A Familiar in Chains
Priyam sat on the edge of the luxurious bed, staring at the glowing mark on his left hand. The runes pulsed faintly, radiating a warmth that sent shivers up his spine. It was a constant reminder of his forced contract with Evelyne—a bond he neither understood nor accepted.
“This can’t be happening…” he muttered.
His mind reeled. He wasn’t a hero. He had no magic, no swordsmanship, no divine blessing. Just an ordinary guy thrown into a world where weakness was a death sentence.
The door creaked open, breaking his spiral of thoughts.
Evelyne stepped in, her violet eyes sharp. She was still in her ceremonial robe, the golden embroidery glinting under the candlelight. Behind her, Astrid trailed cautiously, her glasses glinting as she observed the scene.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak so rudely earlier,” Evelyne said, crossing her arms. “You’re my familiar. You will act accordingly.”
Priyam scoffed. “And if I refuse?”
Evelyne’s gaze darkened. With a flick of her wrist, the mark on his hand burned, sending a sharp pain through his body. He grit his teeth, refusing to scream.
“You are bound by my will,” she said coldly. “Defiance only brings suffering.”
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Priyam clenched his fists. He wanted to fight back, but how? He had nothing. No strength, no allies, no escape.
Astrid sighed. “Enough, Evelyne. There’s no need to torment him.”
Evelyne exhaled sharply but lowered her hand. “Fine. But understand this—if you embarrass me in front of the nobility, I won’t be merciful next time.”
With that, she turned on her heel and left.
Astrid lingered, watching Priyam with an unreadable expression.
“You’re different,” she murmured.
He looked up. “You said that before. Care to explain?”
She sat on a nearby chair, adjusting her glasses. “The summoning ritual is designed to call forth powerful magical creatures—dragons, elementals, beasts of legend. Yet, somehow, it chose you.”
Priyam frowned. “So? Maybe it glitched.”
Astrid chuckled. “Magic doesn’t glitch, Priyam. If you were summoned, there’s a reason. And I intend to find out why.”
For a moment, silence hung between them.
Then, Priyam hesitated before asking, “Is there a way to break the contract?”
Astrid tapped her chin. “Theoretically? Yes. But no familiar has ever broken their bond with a summoner before. It’s absolute.”
Priyam’s jaw tightened. Absolute, huh?
Then why… did he feel something stirring inside him?
The Dream of the Forsaken
That night, Priyam barely slept. His mind was restless, torn between fury and uncertainty.
But when he did finally close his eyes, the dream came.
He stood in a vast, ruined kingdom. Blackened towers stretched into a blood-red sky, their once-golden spires shattered. The air crackled with an eerie energy, thick with whispers—countless voices murmuring in a language he didn’t understand.
At the center of it all, a massive throne loomed, carved from obsidian and adorned with ancient runes. A shadowy figure sat upon it, golden eyes glowing like embers.
Priyam stepped forward, drawn toward the figure as if by instinct.
“Who… are you?” he asked.
The figure’s lips curled into a smirk.
“You already know.”
The whispers grew louder, filling his mind with fragments of lost knowledge, of kings and conquerors, of battles waged and thrones forsaken.
His chest tightened.
What… was this feeling?
The moment he reached the throne, the figure vanished, leaving behind only two words that echoed in his soul.
"Wake up."
Awakening
Priyam gasped as he shot up in bed, drenched in sweat. His heart pounded wildly. The dream—no, it felt real.
He glanced at his left hand.
The mark was glowing brighter than before.
Something was changing.
And for the first time since arriving in this world…
He felt power.
To Be Continued…