Time/Date: TC1853.01.20 – Early Morning

Location: Metropolitan Police Station, 4th Ring, Interview Room Three

Selene sat frozen, Raven’s words echoing in the sterile silence of Interview Room Three.

Neither Amara nor I show any signs of being Amber Kissed.

The statement hung there, impossible and irrefutable. Selene’s pale blue eyes darted across Raven’s face, searching for the telltale marks that should have been obvious. Eyes flecked with gold—there was nothing. Hair threaded with unnatural shimmer—absent. Skin that caught light like polished amber—completely normal.

Nothing.

Seventeen years, and she’d never once questioned it. Never once looked at the girl she’d raised and thought to check for the most basic characteristic that every Kiss-marked child carried from birth.

"That’s..." Selene’s voice faltered. "That’s impossible. I made it myself. I followed the recipe exactly—"

"And you’re certain everyone was drugged with Amber Kiss?" Raven’s tone remained neutral, clinical. Like she was working through a logic puzzle rather than unraveling decades of deception.

"Of course!" Irritation crept into Selene’s response, defensive. "I prepared it myself. Measured every ingredient precisely. Spent weeks getting the formula perfect—"

She stopped.

Weeks.

Weeks of careful preparation for a potion whose effects should have been visible the moment Amara and Raven were born. Kiss-marked children didn’t just show signs eventually—they came into the world already touched by the potion’s power. Stronger constitutions. Enhanced healing. The golden tint that marked them as products of forbidden alchemy.

Raven, as a baby, had been sickly. Malnourished within days of birth because Selene had refused to feed her properly. No extra strength. No enhanced constitution. Nothing that suggested the Amber Kiss had worked at all.

And Amara...

Selene’s mind raced backward through seventeen years of memories. Amara had been healthy, yes, but not unnaturally so. No incredible strength as a toddler. No remarkable healing abilities. Just a normal child who’d grown into a beautiful young woman, also showing none of the characteristics of being Kiss-marked.

"By the Light," Selene whispered, the pieces clicking together with horrible clarity. "But I drank from the same batch I gave them. I tested it myself to make sure—"

"Oh, you and Edmund were definitely drugged with some sort of aphrodisiac," Raven interrupted, her voice carrying a note of grim certainty. "So too was Darian Long. But it wasn’t Amber Kiss."

The room tilted.

Selene gripped the edge of the metal table, knuckles white. "Why?" The word came out strangled. "Why would someone... why would Caelia..."

Because it had to be Caelia. Who else had access to Selene’s potions? Who else would have known her plans in enough detail to sabotage them so completely?

Raven leaned forward slightly, violet eyes—violet, not gold-flecked—studying Selene with an intensity that made her want to squirm. "I have my suspicions, Aunty. But I need to know more before I can be certain." She paused, letting that sink in. "How did Caelia get into the First Academy?"

The question seemed to come from nowhere, yanking Selene sideways through the conversation. She blinked, confused. "What? Her potions and healing abilities. She was considered a strategic asset. The Academy had to train her—everyone knew she was talented—"

"Interesting." Raven’s expression didn’t change, but something in her tone made Selene’s stomach drop. "Because the Alchemists’ Guild recently completed an extensive investigation into Caelia’s work. Every competition she won, every potion she submitted for evaluation, every formula she claimed as her own innovation."

Selene waited, dread building.

"Not a single potion was actually made by Caelia Lin." Raven let the words fall like stones. "Every single one bears your alchemical signature. Your methodology. Your hand."

The world stopped.

"You mean..." Selene’s voice came out barely above a whisper, her mind refusing to process what she was hearing. "Caelia got into the Academy using my potions?"

"It looks that way."

For a long moment, Selene couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The implications cascaded through her consciousness like an avalanche, burying everything she’d believed about her life, her sister, her worth.

All those years of Caelia telling her she had no talent. That her potions were worthless. That she should just "play" with her herbs because at least it made her happy, even if the results were garbage.

Caelia had been using her work. Stealing it. Building a reputation and a career on Selene’s talent while systematically destroying Selene’s confidence in her own abilities.

"I don’t..." Selene’s hands trembled against the table. "I don’t understand. Why would she—"

"We’ll come back to that," Raven said, her voice gentler now. Almost pitying. "But there’s something else that’s been bothering me about your story. You said Caelia found you in the Sixth District, after you ran away after your failed bloodrite, and convinced you to come back to the Long estate. That you lived there for years, terrified to leave."

