Oden stood near the entrance of the sanctuary, donning the gown and robes provided to them, quivering as they stared down the long aisle to the altar. They did not know the significance of the ceremony, only that they had been prepared for it for some time, practicing the steps and prayers for a while now, only before the church had been empty. Now hundreds of people sat in the pews, their eyes peering through the prince into their very soul. It was hard enough that the saints watched them, now the people they were told would serve them watched, and judged. Only eight years old and yet the little prince felt the burden of a whole city weigh on their shoulders like an overstuffed backpack. This was the first time the prince had ever truly been perceived by the public, their father having hid them away for the past two years ever since their hair turned white. Despite wearing their gown and robes, Oden felt as though they had stood there fully exposed to the audience of nobles that sat as spectators to the holy ceremony. 

Their mind washed over with a great buzzing, drowning out the words the priest spoke as he gave the opening prayer, and the room around them looked fuzzy, like a television with no signal. The world become nothing but static and soon the only thing the prince heard was pounding drum inside their chest. They stood there like a tree shivering in the howling wind, their mind now lost in a storm and unable to return to the world around them.

“Get on with it, boy, move now!” The king growled to himself as the priest had finished his prayer and the music started, cuing the prince to approach the altar. Oden remained in place, their face as blank as a new canvas, their only visible eye unfocused as it stared off into space. “Do not embarrass me you little wretch,” the king cursed.

Oden remained nearly motionless, only slightly shaking their body as they began to whimper silently. There was no way back for them, their mind was lost in a sea of haziness, till they felt a small hand reach out and tug on their sleeve.

“What is she doing?” the king exclaimed in horror as little Quinn pulled on Oden’s arm. “Control your child at once!” he demanded Nioto, though she remained seated, watching as her daughter attempted to coax the little prince back from their panic.

“Come on, Odie, this way,” she said as she gently led the prince down the aisle to the altar, “I’ll help you.”

With every step they took together, Oden saw a little bit more of the church around them as the buzzing storm inside them began to quiet into a soothing rainfall. Focusing on the little girl, Oden managed to walk to the altar, where both of them stood before the priest.

The holy man hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should continue the ceremony like normal or wait for the little girl to return to her seat, but when he saw she was not leaving, he went on as if everything were normal. Scriptures in hand he recited a passage about the lord calling the children of kings and kingdoms to come into his service, till he came to the part Oden was meant to read.

They stared blankly for a moment only speaking when Quinn pulled on their gown, “and they said, ‘I will come before you to serve in your stead, leading nations to submit to your word,” the prince repeated the phrase they had practiced over and over again.

Continuing, the priest began to pray, as an altar boy brought a candle to the priest. Taking the candle, he tapped Oden’s shoulders in a gesture that resembled a knighting, “you will serve the lord, anointed as a future king of the people, and slave to his holy word.” 

As the prince began to speak, reciting their part of the prayer, an alarm rang out through the church, stirring a panic as lights flashed and a siren blared. Petrified, the prince cowered as Quinn clung to them, sending their mind into a black inky void of dark memories.

The priest tried to calm the congregation, before dropping to his knees beside the prince. An altar boy stood behind the fallen priest, a snide grin across his pockmarked face and bloody knife in his bandaged hand. Gunshots fired from the back of the sanctuary, sending the crowd into further panic as they began scrambling to escape what had now become a prison to them. 

The two children clung to each other by the altar, as a swarm of fleeing nobles blocked Niotos path to them. She cursed and shouted, pushing her way through the wave of bodies that blocked her, but for every step closer she got to them, she was pushed five steps back. 

“Odie, we have to run,” Quinn tried to get through to the prince, crying as she attempted to move them, but the prince buckled down muttering to themselves.

“Don’t hurt me daddy,” the prince whimpered, “don’t do that please,” they repeated over and over caught in a trance as their mind was filled with horrible images.

“Please, Odie, we have to get to mommy,” the little girl tried to coax them in vain. And then she felt a pair of arms wrap around her, “Mommy?” she cried, turning her head to see not her mother, but a Shepherd take hold of her. “No, let go, let go of me!” she squirmed as he dragged her away, slipping into cover amidst the crowd of screaming people.

