Chapter 2: The Prisoner with Golden Eyes
1587 Words
The temple beneath San Isidro had not always been a prison.
Long ago, it was a place of offering.
Stone altars. Burning incense. Prayers whispered to the forest so it would remain “kind.”
But over time, kindness turned into fear.
And fear turned into locks.
Now the temple was buried beneath the village like a buried secret that refused to die—stone corridors reinforced with iron, walls etched with sealing symbols older than most written language in the region.
And at its center—
A cage that had never held a human before.
Kael stood at the top of the stone stairwell, staring down into the darkness below.
The air smelled wrong.
Metallic. Old blood. Burnt herbs.
Mira stood behind him, arms crossed tightly. “You don’t have to go down there,” she said.
Kael didn’t answer immediately.
Because the truth was simple:
He didn’t feel like he had a choice.
Since the moment the man with golden eyes had spoken inside his mind, something had shifted in Kael’s chest—like a door that had always been locked was finally starting to creak open.
“I need to see him,” Kael said quietly.
Mira frowned. “They said he’s dangerous.”
Kael glanced back at her. “So am I, apparently. If everyone is right about him… then I should understand why.”
That didn’t reassure her.
But she didn’t stop him either.
That was Mira. She argued like a storm, but she never held people back when they were already falling.
Kael descended the stairs.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
The deeper he went, the more the pendant around his neck grew warm—like it was reacting to something waiting below.
The guards at the entrance of the temple stiffened when they saw him.
One stepped forward. “You are not permitted—”
“I was called by Elder Sera,” Kael interrupted.
That wasn’t entirely true.
But no one questioned it.
Elder authority outweighed curiosity.
The guard hesitated, then stepped aside.
The iron door opened with a groan.
And Kael entered the prison.
The prisoner sat in the center of a circular chamber.
Chains ran from his wrists and ankles into the stone floor, anchored with thick iron bolts marked with silver runes. Symbols of suppression covered every surface—some glowing faintly, others dimming as if tired.
The man didn’t look up at first.
His head was bowed. Hair falling over his face.
But Kael felt him immediately.
Like stepping into a storm already in motion.
The air itself felt alive around him.
Kael moved closer slowly.
“Mira, stay back,” he said without turning.
She stood near the doorway, tense.
The prisoner finally lifted his head.
Golden eyes.
Still burning, but dimmer than before.
And now Kael saw him properly.
He was younger than the village elders who made him sound. Maybe mid-twenties. Sharp features. Bruises already forming along his jaw from the binding rituals.
But there was something else.
Something not human in the way he looked at Kael.
Recognition.
Relief.
And something like… grief.
“You came,” the prisoner said softly.
His voice was rough, like it had been used too little or too much.
Kael stopped a few feet away.
“I didn’t come for you,” Kael replied.
A lie again.
The prisoner gave a faint smile. “You don’t need to lie. Not here.”
Kael swallowed. “Who are you?”
Silence.
Then the prisoner looked down at his chained hands.
“That depends on what you remember.”
Kael frowned. “I don’t remember you at all.”
At that, something flickered across the man’s face.
Pain.
But not surprise.
As if he expected that answer.
“Of course you don’t,” he murmured. “They made sure of that.”
Kael stepped closer to himself.
“What are you talking about?”
The prisoner lifted his head again.
This time, his gaze sharpened.
And when he spoke, his voice was quieter—but heavier.
“Your name is Kael. But it wasn’t always.”
Kael’s breath caught slightly.
The prisoner continued.
“You were born under the Blood Moon Cycle. Same as me. Same as the first wolves of the broken pact.”
Mira shifted behind Kael. “Kael… don’t listen to him.”
But Kael couldn’t move.
Because something in his chest was reacting again—like distant thunder behind a locked sky.
The prisoner tilted his head slightly.
“I was sent to find you,” he said.
Kael’s jaw tightened. “Find me for what?”
The prisoner smiled faintly again, but it wasn’t warm.
It was tired.
“For the pack,” he said.
A long silence followed.
Even the torches on the wall seemed to flicker slower.
