Immortal: Death in love

The Awakening - chains of fate

The Oracle’s castle was silent after Lucius’s departure.

Morgana sat alone in the dark, the last of the witch’s enchantment fading from her veins, leaving behind nothing but the hollow ache of regret. The moment Lucius had vanished through the gates, her heart had shattered into something colder than glass. She no longer heard the whispers of the Oracle, nor the wind that moaned through the stone corridors. Only her own sobs echoed against the walls.

But Lucius had not gone far. He lingered beyond the castle’s shadow, hidden among the vines that wrapped its ancient towers. His hands were torn and bleeding from climbing the walls, yet he would not stop. He could not. He had left half his soul behind in that cursed fortress, and no power on earth would keep him from her.

Inside, Morgana sat shackled to the floor of a small chamber, her wrists bruised, her eyes pale and empty. The Oracle had stripped her of her sight, calling it the price of defiance. Morgana had begged for mercy, but the Oracle only smiled and said, “You wished to see love clearly. Now you will see nothing at all.”

Days passed, or perhaps weeks, time meant nothing in that place. Morgana no longer knew if it was night or morning; only the sound of her own breathing reminded her she was still alive. She whispered Lucius’s name until her voice turned raw.

“Forgive me… please find me…”

The door creaked open one evening, and the Oracle stepped inside, her white robes glowing faintly in the dim light. “Your love is a disease,” she said coldly. “And I am the cure.” With a flick of her hand, the chains that bound Morgana fell away. “Come. It is time you fulfill your purpose.”

The Oracle led her down a long, spiraling stairwell that seemed to descend into the earth itself. At its end stood a stone altar carved with strange, ancient runes. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and death. Morgana’s heart pounded as she realized what was to happen.

“Why are you doing this?” she cried, trembling. “You said you wanted to stop the prophecy!”

“I am,” the Oracle said, her tone calm and unyielding. “The beast cannot awaken if you die before love’s fire burns again.”

She pushed Morgana to her knees before the altar and raised her hands to the ceiling, whispering words in a language lost to men. Shadows gathered around them, coiling like snakes. Morgana felt the ground tremble beneath her palms. Her breath hitched, this was the end.

But then,

A voice, desperate and furious, echoed through the chamber.

“Let her go!”

Lucius burst into the hall, sword drawn, his eyes wild with exhaustion and fury. His body bore the marks of his climb, torn clothes, bloodied hands, but his heart burned like a storm. He lunged toward the Oracle, swinging his blade. She deflected his strike with a wave of her hand, sending him crashing into the wall. But Lucius rose again, teeth clenched, eyes locked on Morgana.

“Lucius…” Morgana’s voice broke as she turned blindly toward his sound. “You came back…”

“I will always come back to you,” he said, charging once more.

This time his blade grazed the Oracle’s shoulder. A sharp cry escaped her lips as blood spilled across her white robes. For a heartbeat, her power faltered. Lucius took Morgana’s hand and pulled her to her feet. Together, they ran through corridors of stone, through halls that seemed to shift and twist, until they burst through the great doors of the castle and into the black forest beyond.

Behind them, the Oracle’s voice rose in a scream that shook the earth. “You cannot escape fate! You have doomed the world!”

They did not stop running until the trees opened to reveal a stream glittering under moonlight. Only then did they collapse, gasping for air. Lucius cupped Morgana’s face, his thumb brushing away the tears that stained her cheeks.

“I can’t see,” she whispered. “She took my sight.”

Lucius’s chest tightened. He pulled her into his arms, pressing his forehead to hers. “Then I’ll be your eyes,” he murmured. “You’ll never walk blind while I breathe.”

For the first time since the Oracle’s curse, Morgana smiled faintly. Her fingers traced the shape of his jaw as if memorizing it. “I thought I had lost you forever.”

“You’ll lose me only when I am dead,” he said softly. “And even then, I’ll find a way to love you.”

The night was cold and quiet. He laid her down gently beside the stream, his heart breaking at how fragile she seemed beneath his touch. He brushed her hair from her face and kissed her forehead, then her lips slowly, reverently. Morgana trembled beneath his touch, her body responding to the warmth she had long been denied.

He held her by the arm, then placing his hands on her face, caressing her gently. He held her by her waist softly, leaning forward to her ear and whispered “I love you “. Morgana felt a cold rush through her body and her eyes filled up with tears as Lucius placed his lips on hers and kissed her so deep. Immediately her eyes were bright as the sun–she could see. She screamed so loud in disbelief and excitement as she hugged him tightly and returned his kiss.

