The Underworld had many names.
Realm of Flame and Bone.
The Hollow Deep.
The Labyrinth Below.
But its truest name the one the first witches whispered before even the Spiral Flame was born was this:
The Place of Chains.
Not iron. Not steel.
But chains made from choices, forged in consequence.
And now, for the first time in a thousand years, those chains began to whisper.
In the Hollow…
Seraphira had not slept since returning from the Tithe.
The spiral mark now burned with a dual ring flame and shadow intertwined and with it came visions.
She saw glimpses in her dreams.
Not of the future.
But of what came before.
The first Queen of Flame, whose name was lost.
The Devil-King of the First Fire, not Kaelreth but the one who made him.
And a world once whole, before it shattered into kingdom, clan, and curse.
She saw them all bound to the same place.
The Chainspire.
It's calling you, Theryn said, watching her trace the spiral on her wrist. You've changed since the bond.
Seraphira nodded. It's not just a mark anymore.
Elena frowned. What is it, then?
A key.
The Chainspire stood at the heart of the world.
Not visible on any map.
Not reachable by road.
But Seraphira found it easily.
The flame led her.
The shadow guided her steps.
And at last, they arrived: a tower of obsidian links rising into the clouds, as wide as a fortress and endless in height.
The Chains That Speak hung down its sides like weeping vines, each one humming with quiet song.
And when she stepped forward, they awoke.
"Child of Fire…"
"Bearer of Shadow…"
"Breaker of Prophecy…"
"Will you unmake what the gods have bound?"
Seraphira stood within the chain circle, heart thundering.
What were they bound for?
The Chains replied:
"To hold the realms apart."
"To keep power divided."
"To ensure none could rule them all."
Elena's voice trembled. If you break them…
They'll come together, Seraphira said.
The world might collapse, Theryn whispered.
Or it might be reborn.
And then, she heard another voice.
Not the Chains.
Not Kaelreth.
But her mother's.
Faint. Echoing through time.
"You were born not to rule. Not to destroy. But to choose."
"Don't let them choose for you."
Seraphira raised her hand to the chains.
The mark on her palm pulsed.
She did not break them.
Not yet.
But she spoke to them.
And for the first time in recorded memory, the Chains answered not with command...
...but with permission.
"When the last gate falls…"
"When the stars weep fire…"
"Then shall you choose, unite, or unmake."
Seraphira turned away, for now.
The choice was coming.
But not yet.
And when it did, it would echo through every realm, every kingdom, every soul.
🌑 In the Underworld…
Kaelreth knelt before the old altar of forgotten names.
He felt the chains stir far above, and his eyes snapped open.
She's found it, Malkor whispered.
Kaelreth rose, shadows clinging to him like armor.
"Then it begins."