Scarlet chains

Chapter 17

*Narrated*

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The underworld was nothing like the fiery pit she'd imagined as a child.

It was quiet. Eerily quiet.

Nova walked slowly through the shifting black sands beneath her feet, glowing faintly with every step. The air pulsed around her with ancient energy. Above, an endless sky of swirling violet clouds rumbled like a heartbeat—hers.

A shadow moved.

"You finally returned," a voice whispered from the darkness. A woman stepped forward, her body half wreathed in fire, half bathed in moonlight. "Chosen by both sky and abyss. Our queen."

Nova narrowed her eyes. "I didn't ask for this."

"No," the woman smiled, "but power rarely waits for permission."

Flashes tore through Nova's mind—images of chains, glowing runes, a ritual circle. Her screams. Six years in a place that smelled of rust and herbs. A white coat. A cruel hand. Blood.

Her knees buckled.

The spirits of the realm rushed forward but did not touch her. They knelt.

"You conquered the gates," the woman said softly. "And with every memory that returns, you take back what was stolen. But beware… not all truths heal. Some burn."

Nova stood, eyes glowing Paraiba-blue. "Then let them burn."

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The realm trembled. The chains across her chest vanished into sparks. The woman bowed deeply.

"Then go, my queen," she whispered, "and tear the heavens open."

A portal flared behind Nova.

She didn't look back.

She stepped through—and the world beyond stole her breath. It was unlike anything she had imagined. The sky shimmered like fractured glass, bending light into impossible colors. Floating islands drifted in the distance, tethered by threads of pure energy. Everything felt suspended… sacred.

Then a presence.

Not footsteps. Not breath.

But the air shifted—warmer, heavier.

A voice, deep and serene, echoed around her.

*"So… you are the one they chose."*

Nova turned.

He stood on a platform of starlight, robed in shadow and silver. His crown was made of glowing thorns, and his eyes... they held galaxies.

For a moment, she couldn't speak. He wasn't terrifying. He was beautiful in the way ancient things were beautiful—untouchable.

"You're the Spirit King," she breathed.

He nodded once. "And you… are the fracture and the flame."

"I don't know what that means."

"You will."

He stepped closer, and the ground pulsed with light.

"The spirits have whispered your name since before your birth, Nova. You were never meant to be ordinary."

She swallowed. "Why am I here?"

"To remember what you are."

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The Spirit King extended his hand, palm up. Light coiled in his fingers like smoke, then surged outward, forming a swirling mirror of memory.

"Look."

Nova hesitated… then stepped forward.

The image sharpened. A child—herself—barefoot, standing between two crumbling altars. One bathed in gold. The other in endless shadow. Her hands were bound in glowing chains, her eyes glowing Paraiba Tourmaline even then.

She gasped. "That's me… but I don't remember—"

"You were taken. Hidden. Experimented on. But your soul never forgot."

The mirror vanished.

He raised his hand again—this time touching her forehead.

A pulse of energy spread through her like a thousand bells ringing at once. Voices whispered in languages she didn't know but somehow understood. Cold, heat, weightlessness—all flooded her senses.

Then silence.

When she opened her eyes, the world looked different. She could see glowing trails in the air… spirits moving in and out of her vision, some watching in awe, others bowing from a distance.

"They've accepted you," the Spirit King said. "All of them. Even the ancient ones who serve no master."

Nova staggered slightly. "This… this is too much."

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He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "And still, it is only the beginning."

Just then, the ground beneath them pulsed again—but this time it wasn't welcoming.

Something stirred far beneath the platform.

Unseen eyes opened.

He frowned, eyes darkening slightly.

"You are not safe here for long. They know you've awakened."

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