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Home / Urban / THE SECRET HEIR AND HIS SECRET POWER / Season 2-Chp 62
Season 2-Chp 62
Author: Wednesday Adaire
last update2025-06-07 01:41:58

The shattered rune smoldered where it fell—ashes glowing with the last defiance of a force that had spent eternity waiting to rewrite the world. It crackled faintly before dissolving into dust. Gone. Denied.

Margareth lowered her hand, the last silver ember fading from her palm. She didn’t sway, didn’t falter. Her face was calm, lit by the twin-colored chain that still wrapped around her chest like a living brand of choice.

Around her, the gathered bearers watched in silence.

Even Ashiel stood still—no clever remarks, no cryptic insight—only reverence. Because what they had just witnessed wasn’t a battle.

It was a redefinition.

The man who had once been the veiled figure staggered to his knees. His mortal face, weathered by time, was no longer veiled in mist, but it held centuries of fury behind tired eyes.

“You will regret this,” he said.

“No,” Margareth replied, voice low but resolute. “We only regret the things we never claim.”

He tried to rise, but vines—formed of runes and fire—w
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  • Season 2-Chp 68

    The First Ending stood where no god should walk, its form bending through time, memory, and fate like a blade through still water. Its presence rewrote the concept of presence itself. The spiral at Cian’s feet pulsed silver, trembling not from fear—but from uncertainty.Cian stood within the fractured center, his breath shallow, his voice caught between wonder and terror. Around him, his companions formed a wide ring. Not close enough to interrupt. Not distant enough to abandon.“You asked for a story,” Cian said.The First Ending nodded once, its form shifting again—from Margareth’s eyes to Ashiel’s brow, to a younger Jerome’s grin.“One I have not heard.”Cian looked down at his hands. Runes still flickered across his skin—remnants of a chain once carried, still echoing through the marrow. But this wasn’t about power anymore.It was about narrative.“I don’t have the kind of story you want,” Cian said.The First Ending tilted its head.“Try.”Ashiel whispered, “Be careful. This isn’

  • Season 2-Chp 67

    No longer glowing. No longer whispering. Its runes dimmed, content. But the air surrounding it did not relax. It hummed with a tension just beneath comprehension—like a harp string pulled taut but never plucked. Something was watching. Something waiting.Cian stood at its center, marked now not by fire or gold, but by absence. His palms, once so steady, bore the imprint of his choice—runes that shimmered and vanished with every breath.He had given away his future name.He had stopped the ancient debt from consuming Jerome.He had shifted the balance of the chain itself.And now… he didn’t know what that meant.Jerome sat on the edge of the runes, still reeling from what had almost been taken. His essence had nearly been pulled from the world—not his power, but his potential. A true erasure. The kind that couldn’t be undone with magic or memory.“I should’ve warned you,” Jerome said, voice low.Cian didn’t turn around. “You did. I just didn’t care.”Margareth stood at Jerome’s side, h

  • Season 2-Chp 66

    The unraveling chain floated between Cian’s hands, the glow of its dismantled links pulsing like a heartbeat laid bare. Around him, time itself seemed to hold its breath. The thing rising from beneath the original pillar was not merely ancient—it was fundamental.It wasn’t darkness. It wasn’t light.It was what remained when both had names but no purpose.And now, it had returned to collect what had been left behind.“I gave back the chain,” Cian said, voice trembling but not faltering. “Take it. And end it.”The being loomed over him, its body an ever-changing storm of forms. Wings and spikes. Smoke and flesh. Nothing lasted more than a second. It couldn’t hold shape because no truth was absolute enough to bind it.It was Memory Unpaid.Debt Given Form.“You think giving is the end of owing,” the being said, voice like a chasm speaking. “But the first fire was not lit with intention. It was stolen. And every spark since has borrowed its breath.”Ashiel stepped forward, magic flickeri

  • Season 2-Chp 65

    Not just pulsing like magic but expanding and contracting like something alive, something that had found its rhythm again after a thousand years of seizure and silence. And standing in its center—unarmed, unarmored, unknown—was Cian.His body didn’t look powerful. He hadn’t grown taller, hadn’t suddenly become divine. But everything around him changed shape because of how he stood. The chain, still coiled across his chest, had begun to whisper—not in any language known to bearers, but in feelings.Joy layered with sorrow. Memory laced with fear. Truth without punishment.And yet even now, even in this quiet, something remained unsettled.Jerome stood outside the edge of the rune circle, watching. Not with envy. Not even reverence. Just care. He had carried so much power in his time—broken nations with silence and shaped others with a glance. But what Cian had accepted wasn’t rule.It was exposure.“He’s too calm,” Syra muttered.Ashiel hummed thoughtfully. “No. He’s just not resisting

  • Season 2-Chp 64

    .The chain—still forming, still pulsing—coiled around his chest and shoulders like a serpent made of ash and starlight. It didn’t bind him. It danced. One moment it glowed like a sun carved in gold, the next it burned blue, cold and watchful, ancient in its indifference.Jerome watched from the edge of the circle. His heart pounded. Not in fear for Cian’s life, but something harder to face:Hope.Hope that perhaps the world could begin again—through someone who had never ruled, never fought, never bled under the weight of power.Margareth whispered, “He’s… holding it.”Ashiel nodded, voice hushed with something dangerously close to reverence. “Not holding. Merging.”Around the circle, the other bearers—Calith, Syra, Rhydan—stood in silence. They had wielded power for centuries. And yet none of them had ever seen a chain born in front of them.Cian took one step forward.His foot landed softly on the earth, and the rune beneath it lit up, not in warning, but in recognition.“I feel eve

  • Season 2-Chp 63

    The First Flame stood in the center of the spiral, barefoot, flickering.The light emanating from her was not searing like wildfire or blinding like lightning. It was old. A warmth that reached the marrow. A remembrance of every fire ever lit. And every one ever snuffed.Her form flickered with each breath. One moment she looked like a child, innocent and curious. The next, her features twisted subtly — eyes too ancient, voice too layered — as though all eras lived behind her stare.“I remember being a whisper,” she said softly. “Then a beacon. Then a blade.”No one responded immediately.Even Ashiel, ever ready with commentary or counsel, stood silent. The gravity of what had appeared in front of them had silenced doctrine and instinct alike.Only Jerome had the courage to step forward.“You said a new chain must be forged,” he said. “Why?”The First Flame tilted her head, and with it, the entire spiral glowed deeper.“Because what exists now is incomplete,” she said. “You all rewrot

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