The road to the Obsidian Hollows was not marked on any map.
Even the orb hesitated, its glow flickering uncertainly as it pointed Violet and Iris into the dark hills. The land here was scorched black, as if fire had carved scars into the earth long ago.
Violet stepped carefully along the broken path.
The wind didn't blow.
The trees didn't whisper.
Even the birds refused to sing.
---
"This place doesn't feel dead," Iris muttered.
"It feels like it's watching."
Violet nodded. "The shard's close. But this time… something's different."
---
They reached the mouth of a valley just before nightfall.
The rocks there were like jagged glass—tall and sharp, black as ink. A thick gray mist clung to the ground. Violet reached out and touched one of the stones.
It hummed beneath her fingers.
Low. Hollow.
Like a voice trying to speak with no sound.
---
The orb hovered higher than usual, its voice quiet.
"Warning: mana distortion detected. Shard signal unstable. Area classified as: Severed Faith Zone."
Iris frowned. "Severed faith?"
Violet looked ahead.
"Maybe this place is where people stopped believing."
---
As they moved deeper, the mist thickened.
And with it came the voices.
Not real ones.
But whispers in Violet's head.
"You'll never find the next shard."
"You're chasing ghosts."
"They died because of you."
Violet flinched.
Iris grabbed her hand. "Don't listen. It's not real."
But the words felt real.
Because deep inside… some part of her believed them.
---
The valley widened into a flat basin.
In its center was a black altar.
Cracked.
Abandoned.
Floating above it, flickering like a dying flame—was the fourth shard.
But between Violet and the shard stood a figure.
Not a memory.
Not a mask.
A man.
Tall. Robed in silver and red. Masked, with a single glowing eye.
He spoke without moving his mouth.
"You made it, Violet."
Violet stiffened. "Who are you?"
He didn't answer the question.
Instead, he turned toward the altar.
"This shard isn't just a memory. It's a belief. A promise that was shattered."
He looked back at her.
"You broke it."
Violet stepped forward. "I've never been here."
"But your other self has," the man said.
He raised his hand, and the altar flashed.
A vision appeared—dozens of people, kneeling, waiting. A golden-haired girl at the front. Their leader.
"You told them the world would change," he said. "You said the shards could heal the dungeons. You gave them hope."
The vision turned dark.
The altar cracked.
The people screamed.
The girl vanished.
"You left. And the hollow took them."
---
Violet's voice was soft. "I didn't remember."
"Exactly," the man said. "You forgot your failure. You buried it. And now you come, wearing that mask… pretending to be a savior."
Iris stepped forward angrily. "She's not pretending!"
The man tilted his head.
"Then prove it."
---
The ground split.
From the altar rose a creature of stone and shadow. Its body was made from shattered beliefs—statues of those who once trusted Violet's past self. Their faces twisted in pain.
The shard hovered above its heart.
"You want it?" the man said.
"Then face the cost of being followed."
---
The monster roared.
Violet barely got a shield up in time before a wave of dark energy slammed toward them.
Iris sent a bolt of light at the beast—it exploded into smoke, but reformed almost instantly.
"It feeds on doubt!" Iris shouted. "It's not like the others!"
Violet drew in a breath.
Then reached for her mask.
---
The moment it touched her face, the mist froze.
And inside the silence, she heard a voice.
Not the monster's.
Her own.
"If you run from your followers' pain, you can never lead again."
She lowered her wand.
And stepped toward the monster.
Iris screamed. "Violet, what are you doing?!"
Violet looked at the statues—the faces carved into the creature's body.
And she whispered, "I'm sorry."
The statues stopped moving.
The beast paused.
She kept going.
"I'm sorry I failed you. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough."
A tear slid down her cheek.
"I remember now."
---
The statues began to glow.
One by one, their cracked eyes blinked.
The creature screamed—not in rage, but in release.
Its body shattered into pieces of stone.
And the shard drifted down like a falling star.
---
Violet caught it.
The mask warmed.
A new symbol etched itself beside the others: a circle with four rays—like a sun behind clouds.
The orb chimed.
"Fourth shard acquired. Emotional weight lifted. Route to next shard: Ember Hollow Range."
Iris rushed to her.
"Are you alright?"
Violet smiled, breathing hard.
"Yeah. I just… remembered how heavy hope can be."
---
The masked man watched them go, silent.
Then turned away into the mist.
He spoke to the shadows, his voice low.
"She's stronger than we thought."
The voice replied, cold and sharp.
"But the next trial won't ask her to remember."
It hissed softly.
