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Chapter 4: Chains of Fate and Bitter Truths

  The moon hung low over the horizon, casting a pale glow on the untamed landscape that spread before Erik and his escort. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, and the jungle beyond the fortress walls pulsed with the sounds of night; chirping insects, the distant growl of unseen creatures, and the rustling of leaves in the humid breeze.

  "Do you have a name?" Erik asked

  his voice breaking the silence, more to alleviate the unnerving quiet than out of genuine curiosity.

  The figure paused for a moment, as though considering the question. Its hollow, gravelly voice answered, "Thalion."

  "Thalion, huh? Well, it's nice to know the name of my mysterious savior," Erik said with a hint of sarcasm.

  "Any chance you could tell me where we're going? Or is this a ‘trust me, you'll see’ kind of deal?"

  Thalion did not respond immediately. Instead, he raised a gauntleted hand, pointing ahead to a narrow path that twisted through the jungle.

  "Safe place. Dominion. Protect my lord."

  "Dominion?" Erik muttered, confusion crossing his face.

  He glanced at the shadowy figure.

  "You keep saying that. Is that your group? Your... people?"

  Erik sighed, deciding not to press further for now. He had more pressing matters; like staying alive and figuring out what exactly he was supposed to do next.

  After what felt like hours of navigating through the jungle, they came upon a clearing. The moonlight illuminated an ancient, stone structure that appeared half-consumed by the surrounding forest. Vines crawled up its walls, and moss blanketed the crumbling stone. Despite its decay, Erik could sense an aura of power emanating from the place; an old, forgotten magic that hummed just beneath the surface.

  Thalion approached the entrance, a dark archway that seemed to lead into the bowels of the earth itself. He turned to Erik, his glowing eyes locking onto his.

  "Enter."

  Erik hesitated. He knew that trusting this strange figure might be his only choice, but stepping into the darkness of an ancient ruin with an unknown entity as his only guide wasn't exactly reassuring. He glanced down at his hand, where the once faint, twisted mouth of the demon had formed.

  "You got any opinions on this?" Erik asked, shaking his hand slightly.

  The demonic mouth smiled, its voice a raspy whisper “feed”. Erik, rolled his eyes and sighed.

  Thalion again pointed to the entrance.

  "Dominion. Old power. Serve. Enter now. Perish outside."

  "Right.. so you keep saying" Erik muttered

  Taking a deep breath, he nodded to Thalion.

  "Alright, lead the way."

  The interior of the ruin was even darker than Erik had imagined. Thalion walked by a torch, and the end covered in wrappings burst into dark blue and purple light, the flickering flames casting long shadows on the stone walls as they descended down a narrow staircase.

  “that’s normal” Erik said

  The air grew colder, and Erik could feel the weight of the earth pressing in on them. The walls were etched with ancient symbols; runes that glowed faintly as they passed, resonating with a magic that felt strangely familiar to Erik. After what seemed an eternity of descending, the stairs opened into a vast underground chamber. The room was filled with other robed figures, their heads bowed in silent prayer before an altar that stood at the center. A strange stone, glowing with an ethereal blue light, rested upon the altar, and the cultists seemed to draw power from its presence.

  Thalion led Erik to the center of the chamber, where the cultists parted to make way for them. All eyes turned to Erik, their expressions hidden beneath the deep hoods of their robes. He could feel their gaze, the weight of expectation that seemed to press upon him, and it made his skin crawl. A figure stepped forward, taller than the others, his robes adorned with intricate patterns that suggested authority. He pulled back his hood, revealing a face marked by age and wisdom, his eyes sharp as they studied Erik.

  "Welcome," the man said, his voice smooth but carrying a commanding undertone. "I am Dominion, the keeper of ancient pacts. You have been chosen, bound to a power beyond comprehension. We are here to serve, to guide you in wielding the force that resides within."

  Erik swallowed, trying to keep his composure.

  "Look, I appreciate the... hospitality, but I'm not exactly sure what you expect from me. I didn’t ask for any of this."

  Dominion nodded, as if he understood Erik’s confusion.

  "No one chooses their fate. It is thrust upon them. You carry within you a demon of great power, and that power must be mastered, or it will consume you. I can teach you, help you control what lies within. In return, you will help fulfill the prophecy."

