The Owner Of My Chains

For five hundred years, he remained in the darkness. Raviel, the demon bound to the Vermillion family, had known nothing but chains and silence for centuries. Deep beneath the grand castle, locked away in an underground cave, he sat motionless inside an enormous iron cage, his wrists and ankles shackled by ancient, glowing runes. The magic pulsed with a soft, eerie light, a reminder of his eternal servitude. The air was damp, thick with the scent of old stone and forgotten power. Time had long lost its meaning to him. He had witnessed generations of Vermillions rise and fall—greedy, selfish, and cruel. None had dared to free him, nor had any of them been worthy of his protection. But then, something changed. Far above, within the golden halls of the Vermillion estate, a child was born—the heir of the family. And with his first cry, the chains around Raviel's wrists shuddered. A sharp crack echoed through the cave as one of the magical seals flickered for the first time in centuries. The demon's crimson eyes slowly opened. He exhaled, his breath a whisper against the cold air. "So… the heir has finally arrived." His lips curled into a slow, dark smile. The silence of five hundred years was about to be broken. --- The grand Vermillion estate stretched across acres of land, surrounded by towering walls and an air of untouchable wealth. But within those walls, past the marble halls and golden chandeliers, there was a place untouched by power struggles and whispered schemes—the secret garden. A small boy, no older than four, ran barefoot across the soft grass, his silver-white hair shining under the golden sun. Nao Vermillion, the only true heir of the Vermillion family, giggled as he chased after a butterfly, his tiny hands reaching for the delicate creature. "Careful, young master," a gentle voice called out. Amara, the aging housemaid, watched over him from a distance. She was the only one in the household who truly cared for the child—not as an heir, but as a boy who deserved warmth. Nao turned to her, his icy blue eyes filled with innocence. "Ama! Look!" He pointed excitedly as the butterfly landed on a white rose. Amara smiled, stepping closer. "Butterflies are delicate, my dear. Just like you." Nao pouted, puffing out his small cheeks. "I'm not delicate!" He stomped his tiny foot, making Amara chuckle. "You are," she teased. "But one day, you will grow into a strong young man." Nao didn't understand her words yet. All he knew was that the garden was his favorite place—a hidden world where he was just a boy, not an heir. But deep beneath the castle, locked away in the dark, a pair of crimson eyes had already opened, waiting for the day their paths would cross...