The night after Fei He's first spark, the temple's stone walls seemed to breathe, and the air grew heavy with a low, guttural chant. The drake, its snout still smoking from the ember, lifted its massive head and let out a roar that rattled the ancient pillars. From the shadows, a legion of lesser creatures—scaled hounds, winged serpents, and hulking stone golems—emerged, eyes glinting with a hunger for order. Their master, a towering beast known as the Keeper of Chains, stepped forward, its iron‑clad limbs clanking with each deliberate stride.
"Human child with the mark, you have dared to awaken power," the Keeper intoned, voice echoing like a cavernous bell. "You will be taken to the Hall of Shackles, where your spark will be smothered and your will bound for eternity." The Keeper raised a massive, rune‑etched cage, its bars forged from a metal that absorbed magic, and motioned for its minions to seize Fei He.
Fei He's heart hammered, but the ember on his palm flared brighter, as if sensing the threat. He thrust his hand forward, and a burst of flame shot toward the oncoming hounds, scattering them in a shower of ash. He twisted, using the momentum to dash between the stone golems, his small frame slipping through gaps that seemed too narrow for a child. With each step, he whispered the lullaby his mother taught him, and the words formed a thin veil of wind that pushed against the creatures, buying him precious seconds.
He reached the central courtyard, where a massive iron gate, half‑open, led to the outer tunnels. As he sprinted toward it, a winged serpent swooped down, its talons aiming for his shoulder. Fei He ducked, and in his haste, he misjudged the distance to a low stone ledge. His foot caught on a protruding slab, and he stumbled, the ember sputtering out for a heartbeat. That moment of hesitation was all the Keeper needed. A chain, thick as a man's arm, shot from the cage, wrapping around Fei He's ankle and yanking him back with a force that sent him crashing onto the cold stone.
Pain exploded through his leg, and the ember flickered, then died. The Keeper's minions swarmed, dragging him toward the cage. Fei He fought with every ounce of strength, kicking and clawing, but the metal bars were cold and unyielding. As the cage door clanged shut, a final, desperate scream escaped his lips, echoing off the temple walls. The Keeper's voice boomed, "You will learn obedience, child of mark, within these walls."
Inside the dim, stone‑walled chamber, Fei He lay on a slab of cold rock, the silver sigil on his forehead throbbing with a faint, dying light. The room was a prison of silence, broken only by the distant drip of water and the occasional clank of chains. Yet, even in that darkness, a tiny ember of resolve glowed within him, promising that one day, he would break free and turn his captors' chains into ash.