  "Prophecy?" Erik's brow furrowed. "What prophecy?"

  Dominion gestured to the glowing stone on the altar.

  "A prophecy as old as these stones. A vessel of darkness will rise, one who will challenge the balance of power, who will turn the tide against those who would see our world enslaved to their will. You, are that vessel."

  Erik felt a chill run down his spine. Prophecies, demons, ancient pacts; this was all more than he had ever bargained for. He had never wanted power, never wanted to be part of anything grand or world-changing. He had just wanted to be free of the shackles that society had placed on him.

  "And if I say no?" Erik asked, his voice quiet but firm.

  Dominions gaze softened, and he placed a hand on Erik’s shoulder.

  "Then you will die, and the power within you will die with you. The choice is yours, but know this; if you turn away now, you leave behind not only your own fate but the fate of countless others who depend on you."

  Erik closed his eyes, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. The demon within him stirred, a restless presence that seemed to sense his hesitation.

  "Accept their offer," the demons voice whispered in his mind, the tone uncharacteristically calm.

  "For now, we align. Learn their ways. Master the power. Only then can you hope to control anything."

  Erik took a deep breath, opening his eyes to meet the elder's gaze.

  "Alright," he said, his voice steady.

  "I'll do it. But let’s get one thing straight; I’m not your Vessel or lord. I’m just trying to survive."

  The elder smiled faintly, nodding.

  "Survival is the beginning, Erik. But in time, you may find that you are capable of far more."

  “This temple has existed for centuries, long before the current rulers rose to power. We are the keepers of ancient knowledge, and we have served as advisors to many… kings, sorcerers, and even those who sought to rise above their mortal station. Our role is to preserve balance, to ensure that the power is not misused.”

  Erik couldn't help but notice how the other cultists reacted to him. They all kept their heads bowed, almost reverently, and yet there was a subtle distance between them, as if they feared or distrusted him. It was a disconcerting sight, and it made Erik's skin prickle with unease.

  More unnerving was the fact that Dominion knew his name without being told. Erik’s eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion rising.

  “How do you know my name?” he asked, his voice carrying an edge of distrust.

  The elder paused, meeting Erik’s gaze with an inscrutable expression.

  “We have our ways, Erik Marlowe. The threads of fate weave together all who play a part in this prophecy. We knew of your coming before you even set foot upon these lands.”

  Erik’s unease grew. The idea that these people knew so much about him while he was still in the dark about their true motives did not sit well with him. He couldn't help but feel as though he was being led into something far beyond his control, and it made him want to pull away, to run.

  Dominion turned to the altar and gestured to one of the robed figures standing nearby. The figure stepped forward, carrying a polished stone that glowed with a soft, pulsating blue light. The elder took the stone and approached Erik.

  “You are weakened, Erik,” the elder said, his voice almost gentle.

  “You have been carrying a burden that even the strongest of would struggle to bear. Your body is hungry, is it not? You need to feed.”

  Erik hesitated, unsure of what to say. The truth was, he felt the emptiness in his core gnawing at him, a deep hunger that refused to be ignored. It was as though his body was slowly consuming itself, and the demon’s presence only made it worse. He nodded reluctantly.

  The elder held the glowing stone up to Erik’s chest, and immediately, Erik felt a strange warmth spread through his body. The stone seemed to resonate with the very core of his being, and suddenly, his vision shifted. He could see the meridians within himself; channels of energy that wove through his body, but unlike a mage’s meridians, his were dark and twisted and enlarged to the point of extreme surprise which were expanded far beyond what was natural. Dominions eyes narrowed as he observed Erik's meridians.

  “It is as I feared. Your core has been altered by the magic that was forced through it. The meridians, which should carry energy like a steady river, are now vast and empty, like a dried-up ocean bed. If you do not feed it, your body will devour itself, and the elements that made up binding the demon will break.”

  Erik swallowed hard, his stomach tightening at the elder’s words.

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  “What happens if they break?” he asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.

  Dominions gaze darkened, and he spoke with a gravity that made Erik's blood run cold.

