Chained, p.22
Chained, page 22
Without warning, Caelum seized Kreyn’s wrist.
The grip was firm, unyielding.
In a single, fluid motion, he pulled Kreyn off the main road and into a narrow alley tucked between two stone buildings. The space was tight, shadowed, cluttered with crates and discarded barrels. Caelum pressed them both against the wall, positioning his body as a shield.
Kreyn barely had time to react before a hand covered his mouth.
“—!”
His eyes widened in shock, his body tensing instinctively as confusion surged through him. He tried to speak, but Caelum’s palm was steady, insistent—not cruel, but absolute.
Don’t, Caelum silently commanded.
He leaned just enough to peer past the edge of the alley, eyes narrowing as he focused—not with mortal sight, but with something far sharper.
With his true vision unrestrained, the illusion peeled away.
The two figures outside were no longer simply townsfolk.
Their human forms flickered, distorted at the edges, revealing what lay beneath—skin threaded with infernal markings, eyes reflecting something far too old, far too calculating. Their auras pulsed faintly, restrained but unmistakable.
Demons.
Caelum exhaled slowly through his nose.
So that’s it, he thought. They’re already checking.
But confusion followed immediately after.
How do they know to look for him?
They shouldn’t.
Kreyn had only just escaped. Heaven had barely begun to move. Hell should not have precise information yet—especially not in the mortal realm, and certainly not so quickly.
And they weren’t watching me, Caelum realized.
They were watching Kreyn.
His gaze flicked briefly to the man pressed against the wall beside him. Kreyn’s eyes were still wide, flicking between Caelum’s face and the street beyond, clearly trying to piece together what was happening—and why his mouth was currently being covered.
They don’t know what I am, Caelum concluded. But they know you matter.
Outside, the two demons slowed, scanning the street. One of them frowned slightly, gaze sweeping over doorways and alleys. The other sniffed the air subtly, as if searching for a scent that had suddenly vanished.
Caelum held perfectly still.
No aura.
No movement.
No sound.
After a tense moment, the demons exchanged a look, then continued walking, their steps fading gradually into the noise of the town.
Only when they were gone did Caelum relax.
He lowered his hand from Kreyn’s mouth and released his wrist.
“There are two individuals following us,” Caelum said quietly.
Kreyn blinked once. Twice.
Then, instead of panic, fear, or shock, he frowned thoughtfully and said, “What—because you’re too attractive and beautiful and caught their attention?”
For a split second, Caelum stared at him.
Then—
He laughed.
It was soft, involuntary, genuinely surprised. A sound that escaped him before he could stop it.
“I was expecting,” Caelum said, shaking his head slightly, “fear. Or at least shock.”
Kreyn shrugged lightly. “Well, I was shocked—just not in the way you expected.”
Caelum let out another quiet breath, amusement fading as quickly as it came. His expression hardened again, eyes sharp, alert.
“This isn’t a joke,” he said. “They weren’t mortals.”
Kreyn’s smile faltered.
“They’re demons.”
The word landed heavily in the narrow space.
Kreyn’s eyes widened.
“…What?”
Caelum glanced back toward the street, already calculating their next move. “Which means Hell has started checking quietly. And if they’re already here…”
His gaze returned to Kreyn, serious now.
“We need to move. Fast.”
Chapter 25. We’ve Been Found
Kreyn’s breathing turned shallow and rapid, each inhale scraping his chest as Caelum’s words finally sank in.
Demons.
The alley felt narrower suddenly, the shadows heavier, pressing in from both sides. Only moments ago, the world had felt open—bright, alive, forgiving. He had tasted food without fear, listened to music without flinching, walked without chains biting into his skin. For the first time since waking in the abyss, he had allowed himself to believe—dangerously—that perhaps things were finally easing.
That the worst was behind him.
Now his heart hammered like it was trying to escape his ribs.
His thoughts spiralled, colliding into one another.
Why demons?
Why now?
If they were following him, then they knew something. Or sensed something. Or feared something. The questions clawed at his mind relentlessly.
Do they know I was imprisoned?
Were they the ones who put me there?
But that didn’t make sense. If Hell had wanted him contained, why send an angel—Caelum—to check the abyss? Why not one of their own? Why would Heaven act as the executioner while Hell lurked in the shadows?
None of it aligned.
None of it felt right.
Kreyn dragged a hand through his hair, fingers trembling. He looked at Caelum, searching his face for answers, for reassurance, for something solid to hold onto amid the sudden chaos.
“Why?” he asked, voice unsteady despite his effort to control it. “Why are they following us? Is it because of me?”
He swallowed hard.
“Why them… and not your kind?” he continued. “I don’t understand. If I’m dangerous, if I’m some kind of threat—why didn’t Heaven deal with me? Why is Hell watching me now?”
His eyes searched Caelum’s, desperate for clarity.
