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Chapter 2

Selestina

I wake up to the first light of dawn filtering through the broken shutters in my room. Every muscle in my body protests as I try to sit up. The aftermath of last night’s beating reminds me of each blow. Diego’s fists were relentless and Alexander’s fire had been agony. I groan and run a hand through my tangled hair, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

While we are all loyal to Alexander, mainly because our lives depend on it, Diego is completely and utterly loyal to Alexander because he believes what Alexander does is just. Almost like he enjoys doling out punishments.

Gritting my teeth, I push myself to my feet and slowly make my way to the sink. The water stings as I splash it on my face, but it helps clear the haziness clogging my brain. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the cracked mirror. Dark circles are under my eyes, a split lip, and bruises mar my skin. The marks on my neck blend in with the other bruises and cuts that have made my skin their home. Just an ordinary day here in Tonalli.

I change into clean clothes, wincing as I pull my shirt over my sore ribs, and strap on my weapons. The mask that clings to my face as I secure it in place, feels heavier than usual, but I leave it on. It’s both a shield and a reminder of my place in Alexander’s world.

I leave my room and navigate the narrow, winding streets to Alexander’s mansion; he has one in each kingdom. While he spends the majority of his time at the Citadel, he would much rather spend his time in his wealth and not the hole he makes us live in. The city is just waking up, merchants setting up their stalls and early risers going about their business. Nobody looks in my direction. Everyone is too busy doing whatever they need to do at this hour.

The guards at the mansion’s gate nod at me in recognition as I approach. I walk through the grand entrance and down the long and dimly lit corridor to Alexander’s office. The heavy wooden door looms ahead. I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and knock.

“Enter,” Alexander says, cold and commanding.

I push the door open and step inside. Alexander sits behind his massive desk, a ledger open before him. He looks up, his piercing eyes scrutinizing me. Diego stands to his right, his face a mask of barely concealed disdain. Prick.

“Selestina,” Alexander says, his voice like a blade. “You look…worse for wear.”

“Good morning to you too,” I reply, my tone flat.

Alexander’s lips twitch in an evil smile. “I don’t trust you.” His tone is sharp and to the point. “But you’re still going to Obsidian Academy.”

I swallow hard, my mind racing.

Obsidian Academy is where every twenty-two-year-old in Tonalli is sent to learn, to train, to be molded into something useful for the kingdom. The academy basically finds the best among the best and that’s how you’re placed in society. His assassins have attended throughout the centuries. They always perform well or are given orders not to. It doesn’t matter where they’re placed, because we are already on loan from Alexander, whether the academy knows it or not. Attending the academy is a sacred law that even Alexander can’t break.

“You will continue to do missions for me while you’re there,” Alexander continues, his eyes never wavering from mine. “You’ll report back regularly, and you’ll complete any tasks or missions I assign.”

I nod, the weight of his words sitting heavy on my shoulders. “Understood.”

“Good. Tonight, you’ll attend the masquerade with me,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “You’ll be by my side, dressed in your leathers and mask. Make sure they’re cleaned.” He scrunches his nose in disgust as he looks me up and down.

I have to bite back the scoff and urge to roll my eyes.

The masquerade ball. The event where the elite of Tonalli gather to flaunt their wealth and power. And I’ll be there, a symbol of Alexander’s ruthlessness. “I’ll be ready,” I reply, my voice steady.

Alexander nods. “You’re dismissed.”

I turn and leave Alexander’s study, his voice still echoing in my ears like a dark promise. As I walk, the pain surges with each movement, but I force myself to block it out, to bury it deep because what choice do I have? I have to be strong tonight. I have to be Tonalli’s most feared killer, a weapon of Alexander’s creation.

Back in my room, I start the familiar ritual of preparing my leathers. The black lace and layered enchantments on my mask give off a soft glow to anyone looking close enough. Each thread is sewn with magic to obscure my face. My fingers work methodically, the movements precise, the repetition grounding me even as my mind drifts.

My mind pulls me back to the beginning, to the lessons Alexander seared into me. Every one of them rooted in pain, in history, in control. “Tonalli no es para debiles,” he would say, his voice cold as the winter’s first breath. “Only the strong survive. Only those who know what they are willing to sacrifice.” His words were usually followed by his fists or his fire. Each mistake, my misstep in Tonalli’s history or a failure to understand the politics of the realm, were met with another blow, until the very bones of the kingdom were drilled into me as deeply as the scars etched across my skin.

Tonalli is split into five territories, each isolated by the Dark Forest, a deadly expanse of twisted trees, illusions, and creatures that do not want you to make it out alive. At the heart of Tonalli, stands Obsidian Academy, the single place where the kingdoms connect. A fragile link between lands that has spent lifetimes divided, guarded by rulers as powerful as the gods they worship.

Tepetl, the Kingdom of Fire, is a land shaped by volcanoes and eternal dawn. It’s home to the fierce naguals—immortal shapeshifters ruled by the mighty dragon king, Xiuhtecuhtli. In contrast, the stone carved realm of Itzcalli harbors enduring vampires under the enigmatic Rey Tezcatlipoca, while Atlacoya, the Water Kingdom, teems with witches and mages whose magic flows like the tides, ruled by Rey Chalchiuhtotolin. In Metztli, the Kingdom of Night, demonios lurk, their shadowed domain ruled by the silent and calculating Rey Itztli. Finally, Xochitlalpan, the Earth Kingdom, overflows with life, where the fae, as wild as the land itself, follow the wisdom of Rey Huehueteotl, whose voice is said to stir the very trees.