  “If the chains break, the demon will be released, and your body will no longer be your own. You will transform, your humanity stripped away until nothing remains but the demon’s will. You will become the Demon in full; a creature of darkness, with no hope of returning to who you once were.”

  Erik clenched his jaw, the weight of his situation pressing down on him like a heavy stone. He had to find a way to keep the demon contained, to prevent himself from losing control entirely.

  “What do I need to do?” he asked, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him.

  Dominion handed the glowing stone to one of the other cultists, who stepped away. He then turned back to Erik, his eyes studying him carefully.

  “You need something that can channel the energy of your core in a controlled manner. We have the knowledge but it will take time. In the meantime, you must learn to feed your core, to draw magic from external sources. Only by feeding your core can you prevent it from consuming your own life force.”

  “Feed on magic?” Erik echoed, frowning. “How am I supposed to do that? I’ve never been able to use magic.”

  Dominion gave a small, almost sympathetic smile.

  “You will learn, Erik. I will teach you. There are different… ways that can be used to sustain you. The stone you saw is one such object. It resonates with your core, allows you to absorb the energy within. In time, you will learn to do this without the need for such objects, to draw magic directly from the world around you.”

  ”ok, how many stones do I need to absorb?” Erik said

  ”unfortunately, the vastness of your meridians has altered your core. Meaning the amount of magic needed to provide enough to create a proper flow within your body… would require several hundred of such stone.”

  Erik looked down at his hand, the faint outline of the demonic mouth still present. The hunger within him seemed to echo the Dominions words. The idea of drawing on magic, of consuming magic to sustain himself, felt alien and wrong, but he knew he had no choice.

  “If I do this, if I feed and learn to control it, will it be enough?” Erik asked, his voice betraying a hint of desperation.

  Dominion inclined his head.

  “It will be a beginning. You are on a path that few have walked, and the journey will not be easy. But with my guidance, you may yet find a way to master the power within you, to prevent the demon from consuming you.”

  The cultists around them began to chant softly, their voices weaving together in a haunting, melodic rhythm. The glowing stone on the altar pulsed in time with their chant, and Erik felt the pull of the magic within it, a steady thrum that resonated with his core. Erik took a deep breath, steeling himself. He had no other options; it was either his body would consume him or he would die in the process of trying to get back home.

  He looked up at Dominion, his eyes filled with determination.

  “When do we start?.”

  Dominion nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. Turning to the altar, raising his hands as he began to chant in an ancient, guttural language. The cultists around them joined in, their voices growing in intensity until the air seemed to hum with power. Erik felt an uneasy chill sweep through him, and before he could react, the stone walls of the chamber began to shift.

  With a low, grinding rumble, the walls parted slightly, and from the gaps emerged chains; gleaming, barbed chains, etched with runes that glowed an ominous crimson. They slithered through the air like serpents, and Erik's eyes widened in shock as they shot toward him.

  “Wait, what—?” Erik managed to say before the chains struck piercing into his shoulders, arms, and legs, pinning him in place.

  Pain seared through him, and he let out a strangled cry, his body convulsing as the runes on the chains flared to life.

  Dominion watched, his eyes cold and calculating as he orchestrated the chains’ movement with the flick of his fingers. Erik gritted his teeth, struggling against the bonds, but they held him fast, the runes binding him to the very spot he stood in. In his panic, Erik started to pull his arms and legs till he started to thrash, but was quickly subdued by the pull of the chains into a tighter formation.

  Around him, the cultists began to chant louder, their voices a haunting melody that echoed off the stone walls. One by one, they began to disrobe, dropping their robes to the floor until they stood, naked and unabashed, their bodies bathed in the flickering torchlight. Erik blinked through the pain, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The cultists, now entirely bare, began to jump up and down in unison, their flabby bodies jiggling with every enthusiastic hop. The sight was surreal; like watching a group of overzealous toddlers having the world’s weirdest playtime.

  Erik couldn't help but stare, his mouth slightly agape despite the agony radiating from his chained limbs. There were dramatic pauses in the cultists' movements, moments when they would stop mid-hop, their bodies hanging in the air for a split second before gravity took over, causing all manner of skin and body parts to flap and bounce with reckless abandon.

  “Is this... seriously happening?” Erik groaned, half in disbelief and half in pain.