“I don’t understand any of this,” he admitted, the words slipping out softer, rawer. “Nothing makes sense.”
For a heartbeat, Caelum said nothing.
He studied Kreyn—not coldly, not dismissively, but with a careful intensity, as if weighing something far heavier than the questions being asked. His jaw tightened. Whatever answers he held, they were not ones he was ready—or willing—to give.
Instead, he placed a firm hand on Kreyn’s shoulder.
“Wait here,” Caelum said quietly, but there was no mistaking the authority in his tone. “Do not move. Do not follow me. Do not go anywhere.”
Kreyn blinked. “What—”
“I’ll be back,” Caelum interrupted, already stepping away, his gaze sweeping the alley one last time. “Stay hidden. Stay still.”
Before Kreyn could protest, before he could ask another question or voice the fear tightening his chest, Caelum turned and disappeared back toward the street—moving with purpose, leaving Kreyn alone in the shadows with unanswered questions and a growing sense that whatever he was… both Heaven and Hell had finally begun to circle.
Kreyn remained frozen where Caelum had left him.
His eyes were still wide, fixed on the empty mouth of the alley, as though Caelum might reappear at any second and finish the conversation he had so abruptly abandoned. But seconds passed. Then more. And nothing changed.
His hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.
Why?
The question burned louder the longer the silence stretched.
Why was it so hard to answer him?
Why did every question he asked meet walls instead of words?
Was it really too much to ask—to know why demons were suddenly involved, why he was being followed, why everything about his existence seemed to pull Heaven and Hell alike into motion?
Or was it simpler than that?
Did he simply not deserve answers?
The thought struck deeper than he expected.
He swallowed hard, jaw tightening as he leaned his back against the cold stone wall. The alley felt oppressive now—not like a hiding place, but a reminder. He was still dependent. Still waiting. Still powerless to do anything except trust the one person who kept leaving him in the dark.
And the worst part was—
There was nothing he could do but wait.
Caelum stepped back onto the main street, his posture instantly shifting.
Gone was the relaxed gait of a mortal traveller. His steps were measured now, deliberate. His senses expanded outward as he let his angelic sight bleed just beneath the surface—careful not to reveal himself, but enough to see.
It didn’t take long.
The two demons had slowed their pace, pretending disinterest, drifting apart slightly as if browsing stalls. But their auras were unmistakable now that Caelum was looking for them—coiled, restrained, watching.
Found you.
Caelum altered his path, cutting through a narrow corner between buildings. He timed it perfectly—turning just as they rounded the bend ahead.
When he emerged, he was suddenly right in front of them.
The effect was immediate.
Both demons stiffened, surprise flashing across their faces before their expressions smoothed back into practiced neutrality. They had not expected to be confronted—certainly not so directly.
Caelum smiled.
Not the serene smile of an angel.
But the easy, unassuming expression of a mortal man.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he said casually. “I couldn’t help but notice the two of you following us. If you needed something, you could’ve just approached. No need to make it look so suspicious.”
The demons exchanged a glance—brief, sharp.
One of them scoffed lightly. “I think you’re mistaken. If we were following you,” he said evenly, “why would you suddenly appear in front of us?”
Caelum chuckled softly, lifting a hand in apology. “Ah, my mistake then. Guess I’ve been watching my back too much.”
He took a step past them, turning his back as if the conversation had ended.
“Alright then,” he added lightly. “I’ll be on my way.”
For half a second, the street was silent.
Then—
“Where’s your other companion?”
The question sliced cleanly through the air.
Caelum stopped.
He turned his head just enough to glance back over his shoulder, expression curious rather than alarmed.
“How did you know I was with someone?” he asked.
One of the demons froze—just for a fraction of a second too long.
The other reacted instantly. “We saw you at the inn,” he said smoothly. “That’s all.”
Caelum turned fully now, facing them again. His eyes narrowed—not aggressively, but perceptibly.
“Oh,” he said. “I see.”
A beat.
“Well, we already went on our way after eating,” he continued calmly. “But it sounds like you’re particularly interested in him?”
The demons shook their heads almost in unison.
“No. Not at all,” one replied. “Just asking.”
The other nodded. “We have somewhere to be. Goodbye.”
They turned and walked away, their steps unhurried, blending seamlessly back into the flow of the street.
Caelum dipped his head in polite acknowledgment.
But his eyes never left them.
He watched carefully as they disappeared into the crowd—tracking their movement, memorizing their auras, committing their presence to memory.
Only when they were truly gone did his expression change.
The smile faded.
And the weight of what had just been confirmed settled heavily in his chest.
They continued down the street without looking back at first, their footsteps steady, unremarkable, blending into the rhythm of the town.
But both of them felt it.
The gaze.
One of the demons glanced over his shoulder—briefly, carefully—and saw Caelum still standing where they had left him. The angel had not moved an inch. He had not followed. He had not turned away.
He was watching.
