Chapter 6: The Song of Chains
The chant followed them into the night, a low thrum that seemed to seep from the earth itself. Around the fire, the travelers sat tense, every crack of branch making them flinch. Arin had never heard such sound before—it was not like raiders shouting or soldiers marching. It was a song, slow and patient, carried by dozens of voices woven together in rhythm. It was the kind of song that might lull a child to sleep if not for the dread that crawled behind each note.
Leira sat close to him, her hand clasped around his. He could feel her pulse jump every time the chorus swelled. "What are they saying?" she whispered.
Arin strained his eyes. At first there was only noise. Then, as his vision adjusted, the threads of sound seemed to pull apart. He saw faint glyphs, shapes in the air—symbols dancing like pale fireflies above the treetops. His stomach turned. The words became clearer.
"Bind the sight. Bind the bearer."
Arin gasped, clutching his temples. Leira caught him as his knees buckled. "Arin, what is it?"
"They're singing about me," he managed. "They want to bind the eye."
Selene's face hardened. "So the old songs were true. The Order of Chains still lives."
Kael blinked. "The what?"
Selene's voice dropped into a near growl. "A cult older than any kingdom. They believe eyes like his are curses upon the world. They hunt and shackle them, burying the bearers deep so no light escapes. If they've found us here, it means they've been watching far longer than we thought."
The fire cracked, sending sparks into the dark. Everyone fell silent. The weight of her words pressed heavier than the night air.
---
At dawn they moved quickly, leaving the hollow behind. The road was not truly a road but a weaving of deer paths and dry streambeds. Selene's people moved like shadows, setting traps behind them, erasing tracks. The morning smelled of wet earth and iron-rich stone. Birds fell silent as if listening to the song still drifting faintly behind.
Arin tried to push his sight outward, searching for danger. But every time he extended the threads, he felt them snag, as if something tugged back. The further he reached, the more he felt like prey caught in a net. He withdrew, shaken.
Leira squeezed his shoulder. "Don't push too hard," she murmured. "If it hurts, it isn't worth it."
But Arin could not tell her the truth: it wasn't pain that frightened him. It was the feeling that someone else was watching through his sight. Someone patient, pulling strings from afar.
---
By midday they reached a gorge cut deep into the forest, a scar of stone with a river raging at its base. A rope bridge spanned the gap, swaying above the torrent. Selene signaled the group to cross quickly, two by two. The sound of rushing water filled the air.
Kael went first, light on his feet, calling back with cocky ease, "See? Nothing to worry about!"
Arin hated the bridge immediately. The sway unsettled him, and his vision showed threads straining at the ropes, fibers fraying. He guided Leira behind him, forcing himself forward. Each step felt like walking on the edge of a blade.
Halfway across, the chant rose again. Louder this time, closer. Figures emerged from the far treeline—men and women cloaked in ash-gray, faces hidden, each carrying long staves etched with runes. The Order of Chains.
"Go!" Selene shouted from the other side. Archers raised bows, but the cultists lifted their staves and the arrows twisted midair, falling harmlessly into the gorge. A ripple of power rolled through the earth.
The bridge swayed violently. One rope snapped with a sharp crack. Screams echoed as people clung to the ropes. Arin's eyes burned. He saw the threads of the bridge stretching, unraveling, seconds from collapse.
Without thinking, he reached. His sight seized the glowing threads and held them tight. The ropes steadied, fibers knitting back together as though stitched by invisible hands. His teeth ground with effort; sweat poured down his face.
"Arin!" Leira's voice was a lifeline, pulling him forward. He staggered, dragging her with him, step by agonizing step. The others scrambled across. Selene covered the rear, blade flashing. At last, Arin and Leira reached solid ground.
The moment his feet touched earth, the ropes behind snapped completely, the bridge plunging into the gorge. Cultists on the far side stared with hollow eyes but did not follow. Instead, they raised their staves and bowed their heads. The chant shifted, a single word rising above the river's roar.
"Unbound."
The cultists turned and melted into the forest. The chant faded, leaving only the roar of water and the ragged breathing of survivors.
---
That night, they made camp in a limestone cave. The air was damp, smelling of moss and ancient water. Torches flickered against walls carved by time. The group huddled close, shaken. Some wept quietly. Others muttered prayers.
Leira leaned against Arin, her head on his shoulder. "You saved us," she whispered. Her eyes glistened. "You held the bridge."
"I don't know how," Arin admitted. His body still trembled with the memory. "It felt like I was tearing myself apart."
Selene approached, kneeling across from them. Her face was drawn, weary, but her eyes still carried that steady flame. "Now you see why you cannot run from this," she said. "They know you live. The Order will not stop. If you do not learn control, they will chain you—or worse."
Arin shivered. "The Hollow Archive… will it have answers?"
Selene's gaze didn't waver. "If anything does, it is there. But we must reach it before the Order closes the path."
Kael, sitting nearby, muttered, "What if the Archive isn't a refuge? What if it's another trap?"
Selene's lips pressed thin. "Then we'll find out together. But standing still means death."
Arin stared into the fire. The flames reflected in his strange eyes, twin sparks dancing. He felt Leira's hand squeeze his, grounding him. For her, for the ones who had already fallen, he had no choice. He would walk this road, no matter where it ended.
---
In the dead of night, Arin woke to a whisper. Not a dream, not a chant. A single voice, soft as a sigh, curling into his thoughts.
"Unbound one…"
He sat up sharply, eyes scanning the cave. The others slept, breaths even. But in his sight, threads of shadow pooled at the far wall, weaving into a shape. For a moment, he saw a figure cloaked in smoke, its eyes burning like coals.
"You see us," the voice murmured. "And we see you. You cannot run."
Arin's breath caught. The figure raised a hand and the threads quivered, tugging at him, trying to pull him closer.
Then Leira stirred beside him. The vision shattered. The cave was empty, only shadows dancing. But the echo of the words lingered in his skull.
"You cannot run."
Arin lay back down, clutching Leira's hand until dawn. Sleep never came.
--- END OF CHAPTER 6 ---