Scarlet chains

Chapter 20----Queen of the unwanted

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*Nova's POV — The Hollow Fortress*

The air was thick. Not with fog, but something worse. Dread. It slithered over my skin like cold oil.

My eyes fluttered open, my body aching. I was no longer in the Spirit King's glass realm.

Dark walls surrounded me—ancient stone pulsing with symbols that seemed to move on their own. I sat up slowly. My hands were shackled, not with iron, but magic. Cold, crawling magic that numbed my powers.

"Welcome, Queen of the Unwanted," a voice hissed from the shadows. It wasn't loud, but it pierced my bones.

She looked up.

Dozens of cloaked figures stood in a wide circle. In the center, just beyond them, was a raised dais where Lucinda stood—grinning.

"You...!?"

"You should thank me," Lucinda said with a tilt of her head. "They wanted your blood. I gave them your chains."

I tried to summon light, darkness, anything—but nothing came. The artifact bound to my soul shimmered faintly on my chest, betraying my power.

The Spirit King stepped forward behind Lucinda, expression unreadable.

"You lied to me," I whispered.The cruel cold reality of betrayal clear and unmistakable.

"No," he said calmly. "I guided you to your truth. This... is who you are meant to be."

"You're wrong."I said angrily

"Am I? Then break your chains."he said smugly

I tried. The pain was instant, sharp, like my soul was being torn apart from the inside. I collapsed again, panting.

"Don't feel bad," Lucinda said softly. "Even gods kneel here."

I clenched my fists, rage boiling inside. "When I get out of here… you'll regret chaining me."

"Good," Lucinda replied. "Let that hate grow."

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I thrashed against the invisible restraints holding me down. My screams echoed through the vast obsidian chamber, but the Cultists stood still—hooded, chanting in unison.

The Spirit King stepped forward, no longer cloaked in warmth but draped in void-black robes. His eyes were hollow.

"You hold power too great for an unshaped mind," he said softly. "So we'll give you peace… silence the noise."

A crystalline crown hovered above my head, carved from soulglass. With a silent command, it descended onto me, piercing through memory and mind.All my memories began to jumble and go around my head.

My breath hitched.

Visions—Dominic's grin, Cayden's fury, Nicole's smile—all shattered like glass.

I gasped once, eyes wide… then calm.

My wrists went slack.

The chains dissolved.

"Nova is gone," the High Seer murmured. "Only *Seraphiel* remains."

The robes of the God of the Cult were brought forward—silver and black, stitched with thread pulled from reality itself. They dressed me in reverence.

I had no idea who I am or where I am

When I opened her eyes again, they glowed not with spirit light—but with devotion.

"I… am home," I whispered.

The Cult bowed.

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The High Seer stepped closer, his voice smooth and certain, like a lullaby that seeps into your bones.

"You are Seraphiel, chosen vessel of the Cult's God. Born from the ashes of chaos, destined to bring order to the realms."

They showed me visions—twisted memories of battles I never fought, names I never heard, a past so convincing it burned like fire in my chest.

"You were lost to darkness," the Seer said, "but the Cult found you. We saved you. We gave you purpose."

I nodded slowly, the pieces fitting where they never did before. There was no room for doubt—only the warmth of belonging.

"Together, we will restore balance," they promised. "And you will lead us into a new era."

I swallowed his words, the doubt erased and replaced by devotion as deep and endless as the night.

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