ShadowBound: The Need For Power-Chapter 505: Her Last Request

The moment Galen’s words echoed through the great hall, the air seemed to tighten—each breath drawn by those present came out shallow and uneasy. The flames burning in the torches along the walls flickered wildly, their light casting restless shadows across the pillars.

King Tharion, his jaw clenched tight, slowly rose from his throne. His gaze—sharp, burning with controlled fury—fixed upon his son. "Galen," his voice rang out through the chamber, firm and heavy with restrained power, "what is the meaning of this madness? You dare storm into the royal courtroom and threaten those who uphold the law of the crown?"

Galen’s eyes, gleaming like molten fire, met his father’s gaze with equal intensity. His hand remained resting casually on his sword hilt as he took a step forward, the air around him humming faintly with heat. "I could ask the same thing, Father," he said, his voice low but dangerous, carrying across the silence like a blade dragging across stone. "What’s the meaning of this insanity you call justice? Have you truly fallen so far that you’d condemn your own daughter to death and call it duty?"

A gasp rolled through the courtroom like a wave. The councilmen shifted in their seats, whispering nervously as Tharion’s eyes narrowed, the fury beneath his calm expression darkening further.

Galen continued, unshaken. "You speak of treason and purity as though they are sacred, yet you’ve forgotten humanity entirely. She’s your blood, Father. Your daughter. And yet you sit there upon your throne, deciding her life as though she were some stranger off the streets." His tone deepened with every word, anger rising from his chest like fire roaring to life. "How cruel must you be—to not even hesitate, to not even consider that the one you’re condemning is the same woman who once fought side by side with you for Solara?"

Then, his gaze slid sideways, locking coldly onto King Valemir. The flames in his eyes flared brighter, his voice cutting through the air with venomous edge. "And you..." Galen spat, pointing directly at the Crescent King. "A useless, wasted, breathing fossil of a man! You dare sit here and act as if you hold moral authority when it’s you—and your ancestors’ cursed decrees—that poisoned this alliance in the first place!"

Valemir’s calm façade cracked, his expression hardening as murmurs broke out again through both councils.

Galen pressed on, his words like fire hurled into oil. "If it weren’t for your damn ’purification’ doctrines, for your self-righteous laws of blood and myst, none of this madness would even exist! You and your kind twisted Solara’s beliefs into something ugly. You made us fear our own!"

That was when a sudden movement cut through the tension.

In the blink of an eye, Caelum Virellan, the Grand Marshal of the Crescent Kingdom, appeared beside Galen—his sword drawn so swiftly it sang through the air. The blade’s edge stopped just inches from Galen’s neck, its cold gleam reflecting the fiery glow of his eyes.

"Enough," Caelum said, his tone sharp and steady, though the power beneath it was unmistakable. "You would do well to remember your place, Knight Galen. Insulting royalty before two thrones—are you so eager to die? Apologize now before you regret every word that just escaped your mouth."

But Galen didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a faint, defiant smirk. "If it’s blood you want, Marshal," he said quietly, his voice dripping with venomous calm, "I don’t mind spilling some of my own—or yours."

And at that very moment, a deep hum filled the air. The temperature in the hall rose sharply as flames shimmered faintly behind Galen. Then, with a sudden flash, a crimson-forged sword—hovering without being held—manifested behind Caelum and pressed its burning tip against the marshal’s neck.

Gasps filled the courtroom. Knights reached for their weapons, but before any could move—

"Galen!"

Serah’s voice rang out, clear and sharp, echoing through the hall like a bell.

All eyes turned toward her. She stood with her chains still clinking lightly, her expression calm yet weary. Her eyes softened as they met her brother’s furious ones. "There is no need for this," she said, her tone steady but laced with sorrow. "I’ve already accepted my fate. There’s nothing left to fight for, not here."

"Serah..." Galen’s voice wavered slightly. His grip on his sword tightened. "You don’t have to accept this. You don’t have to stand here and—"

But before he could finish, Serah smiled—a soft, warm, heartbreaking smile that silenced him completely. It was the kind of smile she used to give him when they were children, when she promised him that everything would be alright no matter how dark things got.

And in that instant, Galen knew. She had truly meant what she said earlier.

The flames around him dimmed, the hovering sword faded into nothingness, and the fire in his eyes dulled to an empty glow. He slowly lowered his hand from his weapon, the fury inside him replaced by hollow despair.

Serah turned back toward her father, bowing her head slightly. "Your Majesty," she said softly, her voice carrying through the silence. "If I may... I would like to speak with my brother alone. Just for a moment."

Tharion’s expression was unreadable. His hands tightened on the arms of his throne as he studied the scene before him—the brokenness in Galen’s stance, the quiet resolve in Serah’s eyes. After a long, heavy silence, he finally exhaled and gave a faint nod.

"Very well," he said, his tone low and restrained. "You have my leave."

***

The room they were led into was quiet and dimly lit, a single lamp hanging from the ceiling casting a faint golden glow over the stone walls. The guards had left them alone, closing the door behind them, sealing the world out—just the two siblings now.

Serah sat down first, her chains clinking softly as she did. The faint bruises on her wrists glimmered under the lamp’s light, but she didn’t seem to care. Her eyes watched Galen as he stood for a moment before sitting down across from her. He looked older than she remembered, more worn by battle. His presence was powerful, but the pain in his eyes betrayed him.

A faint smile curved Serah’s lips. "You’ve grown," she said softly, the words carrying a warmth that made Galen’s chest tighten. "In strength, and in soul. You’re not the boy who followed me around anymore." Her gaze softened, taking in his face. "Your time in the Nether Realm... it helped you, didn’t it?"

