Treyan stood silently, staring at the very book that had destroyed his life.

It had been three months since Alex's return, but still nothing changed.

Of course, he tried calling on her, when he was able to—his time at the palace was limited due to his constant visits toward the tree line, but still he tried. However, each time, the guards outside of her chamber doors—his own guards—denied him entry. Alex refused to see him, and he hadn't talked to her since the night she awoke and subsequently walked away from him. She rarely left her quarters, he noted on the rare occasions he was within the palace, and when she did leave them, she was never alone. She was constantly surrounded by her guards, or the Councillor, and on the off chance their paths did cross, whether in the hallways or near the kitchens, she never gave him the benefit of a glance or even the acknowledgement that he was there.

This was not how things were supposed to be.

A part of him now understood Reylor's contempt toward the Annals. The book did nothing but ruin lives. And here they sat before him, untouched and unscathed, unlike the lives its text had already ruined.

He traced the intricacies of the leather-bound cover with a gentle hand, but the Annals did not react to his touch. All the better, he decided. He wasn't here looking for visions or foretelling.

He was here looking for answers.

With two hands he pushed open the large cover of the Annals and began scouring the mysterious tome before him. He didn't know what he was looking for—answers to unknown questions, perhaps—but whatever it was, it had to be in the book.

Treyan was unsure as to how much time passed as he dedicated himself to reading every line of text written in the book. Not only did it house the very Prophecy his family's legacy was built upon, but in it contained the history of each and every retrieval of an Empress throughout the generations. He knew one day it would be his time to include their story within the Annals and scoffed at the story he would someday need to tell his children.

Treyan stopped reading as his tears surfaced. He knew the Prophecy but reading it all again gave pause. How did his father feel having to tell his story? Did he feel as though he had done the Empire its justice, and not the failure his son felt now? And his own mother, who had lost her life at such a young age, how did she ensure the Prophecy would continue? Treyan's father disappeared when he was young, and his mother died so soon after...to know she died without knowing how her sons would carry on her legacy...

Treyan was beyond mourning his mother, but now it was his potential future with Alex that concerned him.

He wiped his eyes, angry at himself for this weakness.

Taking a deep breath, he continued. He knew there was something hiding within the ancient texts that told him why Reylor did what he had, if he could even figure out what exactly it was he had done. History repeats itself, he once told Alex, and Treyan was going to find it again.

Treyan looked up as one of the palace's caretakers entered the library to light its sconces and candles. He didn't know if they even noticed him there, but he was grateful they let him be. It felt as though he scoured through the Annals for what felt like weeks, but in reality, he knew it was only the majority of the day. He read as far back as he could manage and consumed every ounce of history that his brain would hold, but it seemed as though his eyes were playing games with his mind, and it was clear the harder he tried to make sense of it— regardless of their history, everything remained the same:

The birth of the Queen Empress within the Otherrealm triggers the birth of the Twin Princes within the Empire. Once the Dream of the Empress is revealed, the Crown Prince travels to the Otherrealm to retrieve the Queen Empress. Upon coronation, it is the Crown Prince's sworn duty to ensure the continuance of the Empire's royal line, and upon the birth of the next generation, the Prophecy is reborn.

But why, he kept asking himself. What was the point?

There was little variation from generation to generation. The book was supposed to have the answers, not supply additional questions. It was close to the fiftieth recount when Treyan had seen enough and he began to lose his temper. Was this a joke from the gods? Were they only playing a game where he and Alex were the pawns? Was that what this was for?

He shoved the Annals away, unable to look upon it any longer, and it wasn't until the ancient pedestal began to tilt that he realized the horror of which he had done.

Desecrating the ancient book was blasphemous to the Prophecy and a betrayal to the Empire. He recalled Reylor's fate for his attempt at destroying the book, and quickly jumped behind a nearby bookshelf to shield himself from any retaliation.

Knowing Reylor's fate, he now feared for his own.

But the book did not react as he expected. Though it did fall from the pedestal, it began to emanate a pale, reddish glow and righted itself on its own. The pages began to rifle as though a breeze blew through them, and the book soon landed softly upon the floor. Eyes wide with caution, Treyan crept from his hiding place toward the mystic manuscript.

The Annals maintained the eerie red glow, but it appeared to open itself to an entry Treyan hadn't seen in his hours of searching. Peering at the text, it occurred to him this entry was dated some two thousand years before their time.

Kneeling on the floor before the tome, he leaned over and began reading.

He was uncertain of the context, for it was written centuries ago in an ancient hand no longer practiced, but the insinuation of the passage was clear. This was the story of the war from two thousand years ago that tore the Empire asunder, whose scars still remained within the Empire today. He sat there while he read through the entry, wondering why the Annals chose this time in history. Each passage was ripe with loss and death, gripping his attention while their words held tight around his heart with an icy touch.

But within those words was the glimmer of hope he was looking for.

There was one constant in all of this: one part of their story that continued to replay over and over again.

He knew he was crazy to think it a viable option, but if there was a chance to deny Reylor that which he thought he had cast between them....

He knew what must be done to save Alex. To save his Empire.

And when he was done, he would consider killing his brother for it.