POV: Cain
I wake up screaming.
Pain explodes through every nerve in my body. The shadow chains are tighter than ever, burning with black fire that sears down to my bones. This is my punishment for what happened in the courtyard.
For letting her touch me. For feeling hope.
I deserve this.
I stumble out of bed and collapse against the wall, gasping. The chains pulse and writhe, angry and alive. They know. They always know when I start to feel anything good.
She's just another condemned criminal, I tell myself through gritted teeth. She'll be dead in three days. Stop caring.
But I can't stop thinking about her golden light. The way her touch felt warm, healing, like sunlight breaking through three hundred years of darkness.
No one has ever touched me without screaming in pain. No one.
Until Sera.
I force myself to stand and climb the stairs to my tower. Up here, I can see everything the obsidian gates, the city of Valendris glowing in the distance, the Wild Lands stretching endlessly around my prison.
This is my world. Has been for three centuries. Alone. Always alone.
The chains finally ease their punishment. I can breathe again.
I stare at my hands, remembering the moment Sera grabbed my wrist. The golden light that exploded from her palms. The way the curse recoiled, like it was afraid of her.
Impossible, I whisper.
But I know what she is. I've seen it before.
Lyra. Her mother. Twenty-four years ago, she came to this fortress with the same golden light in her hands. The same determination in her eyes. She was a curse-breaker, she told me. She could undo dark magic.
She tried to break my curse for six months. Got closer than anyone ever had. And it killed her for it.
I held her as she died in the courtyard, her blood staining the stones. Tell my daughter I'm sorry, she whispered with her last breath. Tell Sera to run far away from this place.
I never got the chance to deliver that message. And now her daughter is here, trapped in the same death sentence her mother faced.
History repeating itself. Like a curse within a curse.
Footsteps echo on the tower stairs.
I know it's her before she even speaks. I can feel her presence now warm and bright, like a flame in the darkness.
I need to talk to you, Sera says, stepping onto the tower platform.
I don't turn around. There's nothing to talk about.
My mother was here, she says, ignoring me. Twenty-four years ago. Her name was Lyra Ashford.
The name hits me like a punch to the chest. I turn slowly.
Sera stands there, her mother's journal clutched in her hands. She looks so much like Lyra the same stubborn chin, the same fierce eyes. But where Lyra's eyes were green, Sera's are golden. Like her magic.
You knew her, Sera says. It's not a question.
Yes. My voice comes out rough. She was kind. Brilliant. She tried to break my curse for six months. I begged her to stop, told her it was impossible, but she wouldn't give up.
What happened to her? Sera asks, though I can see she already knows.
The magic killed her, I say quietly. Right there, in the courtyard where you found me last night. I held her as she died. She asked me to tell you to run. To never come here.
Tears fill Sera's eyes. She wrote about you in her journal. She said she failed, but she got close. And she said I inherited her gift.
You're a curse-breaker, I say. Understanding crashes over me. That's why your touch doesn't hurt.
Will you tell me about the curse? Sera steps closer. Everything? Because I'm going to break it.
No. The word comes out sharper than I intend. Your mother tried and died. I won't watch another Ashford woman destroy herself for me.
I'm not asking your permission, Sera says, her voice strong. I'm going to do this whether you help me or not. But it would be easier if you tell me the truth.
I stare at her this brave, stubborn girl who has no idea what she's asking for. Part of me wants to throw her out of my tower. Part of me wants to tell her everything.
The part that wants to hope wins.
Fine, I sigh. I'll tell you everything.
We sit on the cold stone floor as twilight settles over the Wild Lands. And I tell her my story.
Three hundred years ago, I was a prince. I had a kingdom, a family, a future. Then my younger brother murdered our parents to steal the throne. In my rage and grief, I made a deal with a dark god one who promised me the power for revenge.
The god gave me immortal strength. I destroyed my brother's army, reclaimed the throne. But the god demanded payment.
This is your curse, the god said. You will guard the gate between worlds for eternity. You will never touch another person without causing them agony. Any moment of happiness will be punished. Any hope will be crushed. You will live forever, alone, watching everyone you could love suffer because of you.
Why? Sera asks, anger burning in her voice. Why would a god do something so cruel?
Because this god hates love, I say bitterly. The curse was designed to make sure I'd never have it. I'd watch others live and love and die, but I'd remain here. Forever. Alone.
That's not a curse, Sera says fiercely. That's torture.
It's both. The chains pulse, warning me not to hope. Your mother discovered the only way to break it. Someone has to willingly sacrifice their life for me. Trade their mortality for my immortality. She tried to do exactly that.
And it killed her, Sera whispers.
Yes. The word tastes like ash. The curse won't let itself be broken. It fights back. Always.
