Chapter 9: The Eye Unbound
Arin's scream echoed into the night long after Leira's form vanished into the shadows. The clearing stank of burned wood and scorched cloth. Selene barked orders to the others, pushing them into defensive lines, but Arin heard nothing. His chest heaved as if the world had caved in. Every thread he tried to seize snapped under his grip, unraveling into nothing. His sister was gone.
Kael gripped his shoulder hard. "She's alive. They wouldn't waste her. Not yet."
The words barely registered. Alive. The thought beat like a drum in Arin's head. If she was alive, she could be saved. But the masked leader's voice echoed louder: *Choose: save her, or save yourself.*
He had chosen, and still she was gone.
---
By dawn, the survivors staggered forward, exhausted. Darius walked at Arin's side, his staff tapping the earth in a steady rhythm. "They took her because she matters to you," he said quietly. "And because they fear what you might become."
Arin's voice was raw. "Then help me get her back."
Darius met his gaze. "We will. But first—we must reach the Archive. The Chains will use her to lure you. If you follow blind, you will be lost. Only the Archive can give you the strength to face them."
Arin hated the logic, but some part of him knew it was true. Still, every step forward without Leira felt like betrayal.
---
The road wound into hills stripped bare by old fire. Charred stumps dotted the slopes, and ash crumbled underfoot. Selene led them on, her eyes hard, jaw clenched. Kael muttered curses at every turn, his anger sharp as a blade. The healer lagged, muttering prayers for the girl stolen into darkness.
That night they camped in a hollow between two cliffs. The wind howled through the rocks, carrying faint echoes. Arin could not sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw chains tightening around Leira, her eyes wide with fear. He pressed his hands to his temples until stars burst behind his eyelids.
Darius's voice came from the dark. "Pain sharpens sight. But if you let it rule you, it will blind you again."
Arin snapped, "She's my sister. Don't tell me how to feel."
"I won't," Darius said softly. "But I'll tell you this—rage without discipline serves only your enemies."
Arin turned away, but the words lodged deep.
---
The next day brought storms. Rain lashed down as they climbed narrow paths, mud sucking at their boots. Lightning split the sky, painting the hills in stark white. At the ridge's crest, Arin froze. His sight flared unbidden, and in the blinding flash he saw it—an arch of black stone rising from the earth like the bones of a giant. Beyond it, a valley of shadows, and deep within, a door half-buried in the mountain. Threads wound around it like veins of light.
"The Hollow Archive," he whispered.
Even through the storm, the group felt it—an ancient weight in the air, as if the land itself held its breath.
Selene's eyes narrowed. "So it begins."
---
As they descended toward the valley, the storm broke. Mist coiled thick, veiling the ground. Every sound was muffled, every step uncertain. Kael swore under his breath. "Feels like walking into a grave."
Darius said nothing. His staff glowed faintly, runes pulsing as he guided them. Arin's nerves prickled. The threads here thrummed differently—old, heavy, layered with memory. Whispers brushed his ears, voices not his own.
*Do not enter.*
*Come and be bound.*
*Truth asks a price.*
He shook his head, trying to silence them, but the words clung like burrs.
At last, the mist parted, revealing the arch in full. Black stone etched with spirals loomed above them, its surface slick with rain. Beyond, a stair cut into the earth led downward, vanishing into shadow.
Selene lifted her blade. "Form ranks. We go together."
They stepped under the arch. The air changed—colder, heavier, thick with expectation. The stairs groaned under their weight as they descended.
---
At the foot lay a wide chamber, walls carved with runes that pulsed faintly. In the center stood a gate of stone, its surface covered in symbols that shifted when Arin looked at them. His breath caught. The threads tangled here in dense knots, vibrating with power.
Darius approached the gate, his staff humming. "The Archive," he murmured. "It waits."
Kael frowned. "So how do we open it?"
"Only one with the Eye can," Darius said, turning to Arin. His gaze was intent, almost hungry. "It is bound to you."
Something in his tone made Arin's stomach twist. He stepped back. "Why me?"
"Because you are unbound," Darius said softly. "Because it was always meant for you."
Selene's hand slid to her sword. "Explain yourself."
Darius's expression hardened. "The Chains are not the only ones who seek to control the Eye. The Archive does not open freely. It demands a price. And I—" His voice rose, eyes blazing. "I will see it paid."
The runes on his staff flared. Threads lashed from the walls, wrapping around Arin's limbs. He cried out, struggling, but the bindings held fast.
Kael shouted, lunging forward, but a blast of force hurled him against the wall. Selene's blade clanged against invisible wards. The healer screamed a prayer, silenced as shadow-bound chains coiled around his throat.
Darius's voice thundered. "The Chains would bury you. I would use you. The Eye is too great for a child to squander. Through me, it will reshape the world!"
Arin's vision split—Leira chained in darkness, the masked leader watching, Darius's hand outstretched, the gate behind him glowing brighter. Rage surged through him. Threads snapped and blazed, fighting the bindings.
"You… will not… take me!"
The chamber shook. The runes screamed with light. Darius staggered, eyes wide, but his grip held. The gate pulsed, a heartbeat of stone and fire.
Leira's voice rang in Arin's head—faint, desperate. *Arin. Don't give in.*
With a roar, he tore at the threads. The bindings shattered. Power surged through him, flooding the chamber. Runes cracked, stone splintered. Darius was hurled back, crashing against the gate.
The gate flared open, light spilling like a flood. Beyond lay a vast corridor, endless, filled with shifting maps and whispers of forgotten voices.
Arin fell to his knees, gasping. The others scrambled to him, but the chamber groaned, dust raining from the ceiling.
And then—the masked leader stepped through the light.
Chains coiled around his arms, his mask gleaming silver. His voice was calm, cold, inevitable.
"At last. The Eye is open."
The gate roared wider. The ground split. And Arin, trembling, realized he had not freed himself from the chains.
He had only opened the door to something far worse.
--- END OF CHAPTER 9 ---