Chainslock

COMPLETED.

(WARNING: R18 on chapter 200+ onwards. This is a SLOW BURN ROMANCE. Read at your own risk.)

**

On a secluded mountain situated upon a kingdom known as Feuersturm, resides a seemingly trifling cabin with an unlikely duo as its inhabitant—a witch, and her apprentice who presumably comes from a clan sought after by slave traders. 

Faustina is a sixteen-year-old girl who fled the slave market with the help of a sickly witch named Eula, who later on trained her as an apprentice for the span of seven years. 

Plagued with a mysterious disease for several years, Eula died despite the efforts Faustina had exerted to cure her; in her last breath, she left an odd request behind. 

"Sustain the king's life. This is your duty. Do not adhere to the prophecy."

To which the odd plea shadowed a bizarre series of events, a consequential sentence; similar to that of a premonition. The same night the phrase was muttered, the chain of events followed:

A warlock's intrusion to their home, with a peculiar yearning to resurrect Eula from the dead...

and the king himself, asking for Faustina’s aid.

Sustaining the King's Life

Days passed after waking up from slumber, Faustina found herself in the Feuerlon manor. Her appearance was the first thing that she found different, and she could not help herself but to look at her distinct grey hair identical to that of the duchess who was now her "mother".


Her brothers were now the Feuerlon siblings who seemed to be too comfortable with her, completely unaware of the situation. Everyone in the manor seemed to worry about her health more than she do—and she could expect nothing less of it. 


Faustina now remembers what happened the past few days she woke up.


The altered memories. The king's conspiracy. The Forsaken.


She remembered her purpose—and she stood firm as she remembered her duty. What the king told her. 


Although it is a lot hazier and everything is still a puzzle for her, Faustina realized that she could not go idle anymore. If she desires answers, she could do nothing but move forward. No one will hand her the answers, or baby her. 


The Central Harbor