Chapter Sixty Two
The memories dragged Elrien to places that still lived in his bones, the past reaching out with bloody fingers.
As the first memory hit, pain bloomed across Elrien's chest.
It was only a trick of his mind, but it didn't make it any less bad.
His ribs felt cracked, his organs twisted. The same places where that forbidden name had cut him centuries ago, and in some nightmares, it still hurt like it was only yesterday.
The scars appeared like ghost writing on his skin, dark lines that burned and throbbed with remembered agony.
He was that forsaken child again. Small and trembling and trying so hard to disappear.
The demon king's voice crashed through his mind, louder now, echoing off the walls of Elrien's adult consciousness until it felt like drowning in sound.
"YOU WILL USE NO MAGIC. NONE AT ALL. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, BOY?"
Elrien's body flinched violently, his muscles remembering the way he used to cower.
