Chapter 2783: Story 2784: The Heart That Remembered

Ronan screamed as the second hand emerged from his chest.

It was small, pale, and covered in golden veins. Its fingers reached through the red light beneath his ribs, grasping the child’s outstretched hand.

The moment they touched, every candle in the First Kingdom ignited with black fire.

“Separate them!” the Firstborn shouted.

Elias hurled his chains toward Ronan, but the metal dissolved before reaching him. Aren summoned a silver barrier around the chamber, while Darian unleashed violet flames against the growing darkness.

Nothing stopped it.

Ronan saw the world disappear.

He stood in a field beneath a golden sky. Five children played beside a river while Seratha watched from beneath a white tree. A tall man stood behind her, his face gentle and familiar.

The Father.

For the first time, Ronan saw him smiling.

The smallest child ran toward him, carrying a wooden sword.

“Father, look! I’m a warrior!”

The man lifted the boy into his arms.

“My brave little one.”

Ronan recognized the child.

The forgotten brother.

But another figure stood beneath the tree, watching them with golden eyes.

The Firstborn.

He was older than the other children, his silver hair flowing in the wind. His expression was troubled as he watched the Father embrace the boy.

Then the sky darkened.

The Father’s smile vanished.

“Seratha,” he whispered, “the hunger has found our children.”

The memory shattered.

Ronan returned to the chamber, gasping. The forgotten child stood before him, but the golden threads beneath his skin were tightening.

“You saw it,” the boy said.

Ronan nodded. “Father loved you.”

“He loved all of us.”

“Then why did Mother kill him?”

The boy’s face crumpled.

“Because he discovered which child would destroy creation.”

Behind them, Seratha crawled toward the coffin.

“Please,” she begged. “Don’t make me remember.”

The boy turned toward her.

“You made me remember every night.”

His small hand closed around Ronan’s.

Their heartbeats thundered together.

A red wave exploded outward, throwing everyone against the walls. The coffin split apart, revealing an empty space beneath its floor. Inside lay a crown of white bone, wrapped in chains bearing the same five names.

The Firstborn stared at it in horror.

“That crown was destroyed.”

“No,” the forgotten child replied. “It was hidden inside the one person who could never wear it.”

Ronan looked down.

Golden bones began growing around his forehead.

Lyra rushed toward him, shouting his name, but an invisible wall separated them. She struck it with her bow until the wood splintered.

“Ronan! Fight it!”

He tried.

But a voice inside him whispered with terrible tenderness.

You have fought long enough, my son.

The Father appeared behind the forgotten child, his chest an empty black hollow.

Let me come home.

Ronan felt his heart answer.

The golden crown closed around his skull.

Then the Firstborn dropped to his knees.

“It’s happening again,” he whispered.

Seratha raised her tearful face.

“What is?”

The Firstborn looked at Ronan.

“The first time he wore that crown, he murdered his father.”

Ronan’s sword turned toward the golden door by itself.

And the Father smiled.