The mist parted, but Emberlynn barely saw the figures emerging from the fog. The air around her was thick with dread, as though the very atmosphere was pressing in on her, trying to suffocate her thoughts. Malphas stood beside her, silent and still, like a shadow that had forgotten how to speak.
But Emberlynn couldn't stop herself from glancing at him, her pulse quickening. The connection between them, fragile as it seemed, still thrummed through the air. It felt like the beginning of something monumental—something neither of them could deny. But right now, that didn't matter. The creatures in the mist were far more pressing.
The Hollow Court had returned.
At first, they looked like humans—distant echoes of familiar faces from Emberlynn's past. But something was wrong. Their eyes were hollow, empty, like vast voids where a soul should have been. Their smiles were too wide, too perfect, like masks that barely covered the death lurking beneath. It made Emberlynn's stomach churn.
She clenched her fists, the sharp pain in her shoulder a constant reminder of the mark that bound her to this fate.
Malphas stepped forward, his figure casting a long shadow in the pale light. His presence was commanding—every inch of him radiated power, even more so now that the Hollow Court had closed in on them. But his expression was unreadable, his dark eyes fixed on the approaching figures with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine.
"They're not like the others," he said quietly, more to himself than to her. "They've been here longer than we thought."
"Longer?" Emberlynn asked, but the question felt hollow even as she asked it. The words didn't seem to matter anymore. Not when the world was shifting under her feet, and the truth was pulling her deeper into the darkness.
Malphas nodded, his lips tightening into a grim line. "They've been waiting. Watching."
Emberlynn's heart hammered in her chest as the lead figure stepped forward. She didn't need to look closely to see the woman's face—the sharp angles of her jaw, the long, flowing hair, the eyes that seemed to pierce through her very soul.
It was her mother.
Emberlynn's breath caught in her throat. She took an involuntary step back, her mind scrambling to make sense of the impossible. The last time she had seen her mother was—what? Years ago, before the world had fallen apart. Before everything had changed. Before she had known the real truth.
"Mother?" she whispered, the word falling from her lips like a prayer.
The creature—whatever it was—smiled, and the sight sent a shiver of revulsion through Emberlynn. "Come back to us, Emberlynn," it cooed, its voice sweet, honeyed with an unnatural warmth. "You don't have to fight anymore. You don't have to remember what you were."
Emberlynn's pulse quickened as it took another step forward. Its voice was so familiar, so comforting, that it was hard not to want to listen. She had heard that tone many times in her childhood, when her mother had soothed her fears, held her close in the dark, telling her that everything would be okay.
But this wasn't her mother. This wasn't the woman who had cradled her in her arms. This was something else.
"No," Emberlynn whispered, shaking her head. "No. You're not her. You're not real."
The creature's smile faltered for a moment, its form flickering like a flame on the verge of being snuffed out. But then it straightened, its hollow eyes gleaming with something darker.
"Everything you are, everything you've forgotten, it's all inside you, child," the creature said. "Come back to us. We've waited for so long."
Emberlynn's mind raced, memories and visions flooding back to her, but they were fragmented, like shards of glass too dangerous to touch. Her heart pounded in her chest. What were they trying to say? What had she forgotten? What was she running from?
"Don't listen to it," Malphas growled, his voice harsh and filled with fury.
But the damage had already been done. The creature had planted the seed of doubt in Emberlynn's mind. Her fingers curled into fists as she tried to push back the thoughts that threatened to overtake her. She was stronger than this. She had to be.
"Malphas," she said, her voice trembling slightly as she reached for his arm. "What if they're telling the truth? What if I—"
"No." His voice was sharper now, interrupting her before she could finish the thought. "You can't believe them. Not when they're trying to manipulate you."
Emberlynn met his gaze, her heart heavy with questions she didn't have answers for. She could feel the weight of the past pressing down on her, the part of her that longed to return to the comfort of the lies she had told herself. But she also knew that she couldn't. Not anymore.
"I can't remember," she whispered. "I can't remember what I was before."
Malphas' gaze softened ever so slightly, but his expression remained determined. "You're not meant to remember everything, Emberlynn. Not yet."
Her eyes searched his face, looking for some sign, some glimmer of the man—the demon—who had been so close to her. The man who had saved her, the one who had put himself in danger time and again. But there was something else in his eyes, something unreadable.
"Why?" she asked. "Why won't you just tell me? Why do you keep holding back?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, his gaze flickered toward the other figures of the Hollow Court that stood in the mist, watching them with a detached interest. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white.
"They're not here to save you," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "They're here to destroy you."
The words hung in the air like a curse. Emberlynn's breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to spin.
The creatures of the Hollow Court took another step forward, and Malphas immediately moved into a defensive stance, his sword raised. Emberlynn could feel the weight of her mark once more, and her hand instinctively reached for it, the heat intensifying as she did.
And then, everything shifted.
In an instant, the air crackled with energy. The mist around them seemed to swirl violently, like a storm that had been unleashed. The creatures screamed—a sound like the tearing of fabric, a wailing cry that pierced through the very fabric of reality.
Malphas's eyes darkened. "Emberlynn, you need to trust me," he said, his voice tight with urgency. "We can't stay here."
Before she could respond, he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the center of the sanctum. The runes on the stones flared with light, their pulse quickening.
But the creatures were closing in, and the world was on the verge of unraveling.