The borderlands lay quiet beneath a sky heavy with ash. To the east, an old Dominion road cut across the hills, its stones broken and half-buried in weeds. It was down that road the soldiers had marched weeks ago to seize the village—far enough from the cities that no one would care if its people vanished. Close enough for the Dominion to hold them in chains.
Now the chains were gone. Smoke rose from hearths that hadn't burned in weeks, though the warmth of freedom had not yet reached the people. Families sat together in silence, hands clutching arms and shoulders as if expecting the phantom bindings to return. The Ironhide Rhino stood near the well, horn glowing faint red, stamping the stones with steady weight. Each time it snorted, villagers flinched or stared in awe, unsure whether to fear or trust it.
When night deepened, the people gathered inside the house of Old Brenn, their village head. The room was crowded, heavy with smoke from the hearthfire. Men and women lined the walls, children curled in their parents' arms, while Brenn stood with his staff at the center. Draven and Mira stayed apart, quiet, with Joran near the flames, arms folded, eyes sharp.
Brenn's voice carried, rough but steady. "We'll speak plain. Tonight, the Dominion's shackles were broken. But we must decide what comes after."
The words hung like stones. No one spoke until a man forced himself to his feet. "If the Dominion comes back, they'll punish us worse than before."
Another muttered darkly, "They'll kill us all. You don't break Dominion chains and live."
A woman's voice rose sharp. "And what then? Crawl until we die? We all saw it—the shackles shattered, and the beast rose stronger. That truth can't be denied."
Others muttered in agreement, though fear still outweighed hope.
Brenn lifted his staff and struck the floorboards. "You think they chained us only to humiliate us? No. We were taken for something else. We were made to kneel so their shackles could be tested—on beasts, and on us."
Uneasy silence spread.
Brenn's eyes narrowed. "I heard it the day they dragged us here. Two soldiers spoke. One said the orders came from the Chainkeepers. The other warned him to hold his tongue, or lose it. I buried that truth—until now."
Gasps filled the room. A younger man whispered, "Chainkeepers…?"
Brenn nodded grimly. "The ones who forged the shackles. They don't wear Dominion colors. They stand above it. If word of this spreads, they'll come."
Fear crept like smoke through the crowded room. Mothers pulled children closer. Men clenched their fists, others lowered their heads.
Mira's voice was quiet but clear. "If that's true, this won't end here."
Draven stepped forward, his tone steady. "Then let them come. These chains won't hold. Not while I'm here."
The villagers stared at him—some in fear, some with a spark of belief. Silence held, until Brenn struck his staff one final time.
"This meeting is done. We have no easy path forward, but remember what you saw. Shackles broke. A beast rose higher. Whatever comes, no one can take that truth from us."
The people began to file out of Brenn's house. Some walked with shoulders bowed, muttering that the Dominion's vengeance would fall harder than ever. Others lingered, their eyes fixed on Draven as if trying to weigh the man against the legend already forming.
At the doorway, two young men whispered.
"Chainbreaker… do you think that's what he is?"
"Call him what you want, but I saw the chains shatter. You can't unsee that."
Mothers hushed their children, warning them never to speak too loudly of what they'd witnessed. Yet some of the younger ones repeated the word Chainbreaker without fear, their voices bright in the night.
Outside, the Ironhide Rhino stamped the earth, each strike echoing like a drum. It tossed its head, snorting loud enough to scatter sparks from the firepits. And each time someone whispered Draven's name, the beast stamped again, as though declaring the word its own.
By the time the fires burned low, the village was divided—half waiting for vengeance, half clinging to a fragile spark of hope. But one truth was certain: the story of this night would not stay here. It would walk the roads with every traveler and refugee, carried by whispers stronger than chains.
💖 Enjoying the story?
👉 Support me on Patreon: patreon.com/sa2quasar