***  

Reks stood dumbfounded in front of the safe, scratching his arms frantically as though he had been covered in flees, "this wasn’t part of the plan, there wasn’t supposed to be a code. It was a key I thought, just a key!” he said on repeat as he rocked back and forth.

“What are we gonna to do, Reks?” The girl asked, her voice matching the boy's panic.

“I don’t know, I don’t know. Dammit Silver, this isn’t good!” he kicked the safe, “the coffers were supposed to be easy pickin, right? My inside guys told me that all we had to do was get inside the room, and we’d get what we needed.”

The girl tilted her head, “inside guys?”

“Shepherds, they were working with Loche. They’re the ones who told me about the score in the first place!” He kicked the safe again, recoiling his foot in pain and cursing loudly.

As the two stood there trying to figure things out, they began to notice a faint beeping noise gradually get louder and faster. “What is that?” the girl threw her head in all different directions trying to identify the sound.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Reks looked towards the door and noticed a panel with a small flashing light which he quickly identified as the source of the beeping, “an alarm! The fricken room has an alarm set!”

“What?” the girl's question was quickly answered as the beeping ceased and was instead replaced by the ear shattering screeching of an alarm. They covered their ears and hunkered down as their senses were assaulted by the deafening siren. “What do we do?” she cried; her voice barely audible above the alarm.

In a panic Reks' eyes darted around the room, landing on collection baskets that still sat on the table, filled with the day's offerings, "shit, just grab those and run!” he screamed, grabbing a basket and shoving another into the girls hands.

“This won’t be enough!” she whined as he handed her a second basket.

“Who cares, better than nothing!” Reks grabbed the last basket and made a beeline for the door. They fled the room and immediately took off running, turning right after passing a few doors. Entering the long side hall of the church they turned right again in an attempt to follow the path the girl took to get there.

“Stop thieves!” a Shepherd commanded as he blocked their path forward. Slowly, they backed away as a second Shepherd joined him, sword drawn.

“Are they part of the rioter?” the second asked as the two drew closer to the pair of fake altar boys.

“Has to be,” the first said, drawing his own saber from its scabbard. 

Panicking, Reks doubled back, nearly leaving the girl behind as she stumbled behind him. The two turned back into a narrow hall, Recks yelling, “left, go left!” Bursting through another door they found themselves in a room adjacent to the sanctuary with two doors. Knowing the westward door would lead into the sanctuary, Reks opted to go south, turning over a table that stood in his path. Frantically he kicked open the door into the foyer, knocking down a painting that hung on the wall. Just one more turn and they’d be in the entrance hall, freedom within their grasp, or so the boy thought. 

“Reks!” the shrill shrieking voice of the young girl caused him to come to a sudden stop as he whipped around as though she caught his neck in a lasso. In the chaos of the chase she had tripped over some of the various items he had scattered to the ground. She laid face first on the floor, her baskets of money spilled infront of her, desperately trying to scoop the ides back into them. “No time, come on, come on!” He lifted her up, his own foot slipping and stumbling over the fallen collection basket. Twisting his ankle he let out a loud howl, but ignored it so he could aid his accomplice. 

As soon as they got her back on her feet, the Shepherds sprung upon them, cornering them in that little side room. “A demon!” One yowled upon seeing the girl, and with zero hesitation lunged their saber forward. With equal abandon, Reks threw his own body in the path of the blade, shielding her from the Shepherds' attack. The sword plunged deep into his side sending a searing pain throughout his whole body. 

“Reks!” she cried out again, grabbing onto the boys arm, only to have him shove his basket of ides into her arms.

“Come on,” he grunted, “run already!” He pushed her, still keeping himself between the Shepherds and his friend, and when she stood there refusing to move he yelled, “get out of here now!” And shoved her away. She did not hesitate a second time, listening to his command she ran through the west door into the sanctuary, where she found a scene of total chaos.

People screamed and scattered like scurrying little cockroaches running away from the light. She jumped in panic as Reks grabbed her from behind, “come on, hurry!” he groaned, pulling her towards the entrance as he limped as fast as he could. It didn’t take long for their pursuers to catch them, even amidst the panicked crowd, they couldn’t get away. A Shepherd grabbed hold of the girl's hood, pulling her back as he raised his sword to strike her. This time Reks was powerless to save her, barely mustering the strength he needed to flee. 

