A boy, no older than 14, lifts his head up from the penceive. Angry tears glisten in his ice blue eyes, his brown fringe pasted to his forehead.

He found his family's penceive in a hidden chamber at his school. The grandson of the boy in the penceive had left it there, hoping it would be found one day and not be destroyed.

The boy looks down at the clear surface of the water and hates just a tiny bit more than he used to.