Kael shook his head slightly. “There is no pack.”
The prisoner’s expression changed.
Not anger.
Sorrow.
“You really don’t remember,” he whispered.
Then he leaned forward slightly against the chains, as far as they allowed.
And the surrounding air changed.
Kael felt it immediately.
Pressure.
Heat.
Something primal pressing against reality itself.
The chains around the prisoner’s wrists began to glow.
Silver runes activated.
The prisoner flinched—but didn’t stop speaking.
“They told you were human,” he said. “They told you the forest was dangerous. That we were monsters.”
Kael’s pulse quickened.
Mira’s voice sharpened behind him. “Kael, step away.”
But Kael didn’t.
Because the pendant around his neck was burning now.
Like it was alive.
The prisoner looked directly into Kael’s eyes.
“But you are not human,” he said softly. “You never were.”
The chamber trembled.
Just slightly.
Like the temple itself had reacted to the words.
Kael stepped back instinctively.
“That’s enough,” he said, his voice tightening.
The prisoner lowered his gaze again.
A quiet moment passed.
Then, softer:
“They took your memory when you were a child,” he said. “After the fracture.”
Kael frowned. “What fracture?”
The prisoner hesitated.
As if choosing which truth would hurt less.
Then he said:
“The night the wolves stopped obeying the moon.”
The words hit something deep inside Kael.
Not a memory.
A sensation.
Cold wind.
Firelight.
Screams in the distance.
And something enormous moving through trees that were burning.
Kael staggered slightly.
Mira rushed forward. “Kael!”
He raised a hand to stop her.
“I’m fine,” he said, though his voice wasn’t convincing.
The prisoner watched him closely.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “You still feel it. That’s why they fear you.”
Kael looked up sharply. “Fear me?”
The prisoner nodded once.
“You are not just one of us,” he said. “You were meant to lead us.”
A sharp silence followed.
Even Mira froze.
Kael’s voice dropped. “Lead who?”
The prisoner looked down at his chains again.
“The ones still alive.”
The temple suddenly felt colder.
Kael took a slow breath. “There are more of you?”
A faint, almost bitter smile.
“There were more,” the prisoner corrected.
That answer landed heavier than any accusation.
Kael stepped closer again despite everything.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
The prisoner finally lifted his head again.
And for the first time, his expression softened completely.
“Because you were lost,” he said. “And I refused to believe you were gone.”
Something cracked in Kael’s chest—not physically, but emotionally, like an old wall giving way.
Before he could respond, footsteps echoed from the stairwell above.
Fast.
Urgent.
Then Elder Sera’s voice cut through the chamber.
“Step away from him.”
Kael turned slightly.
Sera stood at the entrance with two guards.
Her eyes were sharp.
Not surprised.
Prepared.
She had expected this.
“You’ve heard enough,” she said.
Kael didn’t move. “You knew him.”
Sera’s silence confirmed it.
The prisoner looked at her.
And something changed in his expression.
Not fear.
Recognition of betrayal.
Sera raised her hand.
“The prisoner is not to be questioned further,” she ordered. “He is contained for a reason.”
Kael looked between them.
“Then tell me the reason,” he said.
Sera’s eyes flicked briefly to him.
And for a moment—just a moment—something like regret passed through them.
But it went quickly.
“He is what happens when the bond breaks,” she said.
The prisoner’s chains tightened slightly as the runes flared.
He gritted his teeth—but didn’t scream.
Kael looked back at him.
“You said I was like you,” Kael said quietly.
The prisoner nodded once.
Kael’s voice dropped.
“Then what am I becoming?”
The prisoner met his gaze one last time.
And what he said next was almost gentle.
“What you already are,” he replied. “You’re just waking up.”
The temple doors slammed shut behind Kael as he was forced out.
Mira followed quickly, grabbing his arm once they were outside.
“You shouldn’t have gone in there,” she said.
But Kael barely heard her.
Because the pendant on his neck was no longer just warm.
It was pulsing.
Like a heartbeat that wasn’t his own.
And far beyond the village, deep inside Lunaro Grove—
Something howled again.
Closer this time.
- Writer
