Sir Hiss and the Copper Silence of Bellundra

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In the copper-clad alleys of Bellundra, where the rooftops whispered and even the doorknobs seemed to hold secrets, Sir Hiss crept with the gait of one who knew he was being watched—and enjoyed it. His cape brushed the cobblestones as if it had a life of its own, and the brass buckle on his belt was adjusted to "bold but charming." Beside him trotted a hooded raccoon—his longtime accomplice, known only as Schlitz. Schlitz, as always, carried his collection of keys on a silent ring—some sparkling like star fragments, others dull with stories. Bellundra was in turmoil. The voice of the great clock choir had fallen silent. Every night, at the stroke of midnight, the giant speaking bell atop the clock tower had called a single word to the city. They were said to be fragments of an ancient song. But for seven nights: nothing. Not a sound. No echo. Only silence—and that was dangerous in Bellundra. "Copper silence," Hiss murmured, producing a golden cigarette holder from his sleeve and then vanishing it again. "Something stole her voice. And I'll bet my plumed hat it's no accident." Schlitz growled in agreement, glancing at the bronze clockwork that bloomed on the wall above them like a flower of gears. A flower that seemed wilted. The trail led them to the depths of the Sound Aquarium beneath the clock tower—a hidden archive of bells, soundboards, and sung metal. There lay the first clue: a broken tuning bell with a symbol carved into it—a weeping eye. Made of copper. "The Sound Thief of Rilhaan," Hiss whispered. "I was hoping she was still in the Sound Prison." They did it as they always did: with tricks, with sounds, with deception. Hiss spoke a melody backward, Schlitz picked the silenced lock with a tuning fork. And deep in the bowels of the city, they found her—the thief, in a cage of still air. Her lips moved, but no sound emerged. And in her hand: the heart of the bell. Encased in copper resin. Sir Hiss leaned forward. "You stole it because you wanted to be forgotten. But silence is also a song—and I play better than you think." He offered her a deal. A melody no one knew. One he had once overheard from a mirror listening to the future. In exchange for the heart of the bell—and one final whisper. She accepted. As midnight tolled, the bell sang again. And in its tone, there was something new—a shimmering echo of deception, of cunning... of Hiss. He and Schlitz disappeared before anyone asked how they had broken the silence. For the true copper was not the metal—but the coin with which a trickster pays for his silence.