"It will ask her to choose."
---
The wind returned as they left the hollows.
Faint at first—just a whisper stirring Violet's hair—but it felt like the valley had finally exhaled after holding its breath for too long.
She walked in silence, her fingers still wrapped tightly around the fourth shard.
It felt warm.
Not like the others.
Like something inside it was still alive.
Iris didn't speak until the mountains came into view.
"You said it feeds on doubt," she said softly.
Violet nodded. "And I had plenty of it."
"You didn't run."
"I wanted to."
"But you didn't."
---
They stopped beneath an old tree to rest.
The orb hovered near Violet's shoulder, its glow steady now.
"Coordinates locked. Next shard detected in: Ember Hollow Range. Estimated travel time: three days."
Violet leaned back against the trunk, eyes half-closed.
Ember Hollow.
Even the name felt heavy.
Like fire and decision.
---
"Do you think the masked man will be there?" Iris asked.
Violet's eyes opened. "Yes."
"Do you think he's… part of you? Like the reflections?"
Violet looked up at the sky, thinking.
"No. He's not a memory."
"Then who is he?"
Violet's voice was quiet.
"The one who remembers everything. Even the parts I still don't."
---
The third night of travel brought them to the edge of the Ember Hollow Range.
Fire-colored grass blanketed the hills. Smoke curled lazily from deep cracks in the earth. Red lightning flickered between clouds.
And in the center of it all, atop a blackened peak—stood a tower made of living flame.
That was where the fifth shard waited.
---
The path twisted through sharp rocks and burning wind.
Violet wrapped a mana barrier around them both, but even magic couldn't stop the weight pressing down on their shoulders.
The air here wasn't just hot—it was angry.
The ground trembled with every step.
Iris touched her dagger. "I don't like this place."
Violet nodded. "It doesn't want us here."
---
Halfway up the mountain, they found a village.
Or what was left of one.
Charred beams.
Burnt soil.
No people.
Just scorched footprints that stopped suddenly—like the walkers had vanished into flame.
A single signpost still stood at the village edge.
It read:
"Two paths, one price."
---
The orb beeped once.
"Alert: magical construct detected. Divergent trial initiated."
"What kind of trial?" Iris asked.
Violet read the glowing message forming in the air above the sign:
"To claim the flame, you must choose. One path saves a life. The other saves a future. You cannot have both."
Iris frowned. "What does that mean?"
The ground split.
Two stone roads unfolded before them, stretching in opposite directions.
To the left, they saw a child trapped inside a burning chamber—calling for help.
To the right, they saw a seed of light, planted in blackened soil—glowing softly, barely alive.
The orb flickered. "Trial of Sacrifice. Choose one."
---
Violet stared at both paths.
The child's cries echoed in her ears.
But the seed pulsed with potential.
---
"I can't choose," she whispered.
"You have to," the orb said. "Staying still is also a choice. And that path leads to failure."
Iris looked torn. "If you go for the child, I'll go for the seed."
But the sign glowed again:
"Only the Chosen may pass the test. No one else may interfere."
---
Violet's hands trembled.
Every part of her screamed to run left.
To save the crying child.
But her heart tugged right.
Toward the seed.
The shard was not in the child's chamber.
She could feel it.
---
"I'm sorry," Violet whispered.
And ran right.
---
The cries behind her rose in pitch.
Became screams.
Then stopped.
As if a flame had stolen the voice from the world.
Iris stared after her, tears in her eyes.
She said nothing.
Just followed.
---
The seed pulsed.
Violet knelt and touched it.
It glowed—then bloomed into a flame flower.
Inside its center, curled like a sleeping spark, was the fifth shard.
But Violet didn't smile.
Her heart felt heavier than ever.
She took the shard gently.
The mask burned hot for a moment—then cooled.
A fifth symbol appeared: a flame inside a circle, with two paths branching out.
The orb spoke.
"Fifth shard acquired. Choice recorded. New route unlocked: The Whispering Grave."
Violet stood slowly.
"I left someone behind."
---
Iris finally spoke.
"You did what you had to."
Violet looked back.
The other path had vanished.
Only smoke remained.
"No," she said.
"I did what the shard demanded."
Iris touched her shoulder.
"And maybe that's the burden of power."
---
High on a cliff above them, the masked man watched in silence.
"Good," he whispered.
"She's learning."
Behind him, a girl with silver eyes stepped forward.
"She left the child," she said softly.
He nodded. "Now she understands what it means to win."
The girl tilted her head. "And the price of doing it alone."
He smiled.
"She won't be alone for long."