Selene nodded numbly, still reeling.

"But here’s what doesn’t make sense." Raven’s tone shifted, becoming more analytical. "You were doing fine until a couple of months before Caelia found you. You’d found work. You had a place to stay. Your bloodline had regressed—you were no threat to anyone anymore. You’d been exiled from the Lin family. Removed from the family codex. By all rights, Caelia had won. She had Darian. She had a child, she was becoming well-recognized as a talented healer, the Lin Clan respected her, your parents and brother adored her. She had everything you’d lost."

"Yes," Selene whispered bitterly. "She did."

"So why would she need to find you?" Raven pressed. "She’d already destroyed you, stolen the man you loved, ostracized you from the family, the Lin clan, and even your noble friends, built the life you’d wanted. You were completely defeated. There was no reason to bring you back unless..."

Selene looked up, confused. "Unless what?"

"Unless she needed something from you." Raven’s eyes held hers. "Something she couldn’t get anywhere else. Think about it, Aunty. She had won completely. You posed no threat. So why ’rescue’ you?"

The memory surfaced—men cornering her in alleys, their crude threats, the terror of nearly being raped multiple times. And then Caelia appearing like a savior, offering protection, bringing her to the Long estate where she’d be "safe."

"She needed your alchemy," Raven continued, her voice steady and relentless. "But she needed you totally under her control. Too scared to do anything. So she terrorized you for months, made you desperate, and then saved you. Of course, you’d be grateful. Of course, you’d follow her back meekly and stay quietly in the Long estate, making potions for her."

Selene felt sick.

"But I’m confused about something," Raven added, tilting her head slightly. "Why did she decide you’d become a risk? That you were no longer worth keeping around? Think back, Aunty. To just before you found that book in the library. Did anything out of the ordinary happen?"

"No." Selene’s response was automatic. "Not really. I spent most of my time in my small courtyard, playing with—" She caught herself. Not playing. Working. Creating potions that Caelia would later claim as her own. "I rarely left. Sometimes I’d walk in the gardens, but only early morning or late evening. I wanted to avoid running into Caelia and Darian."

"Really? Nothing at all? You never ran into anyone? Never spoke to anyone?"

"N-no. Oh, wait..." Selene’s brow furrowed as the memory surfaced. "There were a couple of times I ran into Lady Zhao. Darian’s mother. We’d have small chats in the garden."

Something shifted in Raven’s expression. "Lady Zhao? Tell me about those conversations."

"There’s nothing to tell." But even as Selene said it, she was remembering. "She was an incredible woman. Kind, despite everything. She never treated me with contempt like everyone else did." The admission hurt, acknowledging that kindness now. "We’d just chat. Nothing important."

"Nothing?" Raven’s voice had gone very quiet. "Think carefully, Aunty."

Selene closed her eyes, pulling the memories forward. Morning mist in the garden. Lady Zhao’s careful steps, her body bearing the weight of old battlefield injuries. Pleasant conversation about the weather, about flowers, about...

"She did comment one day," Selene said slowly, "that I always smelled of herbs. Especially like the ones she was taking for her injuries."

Raven went very still.

"I remember telling her that I liked dabbling with herbs," Selene continued, the scene playing out in her memory with painful clarity. "That’s right—then Caelia and Darian came into the garden. I left hurriedly. I couldn’t stand seeing them so happy together, and Darian always gave me such a disgusted look."

Her voice dropped. "He even cornered me later that day. Told me to stay away from his mother. That was the last time I spoke with Lady Zhao. After that, I rarely left my courtyard." She swallowed hard. "I was really sad to hear about her passing a couple of years later."

The silence in Interview Room Three was absolute.

Then Raven spoke, so quietly Selene almost missed it: "So that’s it. That’s when you became a risk."

"What?" Selene looked up sharply. "What risk? I didn’t—"

But Raven was already moving to her next question, her expression intense with focus. "You said earlier that you can’t remember when you started thinking about revenge. Your exact words were ’I’m not sure if it was my own thoughts or something else—telling me I deserved better.’ Was that before or after your last conversation with Lady Zhao in the garden?"

