The Nameless Heir
Chapter 79: Desire

Chapter 79: Desire

Kael sat on his throne, his cheek resting on his fist. His eyes locked on the wave of shadowy dome, waiting patiently, silently, for them to break free.

The shadows curled at his feet like hounds, loyal and restless. They shifted with tension, like even they were tired of waiting.

The air around him grew heavier, slowly matching the weight behind his silence. And as his patience wore thin, the Underworld seemed to hold its breath with him.

Then, finally—

The second cocoon cracked.

The man stumbled forward, staring down at his feet, each step was slow and uneven like he nearly escaped. His hands shook as he forced himself upright to meet his king eyes.

Kael’s eyes locked on him.

"What is it that you desire?"

The man lifted his head slowly, his voice hoarse but steady.

"I just wanted to belong."

Chains burst from the floor. They wrapped around his ankles, his wrists—slow, like the Underworld was listening.

He didn’t fight.

He just... exhaled. As if this was what he had always been waiting for.

The next one emerged seconds later. She had her arms curled around herself like she was holding in something broken. Her eyes flickered, like she had been through hell.

Kael asked her the same question.

"What is it that you desire?"

"To feel again... even if it hurts."

The chains found her just the same—crawling up her back, over her shoulders. She dropped to her knees. Not out of fear.

But relief.

Another came forward, teeth gritted. He struggled to speak, trying to find the right words to say, but nothing came out.

So Kael asked, but his tone was soft, filled with acceptance.

"What is it that you desire?"

"To matter. To be more than just an undead soldier."

The chains slithered around him like serpents—curling up his spine, wrapping his chest. He didn’t look away. Not once. He let them bind him, eyes locked on Kael the whole time.

Then came a girl. Quiet. Small. Her steps soft, but steady.

She stood before him.

Kael tilted his head. He didn’t speak.

She answered anyway.

"To be seen," she whispered. "Truly."

The chains that found her were gentle—almost reverent. They coiled up her arms like silk ribbons, then tightened.

And still, she stood tall.

Then came a boy who fell to his knees the moment he stepped free. His hands shook violently. His breathing was ragged.

Kael watched him struggle.

"What is it that you desire?"

"Freedom..." he rasped. "From them. From everything."

The shadows rushed him.

Chains wrapped his torso, dragging him upward—not violently, but without mercy. His head tilted back, and for the first time... he smiled.

One by one, they emerged.

Some collapsed in tears. Others came out screaming. Some stood in silence, shoulders squared like they had nothing left to lose.

And each time, Kael asked the same question.

"What is it that you desire?"

"Love."

"Justice."

"To be remembered."

"To be whole."

And one by one... they were bound.

Suspended beside him, not like prisoners—but like truths. Living, breathing fragments of desire.

Their bodies dangled in silence, a circle of chained spirits—hovering, waiting.

And Kael sat there.

His gaze sharpened, and the shadows around his eyes pulled tighter.

He looked out across the palace courtyard, at the cocoons still hanging in silence—some of them twitching, like they were holding their breath.

"You were not chosen to be my generals..."

His voice was low, quiet—but it struck like a blade drawn in a tomb.

"...but do not worry."

He sat on his throne calmly. The shadows at his feet rippled like living tentacles. Then they shot outward.

First one.

Then two.

Then four.

Each streak of darkness lashed across the field, multiplying like wildfire, until every last cocoon was connected to it like a spiderweb.

"You will be given opportunities to prove yourselves."

Without a second thought, he lifted his right hand and, in one motion, dragged the blade across his palm. He watched the skin split open.

But no pain.

He raised the hand to his face. Shadows shifted as he watched the black blood drip down his arm.

Something about it felt unnatural.

A quiet laugh escaped him. Dry. Bitter.

Part of him... almost wished it had turned red again. Just once, so he could feel normal again.

Just then, he felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder.

He turned. Her presence steadied him.

A faint smile tugged at the edge of his lips.

"Watch this," he said softly.

