The ruins stretched endlessly, jagged walls and toppled spires glowing faintly under the eternal crimson moon. Kael followed Brann and Selene in wary silence, his boots crunching across broken stone. The chain-mark on his chest burned softly, as though alive, and with each step the whispers in his mind grew louder.
Hungry… bind more… feed us…
He clenched his jaw and pressed his hand against his chest. The voices had been quieter when he was alone. Now, in the company of others, they seemed agitated, restless, demanding.
"Keep up, boy," Brann called over his shoulder, his deep voice steady as stone. The man's broad shoulders and rusted sword made him look like a survivor carved out of iron. He walked with the confidence of someone who had seen too much and survived anyway.
Selene moved differently. She glided more than walked, her steps soundless despite the uneven terrain. Her long dark hair rippled in the stale wind, and her silver eyes glowed faintly, unsettling in their calmness. She hadn't spoken much since Kael had agreed to follow them, but she didn't need to. Those eyes spoke enough. Watching, measuring.
Kael didn't like it.
They turned a corner where shattered arches framed a wide courtyard. Twisted trees grew through cracks in the stone, their black bark splitting with glowing veins that pulsed faintly. Bulbous pods dangled from the branches, some as large as Kael's head. They swayed faintly despite the still air, as though breathing.
Brann stopped at the edge of the courtyard and gestured with his sword. "We rest here. The trees grow food. It'll taste like rot, but it'll keep you alive."
Kael's empty stomach tightened at the word. He hadn't eaten since bread at the orphanage, hours before he had woken here. Hunger clawed at him now, sharper than ever.
Brann strode to a tree, swung his sword, and split one of the pods. A foul stench filled the air, bitter and sulfurous. Black pulp oozed from inside like tar. Brann scooped some with his fingers and shoved it into his mouth, chewing without complaint.
"Eat," he said, voice muffled around the pulp.
Kael stared, grimacing. "That's food?"
Selene plucked a pod gracefully, tearing it open with her hands. She dipped a finger in and tasted the pulp as if sampling fine wine. Her expression didn't change. "You'll learn not to ask questions here. If it sustains you, it's food."
Kael swallowed hard. His stomach growled again. Reluctantly, he reached for a pod. It was warm against his skin, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. He nearly dropped it. Forcing himself not to think, he ripped it open. The smell gagged him.
"Don't sniff. Bite," Brann advised.
Kael shoved a handful into his mouth. The texture was mushy, the taste bitter and sour like spoiled fruit. He gagged, nearly retching, but forced himself to swallow. His throat burned. But slowly, slowly, the ache in his stomach dulled.
For the first time since arriving, he felt a shred of relief. He sagged against a broken wall, wiping pulp from his lips.
But the shadows inside him weren't satisfied.
Not enough. Not enough. Feed us more.
The whisper rippled through his veins, louder than hunger, sharper than need. His hand clenched against his chest.
Selene's gaze slid toward him. She was crouched on a chunk of rubble, legs folded neatly beneath her, chewing with quiet patience. Her glowing eyes locked on him like a hawk studying prey.
"It's not food your chains crave, is it?" she asked softly.
Kael's breath caught. "What do you mean?"
Her lips curved in something that wasn't quite a smile. "Every gift in the Dusk demands a price. Some pay in blood. Some in memories. Others in years of their life. Yours…" Her silver eyes gleamed. "Yours hungers for shadows. You've bound more than one already, haven't you?"
Kael stiffened. Brann shot her a warning look, but she ignored it.
"You feel it, don't you?" she continued, voice calm, almost kind. "The ache that doesn't fade with food. The itch that doesn't go away. The voices."
Kael's hands trembled. He tried to hide it, but Selene saw everything.
"What happens," she murmured, "when you refuse to feed it?"
Kael swallowed hard. "I… don't know."
Her smile sharpened. "Then you'll learn soon."
"Selene," Brann growled, voice sharp now. "Enough."
Her eyes flicked to him, but her expression remained serene. She dipped her fingers into the pulp again and licked them clean.
Kael looked between them, chest tightening. "You… you've seen this before."
