Vathis: Ashes of the Forsaken

The moment his power returned, Aeron knew.

It wasn't fully there yet—the seal his mother had placed on him still held, though it was fractured now, leaking tiny glimpses of what had once been his true potential. He could feel it stirring, like a beast waking from slumber, claws dragging against the inside of his mind.

Malik knew it, too.

For the first time, his father looked at him not as a failure, but as a threat.

And that changed everything.

---

The Lock and the Key

Aeron spent the next week in chains.

Not as punishment.

But out of fear.

He was moved from his usual chambers to the deepest sanctum of the temple, a place where no light reached. The walls were carved with old symbols, pulsing faintly with a magic meant to suppress and bind. The air was thick with rituals of control, whispers of the gods crawling against his skin.

His wrists and ankles were bound in iron shackles, carved with sigils that burned at his skin. Every time he tried to pull at them, a cold energy snaked through his veins, suppressing any flicker of magic that might rise.

He was not given food.

Water was rationed—just enough to keep him from dying.

The guards did not speak to him.

They did not even look at him.

The only sound was the steady dripping of water from the temple's cracked stone ceiling and the distant echo of footsteps far, far above.

Malik did not visit.

Not at first.

But Aeron knew his father too well.

He was waiting.

Planning.

Studying.

And then, on the seventh day, the silence ended.

"Do you understand now?" Malik's voice echoed through the chamber, cold and sharp.

Aeron sat against the far wall, chains fastened tightly around his wrists and ankles. He did not answer.

"Your mother's seal is failing," Malik continued, stepping closer. "That means you are waking up. It means there is still a chance to fix you."

Aeron finally looked at him.

"Fix me?" he repeated, voice hoarse from days without water.

Malik knelt before him, expression unreadable.

"You were meant to be great, Aeron. The vessel of a god. The herald of the old ways." He exhaled slowly, a rare crack of something almost human in his voice. "But she took that from you. She ruined you."

Aeron clenched his fists.

His mother's face flashed in his mind. Her gentle hands, her soft voice, the way she had whispered to him in those final moments before the fire consumed her—

"I will protect you, my son."

"One day, you will understand."

And now, her magic was breaking.

His father saw it as a chance to mold him.

To shape him back into the weapon he was meant to be.

But Aeron knew better.

This was not Malik's victory.

This was his mother's will finally awakening.

And he would not let it be twisted.

---

Selene's Warning

On the ninth day, Selene found him.

Aeron had not expected it—had not even thought it was possible for her to slip past Malik's guards, past the temple's curses, past the hundred barriers meant to keep the outside world away from him.

And yet—

One moment, he was alone in the darkness.

The next, she was there.

"Aeron."

Her voice was barely a whisper.

He flinched, staring at her in disbelief. "Selene—how—"

"No time," she interrupted, kneeling beside him. She pulled something from her sleeve—a small dagger, its hilt wrapped in cloth, its blade etched with old runes.

"This seal on you," she murmured, touching the chains. "It's failing, but not fast enough. Your father is planning something, isn't he?"

Aeron hesitated.

Then, finally, he nodded.

Selene exhaled sharply. "I heard things in the city. Whispers. He's preparing a ritual. Something to—" she hesitated, eyes darkening. "To take control of your power. Permanently."

Aeron's blood ran cold.

He should have expected this.

His father would never let him go.

Not as himself.

Only as a tool.

Selene's grip on the dagger tightened. "We need to get you out of here."

Aeron almost laughed.

"You think it's that easy?" He raised his wrists, showing the chains. "Even if we break these, Malik has wards all over this place. If I try to leave, they'll tear me apart before I take a single step."

Selene's gaze was calculating.

"What if we didn't break you out?" she murmured.

Aeron frowned. "What?"

"What if we made them think you were still here?"

She turned the dagger in her hand, eyes flicking toward the stone-carved symbols lining the walls.

"I have an idea."

And just like that—the path to freedom began.