He reached forward.

Blood traced a thin line down his finger... and fell onto the ground.

Thick. Dark. Alive.

"Drink the blood of Hades..."

The blood flowed through his shadows like it was coursing through veins. They carried it outward, threading through the darkness.

One by one, the cocoons began to pulse...

Slow.

Steady.

Like hearts starting to beat again—fed by something ancient.

"Drink what runs the River Styx."

He fixed his gaze on all the chained souls.

His shadow surged forward—sharp, precise—piercing straight through their chests.

From within, it dragged out their Desire, the same way he had with the Sins.

He pulled them out. Just like before.

Nothing happened at first. Then the chains began to break—slowly, one after another—until all of them stood free.

They didn’t change. Their bodies remained human. There was no monstrous transformation, no overwhelming surge of power like the Sins. They kept their somewhat human form.

The reasoning is simple: they were born from human desire, just like the Sins—except they were not the same. They are much weaker, not because of their lack of will, but because their nature was different. The Sins were made from the darkest forms of desire—distorted, corrupted, and stripped of all their empathy. That’s why their forms are monstrous, to the point they no longer resemble anything human.

These souls came from simple desires—the kind that still held meaning. They could be used for something noble or fall into corruption, depending on the choices they made.

That freedom was what kept them grounded.

That choice was what preserved their humanity.

They were not forced into ruin.

They are allowed to choose.

Revenge (Male)

He didn’t speak much. He watched instead. His gaze was sharp, cold, never blinking. He didn’t lash out. He waited. Everything about him felt like a wound held shut just long enough to strike. If he trusted you, it was because he planned to.

To Belong (Male)

He stood close to others, but not too close. He smiled when people spoke to him, but it never reached his eyes. He wants to be invited in, but will never ask. He was quiet. Careful. Like someone who was told many times they didn’t fit.

To Feel Again (Female)

She was gentle in how she moved, as if afraid to break things—or herself. Her voice shook when she talked, but she still talked. She listened more than she spoke, and when she did speak, it came out honest and raw. Like every word has meaning.

To Matter (Male)

He talked fast, like someone afraid of being cut off. He got angry easily, but always for a reason. He was the first to jump in, to defend others, even if no one asked. He didn’t want attention. He just wanted to count for something.

To Be Seen (Female)

She held eye contact a little too long. She never looked down. She wanted people to notice her, but hated being looked at like a problem. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. Her silence was loud enough.

Freedom (Male)

He didn’t like standing still. His hands twitched when there was nothing to do. He smiled like he didn’t care, but he did. He always kept his distance from everyone, even those he liked. He didn’t hate people. He just hated being told what to do.

To Love – Male Half (Male)

He spoke softly, never in a rush. When others argued, he listened. When they cried, he stayed. He didn’t need to say much. His presence was enough. He cared deeply and quietly, but it showed in everything he did.

To Love – Female Half (Female)

She was fire. Protective. Sharp. She didn’t waste time on kindness unless it meant something. She looked calm when he was near, but without him, the edge returned. She wasn’t soft—but she was loyal to the core.

To Be Remembered (Female)

She noticed everything. The smallest shifts in tone, the little things people forgot. She held onto names like they were sacred. She didn’t chase the spotlight. She just didn’t want to disappear.

To Be Whole (Two Males)

The first was quiet, heavy with silence. He took hits for others without blinking. Never asked for help. He looked like someone who expected to be left behind, but stayed anyway.

The second talked to fill the silence. He laughed super loud. He gave without thinking. Needed without asking. He looked like someone who tried to fix others so he wouldn’t have to fix himself.

Together, they didn’t balance each other perfectly. But they made each other whole.

They all knelt behind Kael, their chains resting quietly at their sides. Behind them, the Sins stood tall—watchful, silent.

Then, one by one, the rest began to stir.

The shadowy cocoons twitched. Cracks spread.

And more began to break free.

Kael watched from the throne, unmoving.

A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth—wide, steady.