The ridge offered little shelter. By dawn, the wind had sharpened into a cutting chill, and the fog had begun to climb again. Veira led them into the foothills of the northern range, where forgotten paths wound between boulders and shattered statues of stone gods.
They traveled in silence, save for the clink of Aric's gear and Rhyssa's muttered observations.
Kain walked near Veira. He watched her.
She moved like a ghost. Confident, careful. Dangerous.
"You said you're one of the Forgotten," he said at last. "What does that mean?"
Veira didn't look at him. "We were once Keepers. Mages, warriors, wardens of the flame that held the Hollow King in his pit. But when the world forgot us, we were scattered. Hunted. Killed."
"You survived."
"I did." Her voice held no pride. "But only barely."
They stopped by an old standing stone covered in moss and twisted vines. Veira placed her palm on it. It pulsed once—faint and blue.
The vines shriveled instantly.
"This way."
They descended through a narrow pass, until the trail vanished into rock.
There, hidden beneath a sheet of root-covered stone, Veira uncovered a door.
With a murmur of ancient words and a wave of her hand, it opened with a low hiss.
Beyond: darkness.
Veira led the way.
Inside, the walls of the tunnel were carved with symbols Kain didn't recognize. They pulsed faintly as he passed, reacting to the mark on his arm.
Veira noticed.
"It's waking," she said. "The Hollow King's gift. Or curse. Hard to say."
"Feels like both."
At the end of the tunnel, they stepped into a vast underground hall.
A dead temple.
The air was thick with dust, but at the center of the chamber burned a strange blue flame suspended in midair—no wood, no fuel. Just fire.
"The Flame of Memory," Veira said. "The last light of the old war."
Aric approached it, awe in his eyes. "It's real…"
"Barely," Veira replied. "If it dies, so do we all."
Kain stared at the flame. Something deep inside him stirred. Like a long-forgotten thread being pulled.
"What is this place?" Rhyssa asked, walking slowly around the flame.
Veira traced her fingers along a cracked mural on the wall. "This was once a bastion. One of many. The Forgotten met here in secret to keep the Hollow King sealed. But the seal is breaking. The roots are spreading again. You saw it in Vellhollow."
"We did," Kain said. "And I saw something else."
He held up his marked arm.
"It's changing. Leading me."
Veira's eyes narrowed. "Then we don't have much time."
She reached into her cloak and pulled out a map—hand-drawn, old, marked with strange symbols and circles. She pointed to a spot near the northern edge.
"Here. This was once a gate. Beneath it lies the first chain—the First Binding Stone."
Kain frowned. "To what?"
"To the Hollow King himself. He was never truly slain, only chained beneath the world. Each binding stone holds part of that prison. But if even one is broken…"
Rhyssa finished the thought. "He wakes."
Veira nodded. "And the one you encountered—the Hollowborn—was a Seeker. Their purpose is to find and destroy the stones."
Kain stepped closer to the map. "Then we stop them. We find the stone first."
"You'll need more than a sword," Veira said. "You'll need to survive the Waking Path."
Kain turned to her. "What's that?"
Veira walked toward a sealed door at the back of the temple.
She placed her hand against it.
A circle of fire bloomed outward from her palm, lighting runes embedded in the stone. The door began to shift, sliding open.
Behind it lay a spiraling descent—carved stairs heading deeper into the dark.
"The Waking Path is a trial," she said. "One every Forgotten has walked. You want to fight the Hollow King? Prove you can resist him. Down there, your fears will rise. Your past will speak. And you'll have to choose who you really are."
Aric raised a brow. "We're doing this now?"
Veira didn't smile. "You think the Hollow waits?"
She turned and walked through the doorway.
Kain looked at the others.
"We go together," he said.
Rhyssa cracked her neck. "Wouldn't dream of letting you have all the nightmares."
Aric sighed. "Fantastic. Magic, madness, and moral introspection. My favorite."
They followed Veira down into the dark.
The door sealed behind them with a hiss.
The air grew heavy.
The stairs spiraled so tightly they could barely walk side by side.
And then—without warning—everything changed.
Rhyssa vanished from Kain's side.
So did Aric.
He spun around—but they were gone.
He was alone.
Except… not entirely.
A figure stood ahead of him, barely visible in the low red light.
Kain's breath caught.
"Father?"
The man didn't respond.
Kain stepped forward.
But the moment he did, the figure turned—and he saw that the man wore a mirror for a face. No features. Just reflection.
Kain's own eyes stared back at him.
"You killed me," the figure said, in his father's voice. "You left us behind."
Kain shook his head. "No. That's not true."
"You became what we feared."
The voice echoed.
Kain stumbled back. "This isn't real. This is the Hollow. A trick."
But the figure kept coming.
"You can't kill what's inside you."
The mark on Kain's arm blazed, and suddenly the room shifted again.
He stood in a field.
Fire burned all around.
And a shadow rose from the center of the blaze—tall, crowned with antlers, cloaked in roots.
The Hollow King.
Not the real one. Just a memory.
But Kain could feel its pull.
It raised a hand.
"Serve me," it said. "And the pain ends."
Kain clenched his fists. "No."
He reached for his sword.
But it wasn't there.
Only fire.
The Hollow King laughed. "You will kneel, little key. You all will."
Kain's scream echoed across the Waking Path.