They reached the old shrine by dusk.
Hidden in the throat of a canyon where wind howled like a grieving mother, the Sanctum of Chains was not marked on any map. Not even Kael knew how he found it.
The Mark guided him.Or something within it.A whisper not his own. A pull older than hunger.
Iris was wary.
"Kael... you're sure it's not a trap?"
"No," he admitted. "But I feel something. Beneath the stone. Something waiting."
"Waiting… or watching?"
They descended the crumbling steps. Vines crawled over statues of forgotten gods, their eyes hollow and mournful. Ancient chains hung from the walls, as thick as a man's thigh. Some were broken. Some… still strained.
"This place gives me nightmares," Iris muttered.
Kael didn't respond.
Because he heard it now—a voice. Echoing from below, whispering his name in a language older than war.
The sanctum's heart was a cathedral of ruin.
There, bound in a cage of burning runes and ghost-metal, knelt a god.
Not a grand being with wings and crowns—no. This one looked human. Wounded. Beautiful and terrible.
Eyes like molten silver. Skin etched with divine scars.And a mouth that smiled like it knew how you would die.
Kael's breath caught. The Mark on his chest pulsed violently.
The god opened his eyes.
"Ah… child of fire. You came."
"What… are you?" Kael asked, voice strained.
"I was called many names. But your ancestors knew me as Askaris, the God of Chains. The Binder of Realms. The Betrayed Flame."
Kael stepped closer, despite Iris's protests.
"Why am I here?"
"Because I've waited centuries for someone like you. Someone with the Mark. Someone abandoned, broken… angry."
Kael's fists clenched.
"You think I'm angry?"
"You think you're not?"
The god's voice was soft. Tempting. A thread of silk wrapped around blades.
"Your Empire lies. Your bloodline is cursed. And the gods—your gods—are not gone. Merely imprisoned. Like me."
"Who did this to you?"
"Your Emperor's ancestors. The ones who feared power they couldn't control. They chained us beneath the world and rewrote history."
Kael looked to the runes—so old they hurt to read.Each one burned with silent screams.
"So what do you want from me?" Kael asked.
"Not your soul," Askaris smiled. "Just your trust. Free me… and I will show you the truth. About your birth. Your blood. The real reason they branded you."
"And what will you do once you're free?"
"Burn the liars. Unmake the chains. Set the world right."
Iris stepped forward, blade drawn.
"Kael, no. You can't trust this thing."
"He's a god."
"He's a liar," she snapped. "They always are."
Askaris laughed.
"And your Emperors aren't?"
Kael looked back and forth between them.Iris—his anchor to the past.Askaris—the key to power, to answers.
He wanted to walk away. He tried.
But the Mark seared with unbearable heat. And then—
He remembered something.
A flash—his mother screaming. A man in armor holding him down.The same runes. The same cage.A baby marked. A god's blood stolen.
He had been here before.
Kael fell to his knees.
"They used you," he whispered. "Used me. I'm not just cursed. I'm a piece of you."
Askaris smiled wider now. A cruel, proud thing.
"Now you see. You're not just a child of men… you're the son of fire and ruin."
"You're my legacy."
Kael reached out.
The moment his hand touched the cage, the runes exploded in fire. Iris screamed. Light poured into Kael's veins, rewriting every fiber of him.
A memory not his own crashed into his mind—
A war between gods and mortals.
Betrayal at the gates of the Divine Spire.
Chains forged from dead stars.
A prophecy: "The one who bears the Mark will choose who dies—the gods, or the world."
Kael collapsed. Askaris remained caged—but the runes had faded slightly.
"A beginning," the god whispered.
"We're bound now, Kael Draven. You and I."
"And soon… the Empire will learn what it means to abandon its blood."