These kingdoms hate each other. Each king always thinks they are ten steps ahead of the other, and battles between neighboring territories break out more often than not. Yet only in one place are they forced to coexist: Obsidian Academy. I close my eyes, the thought of that place makes me both excited and scared.

Built on the ruins of the old capital, the Academy is the only place where Tonalli’s divided peoples are drawn together, held by a law older than any king’s rule. It’s a brutal, unforgiving place, where every student is forced to endure the Academy’s trials, to face the dangers that lurk within its walls. I imagine the massive gates, forged from blackened iron, swinging open only for those summoned at twenty-two, and the thought of stepping through them sends a shiver down my spine.

Alexander’s voice haunts my thoughts again, cold and cutting as a winter’s wind. “Tell me of Mictlantecuhtli and Coyolxauhqui,” he would demand, his tone a knife’s edge. The gods of Tonalli, Mictlantecuhtli, the god of death, and Coyolxauhqui, the goddess of the moon, had once ruled over this land, their powers entwined, until their war shattered the realm. Their battle tore through Tonalli, leaving behind five fractured kingdoms and a legacy of bitterness that seeped into the bones of the land itself. The Academy, built on the remnants of that ancient war, still holds traces of their power.

Humans live in all five kingdoms, though their roles and lives vary wildly depending on where they are. Some humans are of importance, scholars, advisors, warriors whose skill or knowledge earns them a sliver of respect among the Tonalocas. But for most of us, we’re little more than background noise in a world dominated by beings who outlive us by centuries. The Tonalocas see us as fleeting, fragile things, like leaves swept up in a windstorm. They tolerate us, sometimes even use us, but rarely do they see us as equals.

I feel the weight of that truth every day. I’m human, and no mask or dagger can hide it, no matter how hard I try to prove otherwise. To the Tonalocas, I’m just a life that will extinguish long before they even begin to feel the years press against them. Insignificant. Replaceable.

My hands clench around my mask, my fingers tracing the threads of magic embedded within it. I can feel the weight of Alexander’s expectations pressing on me, a reminder that my life, my every action, is still under his control.

Tonight, he’ll parade me at the masquerade, a reminder of his power, a shadow in a room of light. And soon enough, I’ll be bound to Obsidian Academy, a puppet in his game, forced to balance the ruthless politics of the five kingdoms while carrying out his orders in secret. I slip on the mask, its weight both a comfort and a curse.

In the mirror’s dim reflection, I see myself. The Shadow Reaper, not a girl, not broken, but a weapon forged in pain and honed to a deadly edge. As I stare at my reflection, I know one thing. I’ll survive. I have to. The Academy may try to break me, Alexander may try to own me, but I am Tonalli’s assassin, and that is a title no one can take from me.

The carriage wheels clatter against the stone streets of Tepetl, the rhythmic sound blending with the distant hum of the city. The Citadel, nestled between the bustling outer city and the polished noble district, feels like a gateway, bridging the chaos of the common folk with the elegance of the elite. From the moment we roll past its gates, the world begins to change.

In the distance, the peaks of the volcanoes rise, beautiful as they are deadly. They would almost seem like serene mountains if not for the constant reminder of their destructive potential. Yet the people of Tepetl move through their lives as if the threat doesn’t exist, trusting in the ancient spells that hold back the volcanoes’ wrath. It’s a delicate balance, fire and life coexisting, a beauty born from the brink of annihilation.

The streets are wide here, lined with lanterns with flames of enchanted blue. Vendors with carts of fruit and goods have long since disappeared, replaced by carriages and finely dressed figures walking arm-in-arm. The people of Tepetl are as striking as their city—bronzed skin kissed by the relentless heat of the kingdom, hair woven with threads of gold and crimson, and garments that shimmer like liquid fire. Nobles, mainly Tonalacas, pass by with regal ease, their laughter ringing out like silver bells, with no care in the world. Naguals are always on alert. It’s their inner animal, their inner predator.

Alexander sits opposite me, silent but watchful. I can feel his gaze on me but I refuse to look back. He doesn’t care about the beauty of Tepetl or the splendor of its people. His focus is singular. I glance at his hands, relaxed on his lap, though I know they’re anything but idle.

As the carriage rolls deeper into the noble district, the air changes. It’s richer here, tinged with the scent of jasmine and burning incense, carried on a breeze. The buildings grow even grander, their windows of stained glass catching the fading light and splashing rainbows onto the polished streets. Balconies overflow with vibrant flowers imported from Xochitlalpan, since not much grows here.

The carriage slows, the clatter of wheels giving way to the crunch of gravel as we approach the grand palace where the masquerade will be held. Its silhouette rises before us, a masterpiece of firestone and obsidian, its spires reaching toward the darkening sky. Lanterns light the entrance, their flames dancing in the breeze.

As we come to a stop, Alexander moves first, as always. His hand rests lightly on my shoulder as I step out beside him, a subtle reminder of the control he wields. I take a deep breath, the scent of the jasmine mingling with a light trace of ash, and steel myself for what’s to come.

The masquerade may be a celebration for some, but for me, and I’m sure many others, it’s a political battlefield. And like the volcanoes that surround Tepetl, the fire inside me burns just as fiercely, wishing for a moment to erupt.

Eyes turn towards us, whispers spreading like wildfire. I feel the weight of their gazes, their curiosity, their fear, but I remain calm, my mask firmly in place, both literally and figuratively.

“Remember your place,” Alexander murmurs in my ear, his voice a dark promise. “Tonight, you are mine .”