A cavern…
Moonlight filtered through a narrow crevice high above, pale and distant, illuminating a slice of night sky. The air carried a scent he knew too well.
A voice broke the silence. “You’re awake.”
Rune glanced over his shoulder.
Calla stepped into view, armor scorched. Her tired gaze flicked from the chains then settled on him.
“You should not have challenged your father,” she said quietly.
Smoke curled from Rune’s nostrils with his low growl. All he had ever done was defy Elyon, and at last the God of Life responded in kind.
But why leave him alive?
Rune projected his thoughts into the link he shared with his Harbingers.Where has he bound me?
“The one place you swore never to return, sire,” said another voice. Deeper and stoic.
Hadeon emerged from the dark, followed by Deimos. His loyal generals, his Harbingers he saw die.
They lived.
Calla crossed her arms. “We are in Argyle.”
The news stole the breath from his lungs.
Alora’s homeland.
Rune lashed his tail against the wall, fractures splintering across it.He returned me to the Hollow Mountain.
Calla’s ram horns caught the edge of the light as she gave a single nod. “Karag Dûr.”
This cursed place.
He supposed Elyon couldn’t pitch him back into the Netherworld. His Gate remained sealed without his bride. Why bother to chain him here? Why not simply destroy him?
Or do worse.
Perhaps this was worse.
Rune’s eyes turned back to the shaft of moonlight above.
This wasn’t merely a prison or divine punishment.
It was torture.
The land breathed her name. It was heavy with memory. Of everything he wanted to forget.
Rune sank back to the hard ground, dust scattered around his massive form.
“How do we remove the chains?” Hadeon asked.
“We cannot,” Calla said. Her eyes lingered on the glyphs etched into the blessed metal. “The manacles, they read ‘Blood of my Blood. Soul of my soul’. Only his bride can unlock his chains.”
With Alora gone, the Heavens chose the perfect thing to subdue him.
A lock without a key.
