The letter is yellowed. The ink is brown. It smells of damp wool and old ash.

Wren writes from the Tower. The year is 1340. The air is thin. The light is gray. He is twelve. He is small. His hands shake. The quill scratches. The paper tears. He stops. He breathes. He starts again.

He writes to his brother, Cael. Cael is in the outer yard. Cael is safe. Cael is far. Wren is in the Hall of Whispers. This is the court. This is the place of power. The King is here. The King is silent. The King looks like a statue made of ice.

Wren wears the blue coat. The coat is heavy. The coat is stiff. The buttons are brass. The buttons are cold. The coat was his father’s. His father wore it to the wars. His father died in it. Now Wren wears it. It is too big. The sleeves hang low. The hem drags on the stone. The coat is a cage. The coat is a skin. It does not fit. It will not come off.

This is the first secret. Wren thinks he is wearing it. Wren is wrong. The coat is wearing him.

He looks at the mirror. The glass is dark. The reflection is pale. The reflection has no eyes. The reflection smiles. Wren does not smile. The coat smiles. The collar tightens. The air leaves his lungs. He gasps. He coughs. The sound is wet. The sound is wrong.

The allies are there. They stand in the shadows. There are three of them. They are old. Their faces are hidden. They hold candles. The flames are blue. The blue light is cold. They do not speak. They watch. They wait. They are the Keepers of the Seal. They know the truth. Wren does not know it yet.

Wren is a child. Children are simple. Children believe in monsters. Wren believes in the King. The King is the monster. The King is the law. The King is the end. The King wants the coat. The King wants the blue wool. The King wants the history. The King wants the power that is sewn into the threads.

Wren thinks he is brave. He thinks he is a hero. He thinks he will give the coat to the King. He thinks this is duty. He thinks this is love. He is wrong. He is a fool. He is a puppet. The strings are invisible. The hands are unseen. The puppet moves. The puppet bows. The puppet speaks.

"I bring the gift," Wren says. His voice is small. His voice is high. It is not his voice. The voice is deep. The voice is old. The voice is the coat.

The King nods. The King smiles. The smile is wide. The smile is thin. The teeth are sharp. The teeth are white. The King reaches out. The King’s hand is long. The King’s fingers are pale. The King’s hand moves. It moves slowly. It moves like water. It moves like death.

The allies step forward. The candles flare. The blue light turns red. The red light is hot. The red light burns. Wren sees the truth. The truth is sharp. The truth is pain. The truth is loss.

The coat is alive. The coat is hungry. The coat has eaten his father. The coat has eaten his mother. The coat is eating him. The coat is not a garment. The coat is a vessel. The coat is a prison. The coat is a god.

Wren tries to move. He cannot. His legs are locked. His arms are pinned. The buttons dig into his skin. The brass is hot. The brass is burning. The pain is bright. The pain is clear. He sees the room. He sees the King. He sees the allies. He sees the mirror.

The mirror shows the past. The mirror shows the blood. The mirror shows the screaming. The mirror shows the years. The years are long. The years are dark. The years are full of pain.

Wren understands now. He is not giving the coat. He is feeding the coat. The King is not the master. The King is the servant. The King serves the coat. The King fears the coat. The King needs the coat to rule. The coat needs blood to live. Wren is the blood. Wren is the meal.

This is the first turn. The sacrifice is not for the King. The sacrifice is for the coat. The sacrifice is for the beast. The sacrifice is for the dark.

Wren is afraid. Wren is angry. Wren is sad. Wren is alone. He looks at the allies. The allies look back. Their faces are clear now. They are not old. They are young. They are like him. They are like Cael. They are the other children. They were eaten too. They are part of the coat. They are the voice in his head. They are the smile in the mirror.

The allies move. They do not help him. They hold him. They tighten the straps. They pull the collar. They squeeze the neck. The breath is gone. The light is dim. The world is small. The world is a point. The point is black.

