The cell door opened, and the head of my father’s royal guard, a beast of a man named Ulf, entered, four more guards at his heels.
The guards’ hands clamped around my arms like iron bands. I thrashed, but they shoved me to my knees, my shoulders screaming in protest as rough stone scraped my legs. One man sliced my shirt from my back. My hands fisted as two others pinned my ankles.
My father gripped my jaw. “You do not refuse your king,” he gritted out softly. “This is mercy, Calix. Without it, you’re already dead.”
“And yet, I still refuse.”
Pain exploded as his fist connected with my face. Bone splintered. Blood gushed down my lip as his guards held me firmly.
While I considered myself clever and had powers, my inability to wield them effectively, especially against someone like my father, limited me.
This battle was already lost.
“Only the Bound can be Sealed,” I gasped. The guards tightened their hold. “You can’t seal me—I’m not Bound. It could destroy my powers forever.”
Regret flashed in my father’s face as his thumb brushed my jaw. The touch felt foreign—almost gentle—but it didn’t temper the iron in his eyes. Blood smeared his fingers, and he pulled his hand back, staring at it. His hesitation was palpable.
Seconds ticked by, and my heartbeat was erratic with fleeting hope. He wouldn’t really do this to his own son … would he?
For a moment, I thought he might stop.
“I’m King Magnus Warrick of Lirien. I can seal whomever I want, to whichever realm I want. And if the Sealing binds your other powers forever, so be it.” He rounded behind me as Ulf forced my head down in a vise-like grip.
I dug my heels into the stone, thrashing. Futile. Their grips were unyielding. The cool press of the blade against my skin sent a shiver of foreboding down my spine.
My father loomed behind me, whispering incantations in Old Ederyn. The razor-edged blade sliced into my skin, carving symbols between my shoulder blades. Agony radiated through me. The incantation felt alive, heavy with power, each syllable cutting deeper than the blade itself.
Blood spilled in rivulets over my shoulders, its heat trickling down my sides. The metallic scent clawed at my senses, sharp and suffocating. My jaw clenched, a scream trapped in my throat, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I focused on the red drops, desperate to steady my breath.
The Seal burned, alive with magic, etching itself into the flesh between my shoulder blades. I didn’t have to see it to know its shape: crimson and black, intricate as ink, a crossed sword and shield—the symbol of Pendara.
When he’d finished, my father faced me, wiping my blood from his blade across my chest in an X. The fire searing my back refused to abate, magic sinking into every nerve, leaving me trembling with rage and pain.
I refused my father’s gaze.
“You will leave here today and go to Pendara. Present yourself to the warlord in Cairn Hold. For two years, you’ll train alongside their most skilled warriors. Your other powers will be Bound and the name Calix Warrick is forbidden to you. Only when you’ve proven yourself will I remove the Seal. Do you understand?”
I closed my eyes, my head pounding fiercely. The powerful magic surged through my veins, limiting my speech. The Seal conferred special abilities, honing its recipient’s skills. But the process was excruciating.
And in my case, it was destroying every other power I possessed.
The fire that had always simmered at the edge of my veins snuffed out.
Desolation curled through my core as an integral part of my being was ripped away.
The Bloodbinding.
This was what the rite did to every child born outside of Ederyn. On the king’s orders, their gods-given gifts were suppressed, unless those gifts aligned with their realm’s lawful craft.
Now I knew what it truly meant to be Bound. To have the very essence of who I was smothered, flickering out like a dying flame. This was the fate of every child born beyond Ederyn’s borders.
And now, it was mine.
I would never be myself again.
Humiliation and anger flooded me. My father’s punishment was a stark reminder of why no one—including my brothers—dared disobey him.
“Yes, Father,” I rasped.