Not aggressively.
Not threateningly.
Just… watching.
The kind of attention that made even demons uneasy.
Only after several long moments—after distance and movement finally broke the line of sight—did Caelum’s presence vanish from their senses.
That was when they slowed.
Neither spoke at first.
Then, quietly, one of them said, “He didn’t leave until we did.”
The other let out a low breath. “Which means he was measuring us.”
“Or warning us,” the first replied.
They walked on, their voices kept low, their words carefully chosen.
“An angel,” the second said. “Disguised as a mortal.”
“And a high one,” the first added. “You felt it too.”
“Yes,” the second admitted. “That restraint isn’t taught. It’s earned.”
They allowed a group of townsfolk to pass, then continued.
“With someone,” the first demon went on. “And that someone isn’t one of ours.”
“No infernal resonance,” the second agreed. “And no celestial structure either.”
The word came again, unspoken but understood.
Absence.
“That man doesn’t belong to any order,” the first said. “And yet the angel is guarding him.”
“Which makes him dangerous,” the second replied. “Or valuable.”
They slowed again, approaching a side street where shadows pooled thickly against stone.
“Do we report this now?” the first asked.
The second shook his head immediately. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because we don’t yet know what he is,” came the calm reply. “And reporting half-truths only gets us erased.”
He paused, then added, “Besides… that angel noticed us far too easily. If we escalate now, Heaven will move first.”
The first demon nodded slowly. “Then we observe.”
“We tail them,” the second said. “Carefully. Quietly. What happened today doesn’t happen again.”
“And we make sure,” the first added, “that whoever he is… he’s worth the attention.”
“And the reward,” the second finished.
They reached the mouth of a narrow alley, dark and forgettable. Before turning into it, one of them glanced back toward the street where Caelum had stood.
He was no longer visible.
But the feeling of being watched lingered.
“We’ll let you go for now,” the demon murmured under his breath, voice thin with promise. “But we will find out who you are.”
They stepped into the alley.
The shadows swallowed them whole, erasing their forms as if they had never existed—leaving behind only an ordinary street, unaware that the balance between Heaven and Hell had just shifted another fraction out of place.
Kreyn sat on the cold stone ground of the alley, his back pressed against the wall, knees drawn slightly inward. The narrow space smelled of damp stone and old wood, a sharp contrast to the lively street just beyond its mouth. The noise of the town reached him only in fragments—laughter muffled, footsteps passing, life continuing as if nothing dangerous had just brushed past it.
He stared at the wall in front of him, unfocused.
His chest still felt tight, his pulse too loud in his ears. Demons. The word echoed again and again in his head, dragging with it a thousand questions that had nowhere to go.
Footsteps approached—controlled, urgent.
Caelum returned to the alley at a brisk pace. Without looking down, without slowing, he reached out and seized Kreyn’s wrist.
“Let’s go,” he said sharply.
But Kreyn didn’t move.
Instead, he pulled his hand back.
The action was small—barely more than a reflex—but it stopped Caelum cold.
He froze mid-step.
Slowly, Caelum turned his head and looked down.
Kreyn was still leaning against the wall, eyes fixed straight ahead, jaw tight. His fingers curled against the stone as if anchoring himself there, refusing to be dragged away again like cargo.
Caelum frowned. “What’s wrong?” he asked, impatience creeping into his voice. “We don’t have much time. We need to move. Now.”
Kreyn didn’t answer immediately.
Then, slowly, deliberately, he lifted his face and finally looked at Caelum.
There was no fear in his eyes now.
Only hurt.
And something sharper beneath it.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Kreyn asked quietly.
The question landed heavier than any accusation.
Caelum stiffened.
“Am I really not deserving of answers?” Kreyn continued, his voice steady but strained. “Am I still just a prisoner to you—someone who has no right to ask what’s happening around him?”
Caelum didn’t respond.
He couldn’t.
Kreyn swallowed and went on, words spilling now that he had started. “I know you saved me. I know it almost cost you your life. And I am grateful—truly. Whatever your reason was, I don’t deny what you did for me.”
He gestured weakly to the street beyond the alley. “I’ve been kept in the dark since the moment I woke up. And I’ve accepted that. I told myself you had your reasons. I told myself it was fine.”
His voice wavered for just a moment before steadying again.
“But why do I need to be kept in the dark?” he asked. “There are demons following us. Not mortals. Not just your kind. Demons.”
He looked away briefly, then back at Caelum. “Is that because of you? Or because of me?”
Silence stretched between them.
“Shouldn’t I have the right to know why I’m being hunted?” Kreyn asked softly.
Caelum looked at him, really looked at him now.
And for the first time since they met, he had no immediate answer.
“I don’t have time to explain,” Caelum said at last, his voice tight. “We are not safe here. Staying any longer puts you—and me—at risk. We need to move. Now.”
Kreyn didn’t budge.
