"Go on. Fly."
The word cracked against Rivenor's face like a slap.
He flinched, fingers tightening around the rusted railing as another gust slammed into his chest. The rooftop felt smaller than it had a moment ago—like the building was shrinking beneath his feet while the ground below stretched farther and farther away.
"Come on," Kael said again, laughter curling through his voice. "Fly."
Rivenor looked back.
Kael stood several steps behind him, relaxed, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie like this was nothing more than an after-school joke. Like his little brother wasn't trembling at the edge of a building more than ten meters above the ground.
The wind roared in Rivenor's ears, whipping his oversized shirt against his thin body. It tugged at him like invisible hands, coaxing him forward. He felt light, too light. Like if he lifted one foot for too long, the air itself might decide for him.
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
His throat burned. His eyes stung. Tears gathered as he glanced down at the city, where cars crawled along the streets like toys.
"Wow," Kael said. "You're really scared."
Rivenor swallowed hard.
"You practice jumping off stuff all the time, don't you?" Kael continued. "Now's the time."
Rivenor's ribs felt too tight for his breathing, like something was pressing inward. That wasn't why he came up here.
If you're wondering how he ended up on the roof—and why his own brother was telling him to jump—then you're already closer to the truth than anyone in that house ever bothered to be.
Rivenor hadn't planned to be caught.
He'd woken that morning feeling heavier than usual, even though his body was thinner than it had ever been. His bones ached. His head throbbed. His stomach twisted, empty, sour, and exhausted.
It was his fourteenth birthday.
No candles. No cake. No gifts. Not even a quiet, awkward happy birthday. Just the same bitter antidote his mother forced down his throat every morning, and the same look of disappointment in her eyes as she watched him swallow.
The antidote burned all the way down. It always did. Like acid crawling through his veins, scraping something raw and sensitive inside him. Whatever the doctors claimed it did, all Rivenor knew was that it left his hands shaking and his body weaker and smaller.
He hadn't eaten real food in so long that hunger no longer felt sharp. It felt normal, like background noise he couldn't turn off.
After the antidote left his hands trembling, Rivenor locked himself in his room and sat in the dark.
His room was always dark.
The curtains stayed shut. The lights stayed off. Not because he liked it—at least not at first—but because the dark hid things. In the dark, the thin silver threads clinging to his walls and ceiling were harder to see.
The staff had stopped cleaning his room months ago. Every time they cleared the webs away, more appeared. Thicker and stickier. Like the room itself rejected being normal.
So they stopped trying, and so did he.
He sat on his bed, knees pulled to his chest, staring into the blackness while the house buzzed with ordinary life outside his door. Kael laughing. His parents talking. Servants passing by.
Death crossed his mind the way it always did—not loud or dramatic. Like a door he kept glancing at, even though he knew he wouldn't open it.
Death didn't even feel like an option anymore.
If he died, they'd still control the story. They'd talk about him like a mistake. A defect. Something shameful they were relieved to be rid of.
They wouldn't even let him rest. So he got up and followed the threads.
They were faint in the hallway, clinging to corners and doorframes, trailing behind him like fingerprints he couldn't erase. He hated that most—that he couldn't move without leaving evidence of himself.
That must have been how Kael found him.
"Man," Kael said now, laughter sharp and cruel. "You're pathetic."
Rivenor's fingers dug into the railing, knuckles white. His heart hammered so hard it hurt.
Little did Kael know, Rivenor hadn't come up here to practice anything. He'd come to make the noise stop. But Kael never knew when to stop.
"If you don't jump," Kael said, stepping closer, "I'll help you."
Rivenor's breath hitched.
"Use your thread, Riven," Kael added mockingly. "That's what it's there for, right?"
The nickname burned worse than the antidote.
They used it at school. Whispered at first, then louder. Because the threads sometimes followed him there too, clinging to desks, wrapping around chair legs, sticking to his sleeves when he panicked.
And now Kael was using it.
Rivenor's legs shook violently. Tears finally spilled, hot against his cold cheeks. He blinked them away, ashamed—even now.
Then a voice shouted from below.
"Hey!"
Both brothers froze.
"Get down from there!"
Rivenor looked over the edge. Across the street, a man stared up at them, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun.
Mr. Sam. Their neighbor. A policeman. Kael cursed under his breath.
"Oh, shit."
Without another word, he spun around and bolted for the rooftop door, disappearing like nothing had happened.
Like Rivenor hadn't almost died.
Rivenor stayed frozen for several seconds, lungs burning. Then, slowly, he climbed down, careful, gripping the railing with both hands. His body felt fragile, like it might snap if he moved too fast.
When he finally reached the door, his legs barely held him. He slipped inside and leaned against the wall, chest heaving.
Is this another sign? he wondered.
That even death wasn't a choice he was allowed to make.
He needed to get better. At least… start by gaining weight.
But how did one gain weight when the only thing he was allowed to consume all year was antidote?
Screw Kael, Rivenor thought bitterly as he headed downstairs. He wants me dead so badly.
And yet the thought that shocked him most was this:
Why does it make me want to live so badly?
Just to keep getting on his nerves.
He didn't make it past the living room.
"Rivenor."
His mother's voice stopped him cold.
Elaine stood near the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, eyes sharp and tired. Kael hovered behind her, face carefully blank and innocent.
Rivenor knew immediately. Kael had told his version.
"What were you doing on the roof?" Elaine demanded.
Rivenor said nothing.
"Answer me."
Silence stretched.
"I didn't do anything wrong," Rivenor said quietly.
Elaine scoffed. "Don't lie."
"I wasn't trying to hurt anyone."
Kael sighed. "Mom, he's doing it again. Acting weird. Leaving his… cobwebs everywhere."
Rivenor clenched his fists.
"He told me to jump," Rivenor said, voice shaking. "Kael told me to jump."
Elaine laughed. Short and cold.
"Why would your brother do that?" she said. "You exaggerate everything."
"I'm not—"
"Do you have any idea how exhausting it is," she interrupted, "living like this?"
Her gaze raked over him. "Looking at you every day."
The words hit harder than a slap.
"If you hadn't been born like this," Elaine said quietly, "maybe my life would've turned out differently."
She looked away, like he disgusted her.
"Maybe I would've had normal children."
Rivenor's chest tightened painfully.
"You're the reason everything went wrong," she added. "You and your disgusting bloodline."
His ears rang, he didn't wait for her to finish. He turned and walked away.
Up the stairs. Down the hallway. Back into the dark.
He shut the door and slid down against it, knees pulled tight as sobs tore free, loud, broken, and uncontrollable.
The darkness welcomed him, and then something moved under his bed, two red eyes blinked.
Rivenor froze. He leaned forward slowly, heart pounding.
And then—