Alec didn't sleep.
He couldn't.
The book's presence was like a heartbeat beneath the floorboards, whispering through the stone walls of his rented room in the city's east quarter.
Each page he turned brought flashes of forgotten wars, sealed cities, and the seven original Veilbound who shaped reality—and then were erased from it.
He had inherited more than blood.
He had inherited a position.
And positions demanded enemies.
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Just before dawn, a knock echoed through the room.
Three times.
Not on the door.
On the mirror.
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Alec stood slowly, hand on the hilt of the iron dagger he'd taken from the crypt.
The mirror's surface shimmered, like light playing over water.
And then a man stepped through.
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He wore a long gray coat with silver buttons that shimmered like starlight. His face was sharp, pale, with silver hair tied back in a low knot. But it was his voice—smooth, melodic, unnatural—that held Alec frozen.
"You've stirred the Shroud. Impressive."
"Who are you?"
The man gave a slight bow.
"Call me Solven. The tongue that speaks where others dare not."
Alec didn't lower the blade.
"You're with them."
"No," Solven said, smiling. "But I know how they move. The Shroud is many. I am… one."
That smile didn't reach his eyes.
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Solven moved across the room without making a sound. He glanced at the book on the table.
"Ah. The Testament still lives. Thought your father burned it."
"He tried."
"He was a good man," Solven said, brushing dust off the pages. "But weak. You can't cage chaos and expect it to behave."
"You knew him?"
"I knew them all."
He turned sharply.
"Alec Rivenhart. Mask-bearer. Veilbound. Tell me: Do you want to survive? Or do you want to matter?"
The words felt like bait.
Alec didn't answer.
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Solven laughed, low and dangerous.
"I can teach you to speak the old names. To bend the Veil with words alone. But only if you're willing to bleed."
He tossed a coin.
It hovered mid-air, spinning slowly.
Not a regular coin.
A mirror coin—both sides the same. A blank reflection.
"First rule of the hidden world," Solven whispered.
"Power has a cost. But ignorance costs more."
Alec reached out.
Touched the coin.
And the room shuddered.
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He saw fire.
A courtroom of veiled judges.
A woman bound in chains, singing a lullaby as the noose tightened.
A child alone in a tower, watching stars fall.
Himself—older, colder—wearing all seven masks.
And beneath it all… the Shroud watching.
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He dropped the coin.
Solven caught it.
"Careful. Visions bite harder than blades."
"Why are you helping me?" Alec demanded.
Solven's smile sharpened.
"Because when the Veil breaks—and it will break—I'd rather stand beside the heir of the Rivenharts than against him."
He stepped back into the mirror.
"Find the Third Mask. Before they do."
And he was gone.
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The mirror stilled.
Alec was alone again.
But something had changed.
The coin in his hand was no longer blank.
It now bore a symbol: a lion, devouring its shadow.