  He glanced at Thalion, who stood stoically at the side, completely unfazed by the bizarre ritual.

  “Are they... is this part of the plan?” Erik asked, his voice strained as he fought the urge to laugh despite the pain.

  The cultists’ movements grew more frenzied, their chanting reaching a fever pitch as they flailed about, their “personal business” swinging with an enthusiasm that seemed almost comical. One particularly enthusiastic cultist tripped over his own feet, landing with an awkward splat, only to scramble back up and resume his jumping with unbroken zeal. Erik squeezed his eyes shut, a mix of pain and sheer absurdity making his head spin.

  “Oh, for the love of; can we skip to the part where I don’t have to see all this?” he muttered under his breath.

  Suddenly, the pain in his body vanished, replaced by a soothing warmth that spread through him like a balm. Erik opened his eyes, gasping in surprise as he realized Dominion was casting a healing spell, the chains retreating from his body as his wounds closed. Relief flooded through him, the agonizing pressure dissipating in an instant.

  The cultists, however, continued their strange dance, their bodies glistening with sweat as they bounced with increasing fervor. The ground beneath Erik’s feet began to glow, a circle of runes blazing to life around him. The air grew thick with energy, a palpable force that seemed to vibrate through his bones. And then, with a final, collective leap, the cultists froze mid-air. Their bodies went still, their eyes rolled back, and one by one, they crumpled to the ground, lifeless. The energy they had been summoning converged above the altar, swirling in a vortex of green light. Dominion, his face devoid of emotion, raised his hands, guiding the energy into a single point; a stone that rested on the altar. The stone pulsed with an eerie, otherworldly green glow, a swirling mix of colors that seemed to defy reality. It was a nexus of concentrated magic, created from the very life force of the cultists who now lay dead around them.

  Erik’s heart sank as the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. He looked around at the bodies, his stomach churning.

  “They... they sacrificed themselves. This is what I agreed to?” he whispered, the weight of what had happened pressing down on him.

  Dominion turned to Erik, his expression unreadable.

  “This stone contains the essence of the cultists; their magical energy and core have been absorbed completely. Your core and the meridians in your body, Erik, can only be initiated by a massive influx of magical energy. The most potent form is found in the cores of those who willingly give their lives for a higher purpose. This is what you must feed on.”

  Erik felt his knees weaken, a sickening dread pooling in his stomach.

  “Feed on... their essence?” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

  Before he could react, his hand moved of its own accord. The twisted mouth of the demon formed on his palm, its eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger snatched the stone from Dominions outstretched hand. Erik tried to pull back, but the demon’s will overpowered him.

  The mouth opened wide, and with a single, greedy gulp, it swallowed the stone whole. Erik felt a rush of energy flood through him, the raw power filling the void within his core and his meridians. The sensation was overwhelming; both exhilarating and terrifying as he gasped feeling the power surge through his body like blossoming waves from a stone thrown in a placid pond. ,

  “The power within you is vast, but it comes at a cost. To sustain yourself, you must continue to feed, to draw upon the essence of others. Only then can you hope to keep the demon within you in check.”

  Erik looked around, his eyes wide with a mix of horror and disbelief. The bodies of the cultists lay still, their lifeless forms a stark reminder of the price that had been paid. He had thought he was simply seeking a way to survive, but now he realized the true cost of that survival

  His hand, now free of the demonic mouth, hung at his side, trembling slightly. Erik swallowed hard, his throat dry.

  “What have I done?” he whispered, the weight of his actions settling over him like a shroud.

  The elder stepped forward, placing a hand on Erik’s shoulder once again.

  “You have embraced the power within you. Now, you must learn to control it, to harness it for a greater purpose.”

  The realization of what he had done; of what he had accepted for power began to tear at the carefully constructed walls he had erected in his mind to stay calm, to cope, to survive.

  The very walls that had kept him strong through years of being the outsider, of being looked down upon, of trying to prove his worth in a world that demanded magic he didn’t possess were crumbling now, and Erik felt an overwhelming wave of panic and grief wash over him. He took a step back, his knees threatening to buckle. He could feel the magic energy surging through his body, reshaping him, molding him into something new.