Selene tried to think back, but the timeline blurred. Those years in the Long estate had been a haze of fear and isolation. "I can’t really remember." She shook her head helplessly. "I guess around the same time?"

"You only wanted to get back at Caelia and Darian," Raven observed. "Never your brother, your parents, the Lins. They all hurt you, too. Abandoned you. Did you never once think they were also to blame?"

A bitter smile twisted Selene’s lips. "Why would I? That’s how all nobles are. If you have no worth, they throw you away. With my blood regression, I was absolutely worthless. I’m just grateful they only removed me from the family codex—some families would have killed someone like me outright."

She meant it. Even now, even understanding how thoroughly she’d been manipulated, that fundamental belief remained: This is just how the world works.

***

In the observation room, Commissioner Wu’s entire body went rigid.

He’d been watching the interview with professional detachment, making mental notes about evidence and testimony. But that last exchange—the timing of Lady Zhao’s conversation, the sudden onset of revenge fantasies, the way Selene described it as an internal "voice"—it all pointed to something that made his blood run cold.

Morrison turned to look at him. "Commissioner, this couldn’t be—"

Wu lifted his hand sharply, cutting him off. His voice came out low and urgent: "By the Light, let’s hope not."

Morrison opened his mouth to press, but Wu’s expression stopped him cold. Veyne looked at both of them, confused, but whatever the Commissioner and Morrison suspected, it was serious enough to make these seasoned officers go pale.

"Observe," Wu commanded, his eyes fixed on the interview window.

Morrison fell silent, but his mind raced. No, it can be... By the Light, this case just keeps on getting worse.

***

"That... voice," Raven said carefully, her tone measured. "The one that said you deserved better. When did you hear it?"

Selene bristled immediately. "Raven, I’m not crazy." Irritation bled through her exhaustion. "I know it was my own internal thoughts. I’m not looking for some sort of excuse." She straightened slightly in her chair, defensive. "I know what I did wrong. I’ve already admitted it."

"Aunty, I’m not making fun of you." Raven’s interruption was gentle but firm. "I have a reason for my questions. I just want to confirm something. Did you have those internal thoughts all the time, or only at specific times? Like at night, late at night?"

***

In the observation room, Wu leaned forward.

"Clever girl," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Morrison’s confusion deepened. "Wait, how could she possibly know—"

Wu shot him a sharp look that clearly meant shut up and watch.

***

Selene rubbed her forehead tiredly. The metal chair had grown uncomfortable hours ago, and her mind felt fragmented from shock after shock. "Oh, I don’t know. I guess it was at night. Quite late."

She paused, more memories surfacing. "I do remember one time, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Thinking about how Caelia was so lucky. Wondering why, as twins, we’d ended up living such different lives. And that’s when I thought—" Her voice cracked slightly. "She doesn’t deserve it. She stole Darian from me."

The words tumbled out faster now, as if speaking them aloud released something she’d kept locked away. "Darian and those beautiful boys—they should be mine. My husband. My sons. And Lady Zhao, she should be my mother-in-law." Tears began sliding down her face. "Once that thought came, I just couldn’t get rid of it. I started secretly watching Caelia and Darian sometimes. Imagining that I was Caelia, living her life."

She looked at Raven through blurred vision. "Pathetic, isn’t it?"

Raven handed her a tissue from the box on the table without comment. When she spoke again, her tone carried something that might have been sympathy. "Aunty, just one more question. Do you remember how or why you were in the library at that time? You said you only stayed in your courtyard. You’d even stopped taking quiet walks in the garden after Darian told you to stay away from his mother. Did you have a habit of visiting the library?"

Selene wiped her face with the tissue, grateful for something practical to focus on. "No. The library is normally off-limits. Only Long family members have access."

"So how did you get in?" 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

"Oh, Caelia gave me a token." The memory was clear—Caelia being uncharacteristically kind, telling Selene she must be bored just playing around with her pot—

Selene’s voice trailed off.

The timing.

The token had come after the garden conversation with Lady Zhao. After Darian had cornered her and told her to stay away. After Caelia would have realized that Lady Zhao had noticed Selene smelled like the herbs in the potions Lady Zhao was taking.

The potions Caelia claimed were her own creations.

