Anonymous
The chamber was drowned in shadow.
Seven black candles guttered around the altar, their violet flames writhing like serpents, casting twisted silhouettes across the walls. The ancient symbols carved into the stone floor pulsed faintly, as though they remembered every curse ever carved into them.
At the altar's center lay a single naga scale.
Bluish-black.
Alive.
Waiting.
The hooded man reached for it with reverence that felt wrong, his fingers brushing the surface as though caressing a lover.
"My prince…" His voice was low, almost tender.
"…you cannot hide from me."
The scale shimmered faintly, a flicker of gold, before falling still.
He drew a bone-handled knife across his thumb. Blood welled, thick and dark, and fell onto the scale.
It hissed.
The candles guttered violently. Black smoke erupted, curling upward like a living thing before sinking into his flesh. His veins blackened, crawling with shadow. The chamber grew colder, the air heavy with the stench of iron and rot.
He began to chant. The words were jagged, guttural, a language that had long since disappeared from the world, each word heavier than the last. Each syllable dragged the air tighter, pressing against the walls.
"I call upon the bond that flesh remembers."
His hand pressed against the scale, leaving a crimson smear.
"I call upon the heart that beats beyond my sight."
The altar trembled. Invisible threads of black magic burst from the scale, writhing outward like roots clawing through the earth.
For a moment, nothing.
Then — one thread snapped taut.
The man's smile widened, slow and cruel.
"There you are."
He closed his eyes, feeling the distant heartbeat through the lingering connection left within the discarded scale. Steady. Strong. Kael's.
His voice dropped to a whisper, thick with possession.
"You thought you were free."
His fingers curled. The threads obeyed. They wrapped around that heartbeat — not gently, but like talons.
The man's hand tightened into a fist.
Hundreds of miles away, the spell reached its target.
The spell sank into him, invisible claws gripping his heart. Pain pulsed with every beat, sharp and merciless.
The hooded man sighed, savoring the falter in Kael's rhythm.
"Yes…"
"You bleed for me still."
His thumb traced the naga scale, tender as a lover's touch.
"You have forgotten my hand."
He leaned closer, voice dripping with hunger.
"I shall remind you."
The darkness pressed deeper. Not enough to claim him. Not yet. Only enough to leave its mark. Enough to make his heart ache. Enough to whisper into the corners of his soul:
Return.
Return to me.
The man's eyes snapped open, gleaming with madness.
"They call it love."
He laughed — low, hollow, chilling.
"I call it dominion."
With one final squeeze of his fist, the threads buried themselves deeper into Kael's heart before vanishing.
The candles extinguished in unison.
Silence.
Only the naga scale remained, its golden glow flickering weakly… struggling against the darkness clawing to claim it.