Chapter 225: Free
The cavern was silent save for the muted whimpers of the chained Beastkin. The Glory Chasers spread out warily, taking a rough formation around the black-cloaked demonkin. The darkness beyond the sphere of light felt endless and oppressive, pressing in on us from all directions. Even my Demonkin eyes couldn’t pierce far enough through the darkness to make out the walls, or the source of the crying. Just how massive was this cavern?
"Who are you?" Sorrin asked, his eyes never leaving the demonkin.
The demonkin smiled and spread his arms wide. "Your future, slave. But in more certain terms, I am but a lowly servant of the Circle of Chains. You may call me Vithrass until the time comes that ’Master’ is more suitable."
His eyes raked over our party, coming to rest on me. I took an unconscious step back, terrified of the future I saw reflected in his glowing irises. There were chains, cages, and whips, as well as broken cries of suffering. I had seen eyes like those before in Lord Byron, and now the very thought of his name made me want to curl up and cry.
The demonkin took a long, deep breath, as though he were smelling a flower. His long, pointed tongue slipped between his pointed teeth, slowly licking his lips. "I see one of you has tasted the Joys before. Lord Byron, if I’m not mistaken? Truly a marvel among men, that one. Pity he was taken from us."
My chest tightened, painfully limiting my breath. A violent tremor tore through my body, and I stumbled back until I collided with the wall. The cold, unrelenting touch of steel bit into my wrists and neck, and fiery lashes pricked up and down my back.
"Starlight?" Tana asked, taking a step toward me. "What is he talking about? Who’s this Byron?"
"M-master," I stammered instinctively, clutching my staff before me. "But h-how?"
Vithrass strode confidently forward, only stopping as Sorrin and Dyson raised their blades in warning. "All great masters have a distinct mark, visible only to the trained eye. it’s in your stance, your eyes, and even your soul. The Joys are branded on you, and no matter how you run, you cannot escape. It will be a pleasure to remind you of them."
"Not another word," Dyson said, "Whatever you’re doing to her, stop it."
The demonkin’s pleasant countenance twisted into a snarl. "I don’t take orders from slaves."