**Chapter 9: The Original Sin**
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### **I. The Reflection**
The air inside the coral prison was thick with the scent of salt and something far older—like the inside of a long-sealed tomb cracked open after centuries. The walls pulsed faintly, alive in a way that made Lysander's skin prickle.
The prisoner—*Aelar*—drifted closer, his movements eerily weightless. His robes, once fine dragonlord silks, hung in tatters, their edges frayed like they had been gnawed at by time itself. The black veins crawling up his neck pulsed in time with the parasite's twitching beneath Lysander's skin.
**"You don't recognize me,"** Aelar murmured, tilting his head. **"But *it* does."**
The parasite *reacted*, its shadowy form writhing against the Maw's grip. A sharp, stabbing pain lanced through Lysander's skull as another **forced memory** tore through his mind:
- **Aelar standing before the Fourteen Flames**, his hands outstretched as molten rock surged around him—not in fear, but in *defiance*.
- **The High Priests chanting**, their voices weaving a net of blood magic around him.
- **A shadowkin hatchling**, smaller than the others, curling around Aelar's wrist like a living shackle.
Lysander staggered, his dagger slipping in his sweat-slick grip. **"You were their weapon."**
Aelar's mercury eyes darkened. **"We all were."**
The mute boy—*Hah'dra*—pressed his palm against the coral wall, his webbed fingers leaving faint trails in the bioluminescent slime. **"They bound him as they bound you,"** his voice echoed in Lysander's mind, though his lips never moved. **"To feed the god beneath."**
Aelar laughed, the sound hollow. **"And now, the god is hungry again."**
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### **II. The Leash and the God**
The prison shuddered, flecks of coral dust raining down as the Dreaming God's rage reverberated through the island.
Aelar pressed his twisted hand against the wall, and the coral **peeled apart**, revealing a window into the chaos beyond. The sight was worse than Lysander had imagined.
The shadowkin hatchlings had **multiplied**, their forms splitting and merging like living ink. They swarmed over the Dreaming God's massive body, their tiny maws **tearing chunks of its flesh**, which regrew only to be devoured again. The priests lay in pieces, their chitin masks shattered, their black blood pooling in the grooves of ancient dragonbone tiles.
And Nyessa—
Lysander's throat tightened.
Her body hung from a stalactite, her golden eyes **gouged out**, her viper's corpse still coiled around her wrist. The harpoon she'd given him—the one that had struck the god's eye—lay snapped in two beneath her.
**"She knew,"** Aelar said softly. **"She brought you here to die in her place."**
Lysander's grip on his dagger tightened. **"Why?"**
Aelar turned from the window, his mercury eyes glinting. **"Because the god doesn't just want the shadowkin. It wants the *leash* that binds them."**
He tapped the Maw around Lysander's throat. **"And you, my reflection, are wearing it."**
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### **III. The Unbinding**
The prison **shook violently**, a deep **crack** splitting the floor. Seawater sprayed upward, icy against Lysander's skin.
Hah'dra grabbed his arm, his grip surprisingly strong. **"Break the leash,"** his voice hissed inside Lysander's skull. **"Before it breaks you."**
Aelar stepped forward, his twisted hand outstretched. **"The Maw was never meant to hold the shadowkin forever. It was meant to *transfer* it—from one host to another."**
Lysander recoiled. **"You want me to give it to *you*?"**
**"I am already damned,"** Aelar said simply. **"You still have a chance."**
The parasite **screamed** in protest, its claws digging deeper into Lysander's flesh. The System's warnings **flashed crimson:**
**"CRITICAL SYMBIOSIS FAILURE"**
**"PARASITE REJECTION IMMINENT"**
**"SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 8.3%"**
Aelar didn't wait.
He **slammed** his twisted hand against the Maw.
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### **IV. The Choice**
**Agony.**
Not the clean cut of a blade, but the **slow, tearing horror** of something **rooted deep in his soul** being ripped free. The parasite's tendrils **snapped**, each one taking a piece of Lysander with it—**memory, breath, blood.**
Aelar **convulsed**, his back arching as the shadowkin **poured into him**, its inky form merging with his blackened veins. His mercury eyes **darkened**, the silver leaching away into **void-black**.
The prison **shattered**.
Hah'dra yanked Lysander back as seawater **exploded inward**, the force of it slamming them both against the far wall. The last thing Lysander saw before the flood took him was Aelar—**no longer a man, but a vessel**—standing tall as the shadowkin **consumed him whole**.
Then—
**Darkness.**
And a voice that was not a voice:
**"FLEE, LITTLE DRAGON. THE GOD REMEMBERS YOU NOW."**
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### **V. The Aftermath**
Lysander woke **gasping**, saltwater burning his lungs.
He lay on a **slick outcropping of rock**, the sea foaming angrily around him. The Isle of the Forgotten was **gone**—collapsed into the boiling straits, leaving only a whirlpool of churning black water.
Hah'dra crouched beside him, his mute lips pressed into a thin line. In his hands, he cradled **one thing** salvaged from the wreckage:
A single **shadowkin egg**, its shell cracked but still whole.
Lysander's hand flew to his throat.
The Maw was **gone**.
So was the parasite.
But the **tattoo** on his chest—the spiraling kraken—**burned**.
Hah'dra's voice slithered into his mind one last time:
**"The god is awake. And it will hunt you until the end of days."**