Chapter One: The Mage in Chains

...The wind screamed through the towers of the High Keep like a dying beast, clawing against the stones, rattling the ancient windows. Thunder cracked somewhere beyond the fortress walls, but inside, everything was quiet too quiet....

...Prince Corin of Astrale walked through the eastern corridor, his bootfalls crisp against polished obsidian tiles. Despite the storm outside, he wore no cloak. Cold didn’t bother him anymore. Not since the night the stars bled red and the oracle whispered his fate like a curse....

...He had trained for war. He had studied diplomacy. He had endured pain. But nothing, nothing had prepared him for this....

...The Binding....

...“Your Highness.” Commander Rellan kept pace beside him, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. “You don’t need to see him until the ceremony. It’s tradition for a reason.”...

...“Tradition is why our world is crumbling,” Corin muttered. “I want to see who I’m giving my soul to.”...

...Rellan didn’t argue. He rarely did anymore. Corin appreciated the silence....

...The descent into the lower dungeons was like entering another world. The torches on the walls flickered weakly, as if afraid to illuminate what lived in the dark. Magic wards hummed faintly beneath Corin’s boots, woven into the stones centuries ago to keep prisoners and power contained....

...At the base of the stairs, a guard handed Corin a key. “Be careful, Your Highness. He hasn’t spoken a word since we dragged him from the ruin.”...

...Corin accepted the key without comment. The guards stepped aside, clearly relieved to be excused....

...He stopped outside the final cell....

...His heart beat once. Loud and slow....

...He unlocked the door and pushed it open....

...Inside, the mage sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, hands chained, his wrists etched with glowing glyphs. He didn’t look up right away. His hair, silver-white and too long, hung like silk over his face. He looked impossibly young barely older than Corin and yet there was something ancient about the stillness in him. Like he had been waiting a long time for something....

...When he did lift his head, their eyes met and Corin stopped breathing....

...One eye was deep violet. The other, molten gold. Not human. Not entirely. And yet…...

...“You’re late,” the mage said quietly....

...Corin blinked. “You knew I was coming?”...

...“I saw it,” the boy said. “You, standing in fire. Bleeding. I was crying. And we were both burning.”...

...Corin frowned. “You’re a seer?”...

...“I’m cursed,” the mage replied, voice calm but not emotionless. “My name is Silas.”...

...He stood slowly, chains dragging across the floor, but made no move toward Corin. “You came to see the monster. But I’m not the monster, Prince Corin. I’m the offering.”...

...Corin swallowed hard. “You don’t sound afraid.”...

...“I am. Just not of death.”...

...The silence between them stretched. A pulse of magic stirred in the air, Corin could feel it prickling along his skin, like a storm building behind the boy’s calm eyes....

...“I don’t want to die,” Silas whispered. “But one of us has to. That’s the price of the Crimson Vow.”...

...And as Corin stared at the boy the kingdom had locked away, a thought rooted itself deep in his chest:...

...I won’t let it be you....

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