Wren fights. He kicks. He bites. He screams. The scream is silent. The scream is inside. The scream is in the wool. The wool soaks it up. The wool drinks it. The wool grows strong. The wool grows thick. The wool grows heavy.

The King watches. The King does not move. The King does not blink. The King is a statue. The King is a ghost. The King is nothing. The King is a shadow cast by the coat.

The allies release him. They step back. They fade. They are gone. Only Wren remains. Only the King remains. Only the coat remains.

Wren stands. The pain is gone. The fear is gone. The anger is gone. There is only calm. There is only peace. There is only the blue. The blue is deep. The blue is dark. The blue is the color of the sea. The blue is the color of the night. The blue is the color of the grave.

Wren walks to the King. The King bows. The King is small. The King is weak. The King is a child. Wren is tall. Wren is strong. Wren is the King. Wren is the power. Wren is the end.

Wren takes the crown. The crown is heavy. The crown is cold. The crown is iron. The crown fits. The crown is made for him. The crown is made by the coat.

Wren sits on the throne. The throne is high. The throne is hard. The throne is cold. Wren looks out. The hall is empty. The hall is dark. The hall is silent.

He looks at his hands. The hands are white. The hands are smooth. The hands are not his hands. The hands are the coat’s hands. The fingers are long. The fingers are pale. The fingers are sharp.

He looks at his face. The face is pale. The face is still. The face is beautiful. The face is empty. The eyes are closed. The eyes are dark. The eyes are full of shadow.

He is free. He thinks he is free. He is wrong. He is trapped. He is locked. He is bound. He is the prisoner. He is the key. He is the door. The door is closed. The door is sealed. The door is forever.

The letter ends here. The ink runs out. The paper is full. The story is done.

But the story is not over. The coat is still there. The coat is still warm. The coat is still waiting. The coat is still hungry. The coat is still alive.

Cael reads the letter. Cael is in the yard. The rain is falling. The rain is cold. The rain is gray. Cael holds the paper. Cael reads the words. Cael understands. Cael is afraid. Cael is angry. Cael is sad.

Cael looks at the sky. The sky is dark. The clouds are low. The clouds are heavy. The clouds are full of storm. The storm is coming. The storm is here.

Cael runs. Cael runs to the Tower. Cael runs to the Hall. Cael runs to the throne. Cael kicks the door. The door is locked. The door is strong. The door is stone.

Cael screams. Cael knocks. Cael cries. The sound echoes. The sound bounces. The sound dies.

No one answers. No one comes. No one hears.

Cael stops. Cael breathes. Cael thinks. Cael remembers. Cael remembers the coat. Cael remembers the blue. Cael remembers the warning. Cael remembers the father.

Cael looks at his own coat. Cael is wearing a blue coat. The coat is new. The coat is clean. The coat is light. The coat is soft.

Cael looks at the buttons. The buttons are brass. The buttons are cold. The buttons are shiny.

Cael touches the buttons. The buttons are warm. The buttons are alive. The buttons are moving. The buttons are tightening.

Cael feels the collar. The collar is tight. The collar is stiff. The collar is choking.

Cael looks at his hands. The hands are white. The hands are still. The hands are not his hands.

Cael looks at the mirror in the hall. The mirror is dark. The reflection is pale. The reflection has no eyes. The reflection smiles.

Cael does not smile. The coat smiles.

The story is not over. The story is just beginning. The blue is spreading. The dark is growing. The silence is deepening. The wait is long. The wait is eternal.

Wren is in the throne. Wren is in the coat. Wren is in the dark. Wren is in the end.

The letter is folded. The letter is sealed. The seal is blue. The seal is cold. The seal is the eye. The eye is open. The eye is watching. The eye is waiting.

The end is not a end. The end is a start. The start is a trap. The trap is a cage. The cage is a heart. The heart is stone. The stone is cold. The cold is forever.

The blue remains. The blue persists. The blue endures. The blue is eternal.