Sera is quiet for a long moment. Then she stands, determination blazing in her golden eyes.
My mother got close. That means there's something she missed. Some other option.
There isn't
I'm going to break your curse, Cain, Sera says. I promise you that.
Don't promise me anything, I snap, standing up. The chains tighten, making me wince. Don't hope for me. Don't try to save me. Just survive your fifty days and leave.
Why? Sera demands. Why do you want to suffer forever?
I don't want to suffer! The words explode out of me. But I've accepted it. I've made peace with it. And I can't I WON'T watch you die like your mother did. Do you understand?
We're standing very close now. Close enough that I can see gold flecks in her eyes. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her skin.
I understand you're scared, Sera says softly. Scared to hope. Scared to trust. Scared that if you let yourself believe, the curse will punish you worse.
She's right. She sees right through me.
But I'm not my mother, Sera continues. I'm stronger. And I'm not going to die here. I'm going to break this curse and set you free. Whether you believe it or not.
The chains explode with pain. I gasp and fall to my knees, the black fire consuming me. This is what happens when I hope. This is my punishment.
Through the agony, I hear Sera drop beside me. What do I do? How do I help?
You can't, I gasp. Just leave me alone.
No. Her hands hover over my chains, glowing faintly with golden light. I'm not leaving you.
The pain suddenly eases. Not completely, but enough to breathe. I look up and see Sera's hands pressed against the shadow chains. She's channeling her curse-breaker magic into them, fighting them back.
Stop, I rasp. You'll make it worse
I don't care, Sera says stubbornly. I'm helping you whether you like it or not.
And despite everything, despite three hundred years of suffering and loneliness and pain, I feel something dangerous bloom in my chest.
Hope.
The chains sense it. They tighten viciously, trying to rip Sera away from me. But she holds on, her magic blazing brighter.
Let. Him. Go, she grits out, as if the curse can understand her.
For one impossible moment, the chains actually loosen.
Then they fight back with everything they have.
Black fire erupts from them, knocking Sera backward. She hits the tower wall hard and slides down, gasping.
Sera! I lunge toward her, but the chains yank me back.
She looks up at me, blood trickling from her temple. I'm okay, she says, though she's clearly not.
This is why you need to stop, I say desperately. The curse will kill you. Just like it killed your mother.
Sera wipes blood from her face and stands on shaky legs. Then I'll find a way to fight it that your mother didn't think of.
She stumbles toward the stairs, clearly dizzy but refusing to show weakness.
Sera, wait
She pauses at the top of the stairs and looks back at me. I read my mother's journal cover to cover. She wrote that the curse feeds on your guilt and self-hatred. As long as you believe you deserve to suffer, it stays strong.
My chest tightens. What are you saying?
I'm saying the first step to breaking this curse isn't magic, Sera says. It's making you believe you deserve to be free. And I'm going to do exactly that.
She disappears down the stairs before I can respond.
I stand alone in my tower, the chains still burning, but something has changed.
For three hundred years, I've believed I deserved this curse. That I earned it through my rage and violence and mistakes.
But Sera doesn't believe that. She looks at me and sees someone worth saving.
Maybe she's right. Or maybe she's a fool who'll die trying.
Either way, she's given me something I haven't felt in three centuries: hope that maybe, just maybe, this nightmare can end.
And that hope is the most dangerous thing of all.
I'm still standing in the tower when I hear it.
Voices. Multiple voices. Coming from inside the fortress.
My blood runs cold. No one can enter the Wild Lands without passing through the gates. And the gates are sealed.
Unless someone has the key.
I race down the tower stairs, following the voices. They're coming from the underground chambers the place where the curse's anchor is hidden.
I burst into the chamber and freeze.
High Priest Aldric stands in the center, holding a glowing orb. Around him, temple guards secure the room. And chained to the wall, bleeding and unconscious, is Sera.
Ah, Guardian, Aldric says with a cold smile. So good of you to join us. I was just explaining to young Sera why she's truly here.
Let her go, I growl, my hands curling into fists.
Oh, I will, Aldric says. After she serves her purpose. You see, I've been feeding off your curse for twenty years, using its power to strengthen my magic. But lately, it's been weakening. I need it reinforced.
He gestures to Sera's unconscious form. Curse-breaker blood can make your curse permanent. Unbreakable. Eternal. And this girl is going to help me do exactly that.
Horror floods through me. You're insane.
I'm practical, Aldric corrects. Her mother refused to help me, so I had to kill her. But I'm giving Sera a choice: strengthen your curse and save your life, or refuse and watch you die slowly while I extract the curse from your corpse.
He pulls out a ritual knife, glowing with dark magic.
Either way, Aldric smiles, I win. And you, Guardian, will suffer forever.