The Binding Chamber was not built for mortals.
Its walls were carved from obsidian, etched with veins of silver that pulsed faintly like veins beneath skin. Chains hung from the ceiling like a forest of steel, swaying though there was no wind. At the center lay a circle inscribed into the floor, its runes glowing with cold fire. The air was thick, suffocating, heavy with centuries of blood and screams.
Ethan stepped inside, Shadowfang padding at his heel. The beast's golden fire burned low, subdued, yet his amber eyes gleamed with feral defiance.
The Overseers encircled the chamber, their crimson robes blending with the shadows, masks glinting faintly in the eerie light. The Master of Chains stood at the head, his voice echoing across stone.
"Ethan Vale," he intoned, "you were chosen by the chains. Today, you will be bound. If you endure, you will rise above hunters, above monsters, above mortality itself. If you fail…" He gestured to the chains above. "The links will feast upon what remains."
The circle flared brighter. Ethan's throat tightened. His chest ached with every pulse of the chains already inside him. He wanted to turn, to walk out, but Shadowfang growled low, steady, grounding him.
"I'm ready," Ethan said, though the tremor in his voice betrayed him.
The Overseers raised their hands. The runes ignited.
The world split open.
---
Fire swallowed him first. Not the warm blaze of Shadowfang's flames, but cold, gnawing fire that crawled beneath his skin. The chains writhed inside him, tearing, binding, sinking deeper into his bones.
Yield, a voice hissed, serpentine and endless. Yield, and you will never know fear again. Yield, and the world will kneel.
He staggered, falling to his knees. His vision fractured—shards of light and shadow twisting into shapes. His mother's face. His village burning. Blood soaking the earth.
We can make it vanish, the chains whispered. All pain. All weakness. Just yield.
"No," Ethan gasped, nails digging into his palms. "I won't."
The fire roared louder, punishing his defiance. He screamed, the sound raw, echoing through the chamber. His body convulsed, sweat and blood mingling on his skin.
Shadowfang howled, flames erupting around him, but invisible force lashed the beast, shackling his fire. The Overseers' runes held him back, forcing him to watch as Ethan writhed.
The vision shifted. Ethan was no longer in the chamber but standing in a wasteland of black stone, sky choked with chains stretching to infinity. Figures hung from them—hunters, beasts, nameless souls—all hollow-eyed, their bodies twitching like marionettes.
A figure emerged from the darkness. It was Ethan… but not.
Chains crawled over his double's skin like armor, eyes gleaming with silver light. When he smiled, Ethan's own face smiled back.
"You fight so hard to be free," the doppelganger said. "But freedom is a lie. Power is all that matters. With me, you won't need friends, beasts, or bonds. You will be feared. Worshiped. Eternal."
Ethan's hands shook. He could feel the truth in those words, the seductive pull of release. To stop fighting. To give in. To finally have enough strength to ensure no one he cared about would ever die again.
But then he saw Shadowfang, straining against his invisible shackles, eyes blazing with fury and loyalty. He saw Lyra, serpent coiled protectively around her arm, her fire when she told him play their game until you can break it.
His double extended a hand. "Take it, and you will never suffer again."
Ethan clenched his jaw. "I'd rather bleed than be your puppet."
He drove his fist into his double's chest. The figure burst apart, chains unraveling into dust.
The wasteland shattered.
---
Back in the chamber, Ethan's body arched as the runes blazed white. The chains screamed, thrashing, clawing at him—but they no longer controlled him. He pulled them in, not as a slave but as a wielder. The links sank into his skin, leaving behind faint glowing marks along his arms and throat.
Shadowfang roared, flames breaking through the Overseers' bindings, golden fire searing across the chamber. The beast lunged to Ethan's side, pressing his head against him, their bond blazing bright.
The ritual was over. And Ethan had not yielded.
---
When the light dimmed, silence fell.
The Overseers stared, their masks unreadable, but their silence spoke volumes. Hunters were meant to emerge broken or dead from such a ritual. Ethan stood—unsteady, bloodied, scarred—but alive.
The Master of Chains stepped forward. For the first time, his voice faltered. "Impossible."
Ethan raised his head, eyes burning with a light not wholly his own. "You wanted a weapon. You got one. But don't mistake me for your blade."
Gasps rippled through the Overseers. No one defied them, not here, not in their own chamber.
The Master's mask tilted, as if studying him anew. Then, slowly, he inclined his head. "So be it. You live. For now. But the chains are patient. They always claim what is theirs."
The Overseers departed, their robes whispering against stone.
Ethan staggered, dropping to one knee. Shadowfang pressed against him, steadying his trembling body. His chest heaved, every breath a battle, but his eyes remained fixed on the empty chamber.
For the first time, he felt it—not just the chains binding him, but his own will binding them back. It wasn't victory. Not yet. But it was survival.
And survival, in the Guild, was rebellion enough.
---
Later, in the barracks, Lyra rose the moment she saw him. Her serpent hissed, sensing the fresh scars glowing faintly along Ethan's arms.
"You survived," she whispered, almost disbelieving.
"Barely." Ethan collapsed onto his cot, Shadowfang curling protectively at his side. "But the chains… they're different now. Quieter. Almost… listening."
Lyra's gaze hardened. "Then they've made their mistake. They think they own you, but if you can bend the chains to your will…" She leaned closer, her voice fierce. "You can break them."
Ethan closed his eyes, exhaustion pulling at him, but a grim smile tugged at his lips.
"Then that's what I'll do."
Outside, dawn spilled over Blackstone Keep. The bells tolled again, but this time, Ethan did not hear the chime of chains.
He heard the first note of war.
---
Chapter End.
---