  The changes were undeniable; his body, once lean and hardened from a life of physical labor and training, had transformed into something beyond human. His muscles were defined, honed to the physique of a world-class warrior, his senses sharpened to a razor’s edge. He could feel every breath of air, every vibration in the ground, every heartbeat around him.

  But it was stolen power, borrowed from those who had sacrificed themselves. He could feel the weight of their lives within him, their essence fueling his every movement, every heartbeat. It was as if he were a vessel, filled to the brim with the energy of the dead, and the burden of it threatened to crush him. His vision blurred as tears welled up, and he clenched his fists, trying to steady himself.

  “What have I done?” he whispered, his voice barely audible. He felt an overwhelming sense of survivor’s guilt. He had lived, while others had died to give him this power. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

  Erik’s mind was a storm, memories flashing before his eyes; his father’s cold gaze as he was enslaved, the sneers of his peers, the feeling of helplessness that had haunted him all his life. He had always wanted to be strong, to prove himself, but not like this. Not at the cost of others’ lives. He had wanted freedom, but now he felt more trapped than ever, bound by the power within him and the expectations of those around him.

  “You are overwhelmed. Of course you are. A mere human trying to shoulder the weight of something beyond your understanding. I will help.” The demon finally spoke with Erik’s mind.

  “Help me?” Erik spat back, his mental voice filled with bitterness.

  “You want to help me? You, a demon who wants nothing more than to break free and take over my body?”

  “Obviously!” The demons laugh was cold, condescending. “But let’s not pretend you’re in any position to refuse me. You think you can handle this alone? You’re barely holding on. I can feel your mind unraveling like a fragile glass thread wound too tight. However I have no intention of letting us both shatter because you are too weak.”

  Erik was silent for a moment, his mind reeling. He hated the demon; hated what it represented, the darkness that now lived within him. But he knew the Demon was right… he could feel himself unraveling, He needed something; anything to help him hold on.

  “What are you suggesting?” Erik asked, his voice shaky.

  “A contract,” The demon replied, his voice like a blade slicing through the storm of Erik's thoughts.

  “I will erect barriers in your mind; stronger barriers that will keep the memories, the pain, the guilt at bay. But such a service will not come for free. You must give me something in return.”

  “What do you want?” Erik demanded, though he had a sinking feeling he already knew.

  “One of your eyes,” the demon said, his tone almost casual, yet laced with an edge of demand.

  “Give me one of your eyes, and I will be able to see through it. I will provide you with guidance, clarity, and in times of desperate need, I will lend you my strength. You will be able to use demonic magic instead of the magic within your core. The risk is yours to take.”

  Erik hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He was already bound to this demon, already sharing his soul. What was one more piece of himself?

  “What if I refuse?” Erik asked.

  “Then you will crumble,” the demon said, his tone dripping with disdain.

  “And I will have lost an opportunity to control a perfect vessel that could give me the power I need. There is a path forward, but only if you have the courage to take it.”

  Erik took a deep breath, his heart pounding. He didn’t want to do this and didn’t want to give up another piece of himself to this demon. But the thought of losing himself, of being consumed by the power within him, was far more terrifying.

  “Fine,” Erik said, his voice steady.

  He felt a searing pain in his right eye, a blinding flash of light as the demon reached into him, taking what it had asked for. Erik clenched his teeth, his body tensing as the pain radiated through his skull. He felt the world around him shift, his vision narrowing, darkening on one side.

  And then it was over. The pain receded, and Erik opened his remaining eye, blinking against the sudden brightness. He could feel the Demons presence more strongly now, a connection that went deeper than before. The demon’s voice echoed in his mind, smooth but with an edge of superiority.

  “It is done, Erik. You have given me sight, and in return, I have given you strength. The barriers are in place. You will not unravel today, but do not mistake this for charity.”

  Erik looked around, his vision now split; one side seeing the world as it was, the other seeing it through the demon’s eyes. It was disorienting, but there was a strange clarity to it, a sense of focus that hadn’t been there before.

  Dominion watched as Erik stood there, his body trembling from the ordeal. He could see the change as Eriks posture straightened, and a new crimson color glowed within one of his eyes brokering a new intensity. The contract had been made, and the demon was now more deeply entwined with Erik than ever before.

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