Galen tried to smile, but it faltered before it could take shape. His hands rested on his knees, fingers curling slightly. "Yeah," he muttered. "It did. But what’s the point of all that strength if I can’t even protect my own family?" His voice wavered, and for a moment, the fire in him dimmed. "Serah... why? Why are you doing this? You still have so much life left. You could fight this. You should fight this."

Serah watched him in silence for a long moment, her expression softening into something that looked almost... peaceful. "Because, Galen," she said finally, her tone gentle and full of that same calm resolve that had always defined her, "I’ve already lived the best part of my life." She looked down slightly, her voice lowering to almost a whisper. "In the past two years, I’ve known what it means to truly live—to be free of politics, of crowns, of titles. I’ve known love, Galen. Real, unconditional love." Her eyes shimmered faintly with emotion. "I’ve seen places so beautiful they felt like dreams, met people who made me laugh again... and most of all, I’ve known what it feels like to hold a child of my own."

She paused, her lips trembling slightly as her gaze drifted toward the floor. "To hold him so close and feel his heartbeat against mine... to know that even if the world burned, I’d be at peace just because he exists."

Galen froze, his breath catching. His eyes widened in disbelief. "You... had a child?" he asked quietly, his voice breaking slightly at the end.

Serah nodded, her eyes glistening as she smiled faintly. "Yes," she whispered. "His name is Liam. He’s beautiful, Galen. So full of light, so full of love. He’s got my eyes, but he smiles like Marcus."

For a long, heavy moment, Galen just stared at her. Then the shock turned to pain, and anger followed. "Then why?" he demanded, his voice rising as the words cracked. "Why are you doing this? Why come back? You have a son, Serah! A son! He needs you! Why would you leave him? Why would you come here just to die?"

Serah took in a deep, steady breath before answering. "Because," she said softly, "if I didn’t come back, Liam’s life would have been in danger. My absence alone would have condemned him. The Crescent would have hunted for me—and once they discovered where I was, they would’ve found him too." She lifted her gaze to meet her brother’s, her expression steady. "I couldn’t let that happen. I would rather they take me than him."

Her voice cracked faintly on the last words, and Galen’s anger fell silent. His hands clenched tightly into fists, his head bowing as his throat tightened.

Serah continued, her voice quiet but unwavering. "I wanted to stay, gods know I did. But with the laws as they are, with the hatred that still lingers against anything tied to dark myst... this was the only road left for me."

Galen tried to argue, tried to find words, but none came. Deep down, he knew she was right. He knew the way things were. And that truth hurt more than any wound he had ever suffered.

After a long silence, he finally managed to whisper, "Who’s going to take care of him now?"

"Marcus," Serah said gently. "He’s doing well as a father. And with Billy’s help, Liam will be loved and cared for. But..." she hesitated, her voice trembling faintly, "once Marcus finds out what’s happened to me, I don’t know if he’ll have the strength to go on. He’s strong, but his heart—he loves too deeply."

Galen looked down, his voice hardening again as he said, "Then Billy will look after the boy. He’s got a good heart. He won’t let Liam suffer."

Serah gave a soft, wistful laugh, shaking her head slowly. "Billy’s growing old, Galen. The sickness in him grows worse every season. He might not live long enough to see Liam grown. And I doubt he’d ever want to leave this world knowing his grandson’s alone."

She leaned forward slightly, her tone suddenly more serious. "That’s why I’m entrusting Liam to you."

Galen blinked, taken aback. "Me?" he said in disbelief. "Serah, I’m not fit for that. I’m a knight, a soldier—I barely know how to live for myself, let alone raise someone else’s child."

Serah smiled, the warmth in it enough to make the air feel heavier. "You’re wrong, Galen. You’re the only one who can. You have my trust, my faith. You’ll protect him the way I can’t. You’ll love him the way I wish I could’ve stayed to."

He tried to protest again. "Mother—Mother would be better for that. You know she would. She—"

But Serah cut him off with a soft shake of her head. "No. You and I both know that would be too dangerous. The Crescent would suspect her first. Liam’s safety depends on staying hidden from both our kingdom and theirs. And you..." her eyes softened again, "you’re the only one who can move freely, who knows when to fight and when to disappear."

The room fell quiet again. Galen lowered his head, staring at the floor, his throat tight with words he couldn’t say. Then finally, he nodded slowly. "Alright," he whispered. "I promise, Serah. I’ll protect Liam. No matter what. I’ll keep him safe."

Serah smiled through the shimmer in her eyes. "Thank you," she said softly. Then, removing the small rune bracelet from her wrist, she placed it gently in his hand. "Marcus’s contact rune is in there. When the time comes—when you think it’s right—reach out to him. Tell him the truth."

Galen stared down at the bracelet, his fingers trembling as he held it.

After a moment, he lifted his head again. "Aren’t you going to talk to Mother?" he asked quietly.

Serah’s eyes grew distant. "I would’ve loved to," she said softly, "but she’s not here. She’s away, and I don’t think I’ll have time before..." she trailed off, then gave a small, bittersweet smile. "So, you’re the only one I’ll be speaking to."

She reached out and pulled Galen into a tight embrace. For a long moment, neither of them said a word. Galen’s arms wrapped around her as if trying to hold her in place, as if refusing to let her go.

When Serah finally pulled back, her voice broke slightly as she whispered, "Hug Mother for me. And Tharionson, too. Tell them both that I love them. And tell Mother that I’m sorry."

Galen’s eyes burned, but he only nodded, unable to trust his voice.

Serah smiled again—one last time. Then, with a slow exhale, she rose to her feet. Her chains clinked softly as she turned toward the door.

And without another word, she walked away.