(Flashback)
Lucian materialized within the heart of the ancient forest, the air thick with the scent of old magic and damp earth. At the center of a hollowed cavern, he found himself bound once again, his limbs and torso restrained by glowing chains inscribed with Divine Runes, shimmering faintly with golden light.
The chains held firm, their energy pressing into his form, each rune was a testament to the ancient power that had once shackled him.
He let out a bitter smile. These bindings were remnants of a long-forgotten era, chains forged to contain creatures like him—the old devils, who had once ruled and razed realms with ease. But now, something has changed. Ever since he'd formed the pact with Elara, the brightness of the runes had started to dim, their once-blinding light waning to a faint, flickering glow. It was subtle, and any mortal might miss it, but to Lucian, it was unmistakable: the seals were weakening.
The revelation stirred a dangerous delight within him, a thrill he hadn't felt in centuries. He flexed his fingers, feeling the slight give in the chains, the faintest loosening of their grip. Could it be Elara? he wondered, his mind racing.
Her power had been growing steadily, her progress relentless. Each time she practiced the dark arts, her bloodline power strengthened—a latent, ancient potential that seemed to blossom under his guidance.
"Interesting," he murmured, a dark glint in his eyes. "Every ounce of power she gains draws me closer to freedom." His voice echoed off the cavern walls, laced with a satisfaction he rarely allowed himself to indulge in.
A faint rustling echoed from the shadows behind him, and he sensed the presence of his loyal subordinate—a shadowed figure known as Veron.
Veron had once been a fierce warrior in Lucian's former realm, bound to him even now despite the chains and the centuries that had passed. He appeared, his figure blending into the shadows around him, yet his voice was clear as steel.
"My Lord," Veron greeted, bowing slightly, though his tone was edged with concern. "You seem… preoccupied."
Lucian's smirk widened. "Observant as ever, Veron," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "Tell me, do you see it too?" He gestured toward the chains binding him. "These restraints are weakening."
Veron studied the chains carefully, his eyes narrowing. "Yes, my Lord," he admitted. "They do appear dimmer. But is it wise to place hope in a mortal girl's potential?"
At Veron's words, Lucian's smirk faded into a frown, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "She is no ordinary mortal, Veron," he corrected sharply.
"She is an anomaly, a convergence of power and fate that we have waited eons for. Her bloodline carries dormant magic strong enough to erode these seals. She may be unaware, but every step she takes brings her closer to awakening it fully."
Veron lowered his gaze, sensing Lucian's rising excitement. "Forgive me, my Lord, but what if her power fails? If she cannot reach the strength you need?"
Lucian's expression darkened. He knew Veron's loyalty was unwavering, but the question stirred his own buried doubts. He exhaled, forcing himself to retain control.
"Then I will not allow her to fail," he declared, his voice cold and resolute. "If it takes her blood, her spirit—whatever it may take, she will reach that power."
But beneath his conviction lay an undertone of something else, an emotion he hadn't experienced in millennia: anticipation. Elara was proving herself far more capable, her progress swift and her resolve even swifter.
The thought of guiding her, of testing her limits, brought a wicked satisfaction that he could barely contain.
In a rare moment of vulnerability, Lucian's voice softened, almost wistful. "You see, Veron, she carries within her an ancient bloodline that resonates with these seals.
Each time she trains, each time she pushes herself to the edge, it weakens the chains holding me here. It's as if her very being was designed for this purpose."
Veron nodded, though his gaze held a hint of skepticism. "So, she is… the key."
A dark chuckle escaped Lucian's lips. "Indeed. And once she realizes it, she will have no choice but to accept her role. Fate has drawn us together for a reason. And though she resists it now, she will come to understand."
He let his words hang in the air, a subtle warning and a promise all at once. The silence stretched, broken only by the faint, distant hum of the Divine Runes clinging to their diminishing power.
But as Lucian drifted deeper into his thoughts, the atmosphere shifted abruptly. The air around him grew heavier, charged with energy, and a faint, ominous glow appeared on the ground at his feet.
Bloody red runes, their lines twisted and jagged, began to etch themselves into the earth. They pulsed with an eerie light, casting long shadows across the cavern walls.
Lucian's lips curled into a sinister smile as he recognized the runes. This was Elara's doing—her summons reaching across realms, calling him forth. The ritual was almost poetic in its brutality, an ancient rite passed down through dark, forgotten texts.
"Oh, it seems she's calling for me," he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. He cast a glance at Veron, whose eyes flickered with apprehension.
"My Lord," Veronl began, his tone hesitant. "Are you certain she can be trusted? If she grows too strong, might she turn against us?"
Lucian's laughter echoed through the cavern, cold and mirthless. "Turn against me?" he repeated, his eyes flashing. "Even if she wished to, she lacks the power to sever our bond. The pact binds us as surely as these chains."
Yet, beneath his words, a sliver of uncertainty lurked. The interference he felt each time she summoned him—a strange resistance that disrupted his presence, forcing him to her side only when she desired.
He hadn't expected it, hadn't foreseen that her bloodline might disrupt even his control over the pact.
He felt the summons tug at him, pulling him toward Elara. The bloody runes on the ground grew brighter, their pulsing rhythm matching his heartbeat. It was time. A mix of frustration and thrill coiled in his chest as he prepared to respond to her call.
"Veron," he said, his voice low and steady, "stay vigilant. Keep watch over this place. The seals may weaken further with each of her advancements. I will need you here to inform me of every change."
Veron inclined his head in understanding. "As you command, my Lord."
Lucian gave a final, lingering look at the chains binding him. Soon, he would no longer need them. Soon, he would be free to roam once more, his power unleashed upon the world he had once ruled. And Elara, whether she realized it or not, would be the catalyst for his rebirth.
With a final smirk, he surrendered to the summons, allowing his form to dissolve into shadow and drift toward her call.
---
As Lucian faded from the cavern, his mind drifted back to the moment he had first realized the pact's effect on his chains. It had been subtle at first, a dimming of the runes that could easily have been mistaken for his own wishful thinking. But as the weeks passed, he noticed the unmistakable weakening, the flickering of the ancient symbols that bound him.
That realization had filled him with an exhilaration he hadn't felt in centuries. He remembered how he had longed to fly to Elara's side, to press her to push herself further, to test the limits of her bloodline's power. Each time she grew stronger, he sensed the chains loosening, sensing his freedom drawing nearer.
But his elation had been tempered by frustration. No matter how much he longed to, he couldn't appear at her side unless she summoned him. Her bloodline—a strange, potent force—seemed to interfere with his ability to manifest freely. He was tethered to her will, called forth only at her whim.
The thought stung his pride, a bitter reminder of the pact's unforeseen limitations. He had imagined himself the master in this arrangement, guiding her toward her purpose, manipulating her with ease. But her bloodline had proven more unpredictable than he'd anticipated.
Yet, that unpredictability intrigued him, even as it frustrated him. It was a puzzle he intended to unravel, a mystery he would solve one way or another.
---
As he felt his form solidify in response to Elara's summons, Lucian allowed himself one last, satisfied thought. Soon, he mused, a dark gleam in his eyes. Very soon.
He would mold her, shape her power, until she became the weapon he needed her to be. And when the moment came, when she unlocked the final seal… his vengeance, long delayed, would finally be unleashed.
(Flashback ended)