"No." Selene’s whisper was horrified. "Why would... why would Caelia set this all up? That makes no sense."

Raven’s smile was grim. "You answered it yourself, Aunty. You knew Darian would kill you. Caelia was using a borrowed knife to get rid of you. I’m sure she expected Darian to be so enraged after the drugging incident that he wouldn’t even listen to your excuses. He would have killed you instantly. You would never have survived long enough to give birth if you had been successful, not that Caelia would have allowed you to succeed."

The words hit like physical blows.

"Luckily," Raven continued, "Edmund Brenner hid you away. He probably saved your life."

Selene couldn’t speak. Couldn’t process. Every foundation she’d built her understanding on was crumbling.

"And there’s something else I’m confused about," Raven added. "The night before your bloodrite, you said Caelia insisted you both go home, even though she’d shown no interest in your parents since you left. All of you got drunk. Then Caelia uncharacteristically served you a drink during the night. You never thought that was strange?"

"Well, at the time I did," Selene admitted. "But I thought she was showing off to our parents."

"But your parents and brother were passed out in their rooms."

Selene froze. "What?"

"Think about it, Aunty. Why serve you a drink privately when everyone else was unconscious?" Raven leaned forward. "I’ve studied bloodrite manifestation extensively. Never—not once in any documentation—have I read about bloodlines screaming or causing severe pain during regression. A normal regression involves a progressive dimming. The auric manifestation fades gradually over several minutes. No fluctuation. No agony."

She held Selene’s gaze. "Yours doesn’t fit the pattern. It sounds like your bloodrite was interfered with. And I think it was what you drank that night. Somehow, Caelia found a way to cause full bloodline regression."

***

In the observation room, Wu’s hand clenched on the windowsill hard enough to hurt.

A potion that can cause full bloodline regression.

The implications were staggering. Catastrophic. If such a thing existed and fell into the wrong hands...

He thought about the Sundering. About the war that was coming. About celestial families who would do anything to sabotage their rivals before the great conflict began.

Morrison watched Wu’s face drain of color and wisely said nothing.

***

Selene broke.

Not dramatically. Not with screams or denials. She simply... collapsed inward. Her shoulders curved, her head dropped into her hands, and sobs tore from her throat—raw and broken.

"So she stole my life," Selene choked out between gasps. "Ruined my bloodrite. Stole my talent. My work. My future. But so what?" Her voice rose, edging toward hysteria. "She gets away with it. She always gets away with it!"

"No, she doesn’t." Raven’s voice cut through Selene’s breakdown like a blade. "The Guild is already bringing charges against her for fraud and theft of intellectual property. And remember one thing, Aunty—blood never lies. The truth of what happened to your bloodrite is in your blood. No matter what she fed you, there will still be traces. Even after thirty years, alchemical compounds leave signatures."

Hope and despair warred on Selene’s tear-stained face.

The door to Interview Room Three opened.

Commissioner Wu stepped inside, his expression grave. He moved with the controlled precision of someone making a decision that would have far-reaching consequences.

"Miss Lin," he said formally, then seemed to reconsider. "Selene. I’ve been observing this interview. What’s been revealed here has serious implications that extend far beyond your individual case."

Selene looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

"I’m prepared to offer you something," Wu continued. "If you’re willing to submit to a comprehensive blood analysis—not just for standard toxicology, but for deep alchemical residue scanning—and if that analysis provides evidence of the interference you’ve described, I will personally fight for leniency in your sentencing."

He held up a hand before she could respond. "I’m not promising you’ll avoid prison. What you did was serious, and justice must be served. But with proof that your bloodrite was sabotaged, that you were systematically manipulated and controlled for decades, that your actions stemmed from literal psychological conditioning..." He paused. "You might keep your life."

"Can you really give me justice?" Selene’s voice was barely audible, fragile with a hope she didn’t dare believe in. "After so many years?"

Wu’s expression hardened with determination. "We can sure as hell try."

A moment passed. Then another.

"I’ll do it," Selene whispered. "Test my blood. If there’s even a chance..."

Wu nodded sharply and moved to the door, summoning the forensic team. Within moments, specialists in white coats entered with testing equipment, and the interview room transformed into a makeshift medical bay.

Raven stood, giving them space.

Wu gestured for her to follow him out.

