Chapter 3 - The Prisoner of the Deep Citadel
The lower dungeons of the Citadel were carved directly into raw, weeping stone. Water dripped from the ceiling, echoing like a ticking clock in the dark.
The boy—whose true name, Julian, had been whispered only in nightmares—sat chained to a cold stone pillar. His shoulder still throbbed where the ancient mark pulsed beneath his skin, casting a faint, warm amber glow against the damp walls.
Outside the heavy iron bars of his cell, something massive shifted in the darkness of the subterranean corridor.
Clang. Clang.
The sound of heavy iron chains dragging across the floor signaled the arrival of the beast. It had not been locked in a standard cage; the creature had simply followed its master, refusing to leave the perimeter of Julian's prison. Now, it crouched just outside the cell door, its massive snout pressed against the iron bars, keeping a relentless watch over the boy.
Footsteps echoed down the hall. A cloaked figure emerged from the shadows, slipping past the sleeping guards with effortless grace.
The hood fell back to reveal Queen Eleanor.
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Tears glistened in her eyes as she knelt before the cell door, pressing her trembling hand against Julian’s cheek. "My boy," she choked out, her voice breaking. "Forgive me. I didn't know you were alive."
Julian looked at her, his eyes carrying the weight of a lifetime spent surviving the streets. "You didn't protect me then," he said softly, his voice devoid of anger, bearing only a heavy truth. "You have to protect me now. Because the king is coming."
