Attic floorboards creaked in the old house. The attic had no windows, but the rain outside could be heard pounding on the roof. The only light came from a flashlight beam held tightly in the hands of a twelve year old Roman Prince, followed closely by his brother Remus.

"Move faster," Re mumbled, shoving his brother forward a few steps.

Roman stumbled, reaching with his free hand to grab onto the nearest piece of furniture, which happened to be a stack of chairs that nearly toppled. He glared at his brother. "Careful, you're gonna get us caught!"

Despite being younger, Remus was a good few inches taller and more sports oriented, while Roman was more intellectual and artsy and all that junk. Being taller and more muscular, and being a twelve year old boy, he shoved Roman again anyway and hissed, "this was your idea, I take no blame if we get grounded."

The older rolled his eyes and crept forward, trying to avoid the louder floorboards. On the far wall was a large, ornate bookcase, filled with dusty encyclopedias and history books and journals collected by the Prince family over the years.

"Help me up," Roman said, reaching up to set the flashlight on the highest shelf he could reach before turning to his twin. Re locked his hands for him to use as a step and he climbed onto an old dresser. "Alright, hurry up," Ro whispered, reached down to help Remus climb up. Before the younger boy could grab his brother's hand, a wrinkled hand grabbed his wrist, causing him to jump backwards and nearly fall.

"What are you boys doing in the attic by yourselves?" The older man asked, adjusting his glasses and switching his gaze from one twin to the other.

Re shrugged, leaning backwards. "Sorry, Grandpa."

"Sorry," Ro echoed, grabbing his flashlight. "We just wanted to see the treasure book-"

Their grandfather snickered, reaching up to one of the higher shelves. "The 'treasure book,' huh? Alright, alright, I supposed your father was about your age when I told him this story." The book he pulled down was leather bound, yellowed with age. "Roman, the flashlight?"

Ro jumped down from the dresser and he and his brother stood, one on either side of their grandfather, while he opened the old book. The pages were handwritten in ink, in swirled, beautiful handwriting.

"This the journal of my grandfather's grandfather, and this," he flipped to a page bookmarked with ribbon, "this is what Charles Caroll, the last living signer of the Declaration of Independence, told him on his deathbed."

"I was in the carriage and Mister Caroll said to me that he needed to speak to the president, that he had something important to share. He followed by saying he wouldn't likely survive the morning. Fearing the information he held might die with him, he entrusted it to me, and said what follows: The secret lies with Charlotte. The knights have hidden it, and the secret lies with Charlotte. Keep this information, Mister Prince, and share it only with those you absolutely trust, trust with more than your life.

"After he had said these things, he passed away, departed from this world, leaving me with this information that I was sworn to protect. Given only to the president himself, I will pass it to my son and no one else, for I am unsure what exactly it is, but I believe this is the knowledge leading to something it would be horrible to let fall into the wrong hands."

"Dad are you showing them-" Janus Prince sighed, seeing his father reading to his two sons from that old journal. That damned journal. "Dad, I told you, I don't want you feeding them that garbage."

Roman looked up at his dad. "It's not garbage... is it, Grandpa?"

"Of course not."

Janus put a hand on Remus's shoulder and looked at his father, sighing. "You wasted your life looking for that treasure, Dad, and I almost wasted mine. It took me way too long to realize that it's just a story, and I don't want you letting my kids make that same mistake. There is no treasure."

Thomas sighed and put the old journal back on the shelf. "You may have given up, but I still think it's out there. And I think these boys might have what it takes to finally find it," he added, ruffling both of his grandsons' hair.

"It's just a story."

Ro bounced on his feet. "But what if it's not, Dad?"

Janus pinched the bridge of his nose. In the dim light, the birthmark and scar on one side of his face weren't clearly visible, but anyone that knew him could almost instantly tell where the lines were. The birthmark was a dark red wine stain that covered his left eye and stretched up into his hairline. A smaller mark went from the corner of his mouth to his jawline. He'd become used to his birthmark; You have no choice in the matter and you either accept it or complain. The scar on the other hand, he didn't like to talk about, and very few people mentioned it. If asked he simply said it was something that happened when he was a teenager and refuse to elaborate.

His boys had inherited his looks in many ways. Both had honey-hazel eyes, though Janus himself actually had heterochromia and only his right eye was that color. His left was more of a greenish yellow. Both had the same floppy brown hair that he'd gotten from his own father. As much as the twins looked alike, though, they weren't actually identical. They were fraternal, and there were a few subtle differences. Roman had the same freckles that their mother had, while Remus was slightly more tan, like his father.

Looking at his twins, Janus was at a crossroads. They were creative and wild and wanted adventure. When they were younger, they designed an entire kingdom that the two of them had ruled together, fighting imaginary sorcerers and demons. It didn't seem fair to tell them not to wonder if there was a possibility of the treasure.

But he also regretted the years he'd spent looking for it himself. It had been a waste. Janus didn't want them going down the same path he did.

"Ro, I never found anything. I never came close." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sure if anything's out there, though, you two will be the ones to find the Templar Treasure."