She was going to die, she thought as time slowed down around her and the Shepherd readied his strike. Her unlikely salvation came from the booming sound of a gunshot, one aimed for her would be killer. Freed from his grip, she took but a single second to look for her supposed savior and saw a sickening familiar grin greet her from the crowd. Loche gazed at her with an intense glean in his eyes, as if to say “you’re welcome” as he slithered his way past them and approached the altar. 

“Let’s go!” Reks grabbed her hand again and the two weaseled past through the commotion, doing all they could to not get trampled as they escaped. 

The streets outside the church had never looked so inviting, so comforting, so freeing. Somehow they did it, they emerged into the world outside with their lives and very little else. The money didn’t matter in that moment, all the girl cared about was that they were alive. For now. Reks had fallen over onto her, her body barely being able to support his weight as they stood there at the church entrance.

“Come on now,” he said with a forced chuckle, “we gotta get out of here.” He nudged her and pointed west, “Jojo’s, well go to Jojo’s.”

“We need to get you help,” she cried as her robe grew damp with his blood.

“I need to see him, I gotta tell him sorry,” Reks coughed, “come on, Silver.” Pleading with his eyes, he urged her to help carry him to Josiah’s boutique, his bleeding never slowing. They walked down the muddy city streets, no one ever paying mind to the two children, or more accurately no one caring to help.

The boys body felt heavier and heavier till she couldn’t carry him any further, try as she might, her knees began to buckle before finally giving up. They tumbled to the ground, his body burying her like a sack of rocks on top her, she squirmed to free herself from beneath him as he begged her to help him back up, “I gotta tell him,” Reks repeated faintly.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Reks,” tears streamed down her blood stained cheeks, “I can’t lift you up, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey hey hey,” he whispered, “it’s okay Silver, it’s okay,” his voice got quieter with each word, “it’s probably for the best, I shouldn’t let the boy I love see me dying like this should I?” he coughed out a fake laugh.

“Don’t say that, you’re not gonna die okay?”

A forced grin spread across his cheeks, “sorry kiddo but this is the end of the line for me,” his breathing became labored and his words came slower, “really sucks, I was just starting to enjoy having a little sister again,” 

She grabbed his robes and buried her face into his chest, sobbing, “you’re not gonna die Reks, you can’t die!”    

“Sorry I wasn’t a better big brother to ya, Silver, guess i really was just a bully,” he paused and breathed a moment, “promise me you wont go back to Valha, okay?” 

She waited for him to say more, to tell her where to go, or who to see, she waited for him to tell her to pick him back up so they could go see Josiah together, but he never said another word. She cried into his lifeless body, mourning the loss of her first friend. 

An indefinite amount of hours later she found herself knocking on the door to Jojo’s Boutique after they closed for the night. She waited till the younger Josiah at last answered her.

“Silver? Oh my god there’s so much blood, are you okay?”

Sniveling as tears and snot continued to pour down her face, “it’s not my blood.”

The concern on his face turned to apprehension as he began to look around, “where’s Reks? What happened, sweetie?” The girl casted her eyes, unable to answer, though her silence told Josiah all he needed to know.

***

Vox stood on the church steps a forlorn look plastered to its half formed face. It let out a heavy sigh as it turned away ready to return to its search.

“The prince is safe,” Raylelael assured it, “there’s nothing to be sorry for, you couldn’t stop the riot even if you did get here in time.”

It shook its head as it answered her, “I don’t feel right though, like something feels very wrong.”

The familiar chuckled, “you’re overthinking probably, it’s got to be nothing.”

As it talked with the spirit, they both noticed a woman with white hair bouncing from person to person in a manic state of desperation. Terror shook in her voice as she asked, “have you seen my daughter? She has silver hair and wears bandages over her eyes!” 

Silver Hair? Vox wondered, could it be that girl from the streets?

The mother frantically beseeched each person to help find her daughter, only to be ignored, pushed aside, or verbally assaulted. 

“I already know what you’re going to say,” Raylelael sighed.

“We have to find the girl with silver hair,” Vox affirmed.