Chapter 17 – Chains Beneath the Glass

The deeper they ventured into the heart of the City of Mirrors, the more oppressive the air became. The glass towers surrounding them seemed to pulse with an unnatural energy, their reflective surfaces shifting and warping, displaying scenes that weren't their own. Kael could feel the eyes of the city on them, watching their every move, as if the city itself were alive, waiting for something—or someone—to awaken.

The girl, still cradled by Aurenya, was beginning to show signs of the instability they feared. Her skin, once a soft glow, now flickered, faint sparks of light darting beneath the surface like fireflies trapped inside a jar. Every now and then, she moaned softly, her lips trembling as though in pain, and her eyes—those unnaturally bright eyes—would stare at nothing, lost in some faraway memory or vision.

"She's slipping," Aurenya muttered, her gaze never leaving the girl's fragile form. "If we don't find the answers soon, she'll be gone."

Kael's jaw clenched. The curse in his hands—the dreaded red gleam that sometimes crawled beneath his skin like veins of burning coal—flared for a heartbeat, as if responding to Aurenya's fear. He flexed his fingers, willing the heat to still. He knew the stakes—knew that the girl's life was tied to their very survival. Without her, they had nothing. Without her, he had no hope of facing whatever dark force lurked at the edges of their journey.

"Keep moving," he urged, his voice tight. The weight of the city pressed harder against him than before, and his hands tingled again—scarlet threads of energy whispering beneath his skin. "We need to get to the center of the city. Whatever lies there, it holds the key to what's happening to her."

They continued down a winding path, the shards of glass crunching beneath their boots. The city, though beautiful in its haunting way, had a malevolent edge to it, a sense of death lingering in the air like a promise. The further they walked, the more distorted the reflections became. Faces that weren't theirs appeared in the mirrored surfaces—some familiar, others alien—smiling, crying, reaching out with their hands as though trying to grab them.

Kael's gaze darted to every surface, every glimmer of light that might hide an enemy. His hands twitched at his sides, a subtle burn creeping into his palms again, the curse never fully resting in this place. Every corner, every shadow seemed to pulse with hidden dangers—and his cursed blood sensed them before his mind did.

"There," Aurenya said suddenly, breaking the tense silence. She pointed ahead, where a massive structure loomed. It was a temple—or at least, what remained of one. Its once grand entrance was now a jagged arch of broken stone and twisted metal, and the remnants of pillars lay scattered like fallen bones across the ground. At the center of the ruined structure was a pedestal, upon which rested two massive chains—one broken, the other still whole, its links glowing faintly with a light that made Kael's blood run cold.

"That's it," Aurenya whispered, her voice shaking slightly. "Those chains… they were meant to hold gods."

Kael frowned, his hand instinctively drifting to his sword, though his hands throbbed as if warning him otherwise. "What do you mean 'hold gods'? These aren't ordinary chains."

"No," Aurenya replied softly, her expression distant as she stared at the broken chain. "They were forged by the gods themselves, to keep their own kind locked away. One of them was broken… and that's why everything here is… wrong."

Kael's pulse quickened. His left hand flared red beneath his glove, a warning pang that crawled all the way to his elbow. "And the other?"

Aurenya's eyes narrowed as she looked at the intact chain, its light pulsing rhythmically, as if alive. "It's still holding something."

They stepped cautiously toward the chains, the air growing heavier with each step. The girl whimpered in Aurenya's arms, her tiny form growing weaker by the second.

"We need to get her to the center of the city," Kael urged, his voice urgent. The curse within him responded again to the girl's pain—it always did, like it recognized a kindred instability. "She's dying."

"I know," Aurenya said quietly, her eyes flickering between the broken chain and the girl. "But these chains... they're a part of her, too. She might be the key to unlocking whatever's being held here."

Kael looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?"

Aurenya hesitated before speaking, her voice low. "I remember now. The girl… she's not just a creation. She's something more. She was made to hold something—something dangerous."

Kael's stomach tightened. The burning in his hands intensified, the color beneath his gloves now faintly visible—deep crimson glowing like molten iron. "Hold what?"

Aurenya looked at the intact chain, her expression darkening. "A god. A god of judgment."

Kael's breath caught in his throat. "A god of judgment? You mean—"

"Not just any god. The god who once sat on the throne here, in the City of Mirrors," Aurenya finished. "And the one who is still bound by these chains. The girl was meant to hold it... but something happened. She broke free of her purpose."

They stood before the chains, the flickering light from the intact one casting eerie shadows across the room. Kael could feel something ancient, something powerful, stirring in the air around them. The curse in his blood twisted like a living thing, as though it knew its master had come close to something terrible.

"What happens if the god is freed?" Kael asked, his voice a whisper.

Aurenya's face grew pale. "The Hollow King wants to free that god. He wants to use its power. If that happens, nothing in this world will be able to stop him."

Kael's mind raced. The Hollow King. The force that had been hunting them for so long. The one who had set this entire cursed path in motion.

He turned to the girl, whose eyes were now wide and unblinking, her tiny body trembling violently in Aurenya's arms. Her power—the one that had kept them all alive until now—was faltering.

The girl let out a soft cry, her voice distant, as though speaking from another place entirely. "Free me again, Red Hand."

Kael froze.

The voice—the tone—it was unmistakable. The voice that had come from the broken chain, from the depths of something ancient. His hands pulsed violently, the red glow bursting forth from beneath his gloves in jagged, lightning-like veins. The curse reacted like it was being summoned.

"Kaelion," the voice whispered, the name slipping from the broken chain like a dark curse.

He reached out, his hand trembling as he touched the broken chain. A surge of energy coursed through his arm, and the world around him twisted. Fire bloomed beneath his skin. His cursed hand—the mark of the Red Hand—seared with uncontainable heat, the energy writhing like it recognized the broken god it had once served.

"Kael!" Aurenya called sharply, her voice strained. "Get away from it!"

But it was too late.

A low, guttural sound echoed through the chamber, and Kael felt something in his chest break. His knees buckled. The cursed blood inside him burned with terrifying clarity.

The god—the one that had been trapped here—was awake.