***

They walked in silence down the corridor, past occupied interview rooms and busy officers processing evidence. Wu led her to a small private room—barely more than a closet with a table and two chairs—and closed the door.

"Raven." He used her chosen name deliberately. "First, thank you for your assistance in this investigation. Your insights have been... invaluable."

She inclined her head slightly, waiting.

Wu’s expression grew troubled. "What’s come out in that interview has implications that extend far beyond one family’s crimes. A potion that can cause full bloodline regression. A possible..." He hesitated, then seemed to decide against finishing that sentence. "I’m sorry to have intervened like this. I know that by pursuing evidence that might spare Selene’s life, I’m potentially denying you your vengeance."

"I was never after revenge," Raven said quietly, but with absolute conviction. "I only want justice. Selene Lin needs to pay back her karma. She has to earn merits to save her soul—and that won’t happen if she’s executed and can’t do the work required for her spiritual redemption."

Wu studied her, this seventeen-year-old girl who spoke with the wisdom of someone far older.

"I suggest," Raven continued, "that once the case is tried and everything is sorted, Selene spends the rest of her life treating the needy. Her alchemical talents could save thousands of lives. That would be true justice—not her death, but her life spent in service, earning back what she destroyed."

She turned to leave, then paused at the door. Looking back at Wu, her violet eyes held something ancient and knowing.

"With what’s coming, Commissioner, Ascara needs talents like Selene. It would be beneficial to the Wu clan to help keep her safe. Her abilities will save a lot of lives when the time comes."

Then she was gone, leaving Wu standing in the small room, frozen.

On one hand, he respected Raven’s ability to see the bigger picture. Her strategic thinking. Her understanding that justice served a purpose beyond simple retribution.

But on the other hand...

How does a seventeen-year-old girl know about the Sundering?

No. This was serious. This wasn’t just some overheard rumor or lucky guess. The way she’d said it—with what’s coming—carried the weight of certain knowledge.

The Sundering was classified information. Only the heads and designated heirs of celestial families knew. The Sanctum Clans knew. The Emperor’s inner circle knew. Even Wu himself shouldn’t know, but the patriarch had taken him aside and told him it was mainly because of his position that the patriarch felt that he should know—so he could be on the lookout for threats and strategic information. But a merchant’s daughter raised as a servant? There was no logical way she should have had that information.

Unless...

Wu’s mind raced through possibilities, each more troubling than the last.

He was torn. Duty said he should report this immediately. Duty said a civilian with knowledge of classified imperial secrets was a security risk that needed to be contained and questioned.

But thousands of people in the Wu clan could be affected by what was coming. Thousands of lives that might depend on having a master alchemist like Selene available when the Sundering arrived. And Raven clearly understood that—understood the strategic value, the necessity of preserving certain talents even when justice demanded punishment.

She was thinking like a military strategist. Like someone who’d seen war before.

How?

Wu pulled out his encrypted communicator and stared at it for a long moment.

Then he made his decision. Reaching over Wu, activated the privacy ward signet next to the door. What most didn’t know is that this small room had one of the most sophisticated privacy wards available in the entire police station.

He scrolled through his contacts, past dozens of subordinates and colleagues, until he reached the entry simply labeled "Patriarch."

His thumb hovered over the call button.

This conversation would change everything. Once he brought these matters to the Wu family patriarch, there would be no going back. The potion that could regress bloodlines. The possibility of a shadow whisperer. Raven’s impossible knowledge. Selene’s potential value. The conspiracy that reached into the highest levels of imperial society.

All of it would cascade outward, touching every family, every clan, every political alliance in the Empire.

Wu took a breath.

Then he pressed the button and lifted the communicator to his ear.

"Commissioner Wu requesting immediate audience with the Patriarch," he said formally when the connection opened. "Priority: Extreme. Topics: multiple. Time-sensitive nature. Required resources: full clan intelligence network, alchemical experts, shadow division consultation."

A pause.

Then: "Subject matter relates to the Sundering."

The voice on the other end shifted immediately, all protocol and urgency.

"Understood. Connecting you now, Commissioner."

Wu waited, standing alone in the small private room, while the fate of empires balanced on the edge of what he was about to report.

The line clicked.

"Patriarch," Wu said, his voice steady despite everything churning inside him. "We need to talk. And you’re going to want to sit down for this."