of footsteps made their way into the small cell. Roy already knew that it was his parents, they were the only ones allowed to visit Fia. There was a gagging sound from his father as he spoke. “I have smelled latrines that were less offensive than this wretched shit hole. Tell me Fia, has your time here finally helped you see the error of your ways?” His voice was a nasally, pompous tone. The pair still wore their dinner attire, his father was in a vest and dress shirt, while his mother wore a red dress.

“Hello Nigel, June. How are you this evening? I was just counting the pebbles in the wall, again.” Fia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

A crack of leather on skin quickly followed as his mother’s voice boomed. “Hold your tongue you parasite! Every moment you waltz around in my daughter's skin is a disgrace to her memory!”

“I’ve told you, I had nothing to do with your daughter's death. She died in childbirth!”

“Lies! You stole her soul, you witch! Then you tricked us with some spell to have us raise you as our child!” June’s voice was on the verge of hysteria.

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Roy burst out from the pile of clothes, the insanity of what he had just overheard was too much for him to bear. His parents gave a shriek at his sudden appearance as they drunkenly stepped back. Fia looked horrified. Roy stared forward, his eyes dark with rage. “What did you just say?”

Nigel regained his composure as he moved forward, reaching out to grab Roy by the hair violently. “We forbid you from coming here! Is this how the heir to our great house acts? Sneaking around like a rat! Why did my only child have to be such a waste, after all of the time and resources we’ve sunk into your education. This house is doomed with you at its head.”

“Let him go!” Fia roared. She pulled at the chains in the wall, but her arms shook and lost their strength.

June smiled. “Not so tough now hm? It was worth it to poison your food for the better part of the last year, even a resilient parasite like you has their limits.” There was a wild look in her eyes. Like something was on the verge of snapping. She looked through Roy. “My sweet boy, my only child!” She shoved Nigel aside as she kneeled down before Roy. “I’m sorry Roy, your sister is dead, this thing ate her!”

Roy turned to Fia, he had no idea what in the hells was happening. “What are they talking about, you are my sister? Right?”

Fia lowered her head. “Roy…”

“If you aren’t my sister, what the hells are you!” Roy screamed. It felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest.

“You are my brother! I’m just not your sister! Roy, we aren’t Twins, you know that already! We don’t have the link! We’re triplets Roy!” Fia’s voice was distraught.

Roy heard the thing that upset him most. Real Twins always had the link, with no exception. But for some reason he had never been able to connect with Fia like he was supposed to. It had always been a sore spot, but his parents were quick with some excuse or another as to why the link might not have worked. “If that’s the case, what happened to my real Twin?”

Fia’s face fell. “She was stillborn. Our parents lied, made me live my childhood as your sister, forced me into fancy dresses and pretended that we were just normal Twins. I’m sorry Roy.”

Nigel kicked Fia in the face. Spittle covered his mouth as he shouted. “Shut your mouth you lying worm! That wasn’t our daughter!”

Unphased by the boot to the face, Fia continued. “They kept up the charade for twelve years, until I awoke to my powers. They couldn’t excuse my oddities after that, and I refused to keep playing pretend.” June shoved Roy into the wall as she stood, slamming her fists into Fia’s face, strike after strike landed with a dull thud, but they left no mark.

Laying against the cold stone the world seemed to grow quiet. Roy retreated inside, he reached out to the unresponsive link, the part of his mind that should have allowed him to share his thoughts with his pair; just as he had countless times, he had smashed his mind into it so many times in the past, but now he simply leaned against it. He sent something into the cold nothingness, knowing now there was no one on the other side. I wish I had gotten to meet you, maybe we could have been friends.

June stepped back as she nursed her bruised knuckles, she looked down at the cutlery on the ground. Reaching down and grabbing the spoon she muttered. “This gives me an idea. I wonder if your cursed power still works when your insides are no longer attached to you.” Something had finally snapped in her mind as she laughed and cried eerily. “Maybe when you die, the real Fia will come back to me. Nigel, hold her head still!”

Without a moment's hesitation Nigel wrapped his arms around Fia’s head, holding her still as they thrashed.

“Hold still now.” June leaned in, sliding the spoon underneath Fia’s eye as the dull metal entered her eye socket. Fia screamed through clenched teeth. 

Roy got up, walked over to behind his mother, and placed his dead hand behind her head. He tapped into his hollowness as he reached for his connection with the Night Father. There was a popping sound as his mother’s head ceased to exist. The stump of her neck twitched and spurted as her corpse fell to the ground in a heap, a pool of blood slowly spread from what was once his mother.

Roy’s father screamed. Letting go of Fia as he backed into the corner. “What the hells have you done! Why! You killed your mother! For what? For this imposter?” Nigel fumbled for his pistol, he pointed it at Roy and pulled the trigger without pause.

The air in front of Roy screamed as he continually erased it from reality. The bullet touched the bubble of nothingness and vanished. 

Roy walked slowly towards his father, his face grim with determination. He refused to answer his father, even as Nigel raised his own dead hand to try and fend off Roy. Whatever emotion he could muster, his fear, his anger, it was nothing compared to the emptiness that Roy was tapping into. The green flames that burst to life along his father’s hand were sucked into the vacuum of destruction, then his dead hand crumbled and was swallowed, and then the bubble reached Nigel’s chest. A perfect circular hole appeared in his torso.

His father slumped to the ground dead.

Fia sat there, their jaw open, the spoon still dangling from their skull. Roy reached his dead hand towards them. With a flick of his hand he erased the chains that held Fia in place.

Stammering, Fia tried to speak, but Roy cut them off. “I never want to see your face again, now leave. Please.” 

They seemed to grasp the situation, Fia nodded slowly as they rose on uneasy legs. They made their way down the tunnel as they limped, they glanced back. “You’ll always be my hero Roy.” Fia left the tunnel, and disappeared.

Roy looked down at his parents' corpses, remembering their warm smiling faces when he was young. He walked back to the entrance, placing his dead hand on each support pillar as he passed, leaving a green burning hand print. As he closed the casks secret door, he felt the tunnel collapse, entombing his parents in the secret grave.

Walking up the well worn stairs his mind wandered, there would be chaos of course; his parent’s disappearance would spark mass confusion. They were the heads of one of the great houses, but Roy wasn’t worried. No one would suspect he had a part to play in their vanishing, he could use that, leverage it to gain favor with the other houses. He would petition the ruling family for support in his house’s trying times. If he played this right he could use this opportunity to propel his family to greatness.

There was only one person Roy could rely on; himself.