Brann didn't meet his eyes. He picked up another pod and ripped it open. "Eat while you can. We move at false dawn."
Kael wanted to push further, but the man's tone brooked no argument. He chewed another handful of black pulp, hating the taste, but grateful for the strength it lent.
Still, the whispers didn't quiet.
Feed us. Feed us. Or we feed on you.
The three of them set camp in the courtyard. Brann found a defensible corner beneath a collapsed arch, while Selene arranged shards of stone into a neat semicircle around herself and sat cross-legged, eyes closed.
Kael tried to rest, but the whispers clawed at his skull. His limbs twitched, restless. The chains burned under his skin. He shifted constantly, unable to find stillness.
"Boy," Brann rumbled from where he sat sharpening his sword, "if you can't sleep, you'll die faster."
Kael glared. "It's not that simple."
Brann's eyes lifted, steady and hard. "Nothing here is simple. Sleep anyway. Or force yourself to. Weakness gets you killed."
Kael turned away, grinding his teeth. Easy for him to say. He didn't have shadows gnawing at his soul.
Selene's voice drifted from the other side of the fireless circle. "You'll learn to bend with it, Kael. Or you'll snap. Those are the only choices."
"I'm not a tree," he muttered bitterly.
"No," she said softly. "You're a chain. And chains either hold… or break."
Kael didn't answer. He shut his eyes, but sleep never came. Only whispers.
The first shriek shattered the silence.
Kael jolted upright, heart hammering. Brann was already on his feet, sword raised. Selene opened her eyes calmly, silver gaze glowing brighter.
Shadows moved at the edge of the courtyard. Not one. Not two. A pack.
Figures crawled from the ruins, their limbs twisted, eyes glowing white. Their mouths gaped open with wet snarls. Some scuttled on all fours like spiders, others limped like broken men.
Brann planted himself between them and the others, sword gleaming dully. "Stay behind me."
Kael's chain-mark seared instantly, shadows inside him writhing with hunger. His vision sharpened, blood rushing in his ears.
Bind them. Bind them. Feed us.
Brann roared as the first beast lunged. His sword cleaved through its torso, spraying black ichor. Another slammed into him from the side, claws scraping his armor. He grunted, shoving it off.
More came.
Kael stumbled back, chest blazing. The whispers screamed. NOW! FEED US!
He raised his hand. Chains erupted from the ground, jagged and writhing. They coiled around a beast mid-leap, slamming it into the stone. The monster shrieked, thrashing violently.
Kael yanked. The shadow dissolved, stabbing into his chest like molten glass. The hunger eased—briefly. Then surged stronger.
Another beast came at him. He screamed, hurling more chains. They lashed around its limbs, dragging it down. He pulled again, binding its essence into himself. The whispers sang, dozens of voices now, overlapping in twisted harmony.
Selene watched him, expression unreadable. Her silver eyes reflected the chains, glowing brighter.
Brann roared again, cutting down two more, but the pack kept coming. Kael threw out chain after chain, his body shaking with each binding. Shadows poured into him, voices rising, drowning.
Yes! More! More!
"Kael!" Brann's voice cut through the chaos. "Enough! You'll lose yourself!"
Kael didn't hear. Couldn't hear. Only the hunger. Only the chains.
One final beast lunged at him. His chains snapped around it, crushing. The shadow burst into him—and suddenly, silence.
The courtyard was still. The beasts lay dead or dissolved, their ichor staining the ground.
Kael collapsed to his knees, panting. His chest burned with searing fire. His vision blurred. He could hear whispers, dozens now, all whispering his name.
Brann stood over him, sword dripping black. His jaw was clenched, eyes grim.
Selene crouched nearby, watching with faint amusement. "So it's true," she murmured. "A true binder."
Kael looked up, trembling. "I… didn't mean to—"
Selene's smile was thin. "You'll either be our salvation… or our doom."
Brann scowled. "If he doesn't control it, he won't live long enough to be either."
Kael lowered his gaze, fists clenched. The shadows whispered louder than ever, pressing at the edges of his mind.
He had fed them. He had survived. But with every chain he bound, he could feel it—pieces of himself slipping away.
And he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.