The atmosphere was aroused, he laid her to the ground kissing her by the neck slowly as he calmly massages her thighs with his hands, he kisses her down to her cleavage. Steadily he losses her dress until she was no longer clothed, he’s beneath was as sharp as a sword, as if it could bore a hole into her body, he gently pressed it into her, Morgana held him by his back tightly as she moaned with pleasure

Their love ignited once more under the shroud of the cursed forest. Every breath, every whispered promise, every tear that fell between them became a plea to the heavens to spare them, or to end them together.

And deep within the heart of the earth, something stirred.

A pulse. A growl.

A sound that was not of this world.

Aliath.

The beast’s awakening tore through the silence of the night. The ground cracked, the trees bent as though in prayer, and the air filled with the scent of fire and blood. Morgana clung to Lucius as the sky split apart in a blaze of red light. Somewhere far away, the Oracle fell to her knees, screaming in despair.

The prophecy… it has begun.

By morning, all was still again. The forest lay quiet, though the scent of ash lingered. Morgana woke with her head against Lucius’s chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her ear. She thought, for a fragile moment, that the nightmare had passed. But fate had only drawn nearer.

They wandered until the trees thinned and a valley opened before them. Exhaustion shadowed their faces, yet Lucius kept his arm around her shoulders, guiding her step by step. “We’re free now,” he whispered, though the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

But freedom was a fleeting lie.

By midday, they heard the sound of hooves in the distance, metal against stone, voices shouting orders. Before they could flee, soldiers surrounded them, their armor gleaming beneath the sun.

A tall man rode forward, his cloak lined with crimson. His eyes, sharp and cold, fell upon Morgana. “So,” he said, dismounting. “The witch’s child lives after all.”

Lucius stepped in front of her, blade raised. “Who are you?”

“I am King Tyran,” the man said, his voice like thunder. “And she belongs to me.”

Morgana’s heart froze. “Belongs?”

“The witch who gave you life,” Tyran continued, “was mine to command. You are the gift she promised me, a child born of prophecy and magic. You will not escape your destiny.”

Lucius moved between them, rage burning in his eyes. “Over my dead body.”

The king smiled darkly. “That can be arranged.”

Before Lucius could strike, the soldiers seized him. Morgana screamed, thrashing against their grasp as they bound Lucius’s hands in chains. Tyran turned to her, brushing a strand of hair from her face as though she were a delicate ornament. “You are far too beautiful to waste in the wild. Come to my court, child of prophecy. There, you will learn what it means to serve your king.”

Morgana spat at his feet. “I serve no one.”

Her defiance only amused him. “We shall see.”

As they dragged Lucius toward the horses, Morgana’s cries tore through the valley, a sound so raw it echoed against the mountains. Above them, the clouds thickened once more, and far beyond mortal sight, the beast Aliath spread its wings.

The world shuddered, and fate whispered its cruel truth.

The lovers were together again, but every heartbeat they shared brought the end one step closer.

The journey to King Tyran’s castle was long and brutal.

The soldiers rode fast, dragging Morgana and Lucius behind them like spoils of war. The ropes around their wrists cut deep, and the cold wind bit through their torn clothes. Morgana’s eyes, newly opened, burned beneath the sunlight, each color too bright, too alive after so long in darkness.

She turned her head toward Lucius, who rode beside her, his hands bound but his spirit unbroken. His eyes met hers briefly, and though neither spoke, their silence screamed louder than any words.

At the head of the procession, King Tyran rode tall and proud, his crimson cloak trailing behind like spilled blood. He looked back often, watching Morgana with an expression that shifted between fascination and hunger. The way he gazed at her made her stomach twist with dread.

When the towering gates of the castle came into view, Morgana felt the air grow heavier. Black stone walls rose like jagged mountains, crowned with banners bearing Tyran’s crest, a serpent devouring its own tail. Inside, the air smelled of iron, smoke, and old sorrow.

The soldiers dismounted, shoving Lucius to his knees before the king’s throne. Morgana was dragged beside him, her hair disheveled, her wrists raw from the ropes. The grand hall glittered with torches and gold, yet there was no warmth only the cold gleam of power.

Tyran sat on his throne, eyes fixed on Morgana. “You are as radiant as she promised,” he said, voice smooth as silk and sharp as a blade.

Morgana glared up at him. “Who promised you anything?”

He smiled. “Your mother, of course.”

Her breath caught. “You lie.”

“Oh no, child.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on one gloved hand. “She came to me long before you were born. She sought my aid to save her coven. In return, she promised me her firstborn. A daughter woven with magic and destiny.”

Morgana’s heart pounded. “You’re lying,” she repeated, though her voice trembled this time.

Tyran rose slowly, descending the steps until he stood before her. His hand brushed her chin, forcing her to look up into his eyes. “Your eyes betray you. You have her power. Her curse. And now, you are mine to command.”

Lucius lunged forward despite his chains. “Touch her again, and I’ll kill you.”