Three months ago, the czar marched with his royal guard, but not to war. They climbed The Spine - a mountain so long it stretched from one end of the land to the other, from sea to sea, holding it together.

They left behind all armor, weapons, and metal, for lightning was known to be lured by them. It set them aflame, just like a tree. This close to the sky, there was no hiding from it, and in this part of The Spine, lightning raged constantly. There was no thunder or rain, just violent flashes of white whips in the clouds.

Two men stood behind with the pile of swords and armor the royal guard left. The czar continued towards the next peak, where the dark clouds were at their thickest. He felt vulnerable without mail over his chest, without a sword on his hip. But his guard was his sword, and he knew well that they would be his armor if they needed to be.

Lightning danced above them, but people said there was nothing to be afraid of if you were unarmed. They’d only hurt you if you were looking to shed blood. The czar hoped they were right, for lightning remained ever vigilant, guarding its master.

A building appeared from the shroud. Thick stones joined together to make a chapel with a cross rising above it. It, too, made of stone, mocking the lightning. Invisible to it, the church was a monument of its master’s demise. The czar knew this place for what it truly was, not a temple of the dead god but the prison of another.

The royal guard surrounded the thick wooden doors at the chapel’s entrance. They lifted the plank holding the gate shut. Usually placed on the other side of the gate, it had a different purpose here.

The door sent a cloud of dust in the air as it slid across the stone. Daylight crept inside, and it revealed the reason why Roman did the climb. A lone chained man sat on the floor with his back against the outer wall. He shuffled when the light reached him through the dust, his chains rattling. The czar walked in slowly, one foot in front of the other, keeping his weight on the back one.

The chains seemed intact. They didn’t just hold him down. They crawled around him like snakes, like pythons wrapped around his limbs.

“You must have been a child when they put them on me, yet they haven’t moved. Step bravely czar. If I could, I would have burned your men alive already. The traitor made these shackles strong.” - the chained man spoke.

“How are you, Perun?” - the czar spoke.