The sky was bruised with the promise of dawn, streaks of violet and copper bleeding into the forest canopy as Eira stumbled through the underbrush. Her limbs were heavy with exhaustion, her chest tight from running. Every snapped twig and rustling leaf sent her heart skittering in fear. Somewhere behind them, the Black Hunt prowled, relentless and silent.
Kaela moved ahead, sword drawn, eyes scanning the trees. The warrior didn't speak, but her silence spoke volumes. Every muscle in her body was coiled, ready to strike. Beside her, Torin's gait was uneven, he was limping badly, one arm pressed tight to his ribs. He hadn't complained once.
Lena brought up the rear, lips moving in a quiet chant, a faint line of fire trailing from her fingertips. A protective ward. Temporary, fragile, but it bought them time.
And Thorne… he was at Eira's side. Steady. Wounded. Still bleeding, but alert. His eyes didn't miss a thing, even as pain etched shadows under them.
They broke through the edge of the trees and stumbled into a clearing, breath catching in unison. Nestled in the mist beyond the tree line stood a small hunting post, half-collapsed and moss-covered, but real. And tethered under a crooked awning, three lean horses blinked back at them.
Kaela cursed in disbelief. "That's luck."
Thorne stepped forward, frowning. "No. Someone left them here intentionally."
Lena touched the flank of a dappled mare, who didn't shy away. "A safe drop. Old Mageborn practice. When one of us was being hunted, others left supplies where they could."
Torin looked around warily. "They may still be watching."
"Let them," Kaela muttered. "We've got what we need."
The moment they mounted, something shifted in the air like the forest exhaled. Eira's hands trembled on the reins, but she sat taller. The horse beneath her shifted, sensing her fear, then steadied with a nudge from Thorne.
"You ride well enough?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know," she replied.
"We'll find out."
They rode hard.
The forest blurred around them as they raced through the ancient trail, hooves pounding the earth like thunder. Eira leaned forward, wind tearing through her hair, her cloak snapping behind her like a banner. The fear was still there, but it was something else now too, something sharper. Anger. Purpose.
Behind her, Torin gritted his teeth against the pain, refusing to fall behind. He'd been wounded during the attack, but he said nothing.
Lena rode with her jaw clenched, her fingers wrapped around the hilt of a small blade instead of magic. She didn't need to cast anything to be dangerous. There was something coiled beneath her calm, a quiet fury that simmered every time the Veil was mentioned.
And Kaela… she rode like a storm, eyes locked on the horizon. Fierce. Protective. But even she had a tell. The way her gaze kept flicking to Torin when he winced. The way her knuckles whitened on the reins when Eira's horse faltered.
They cared. Every single one of them. Hardened by loss, shaped by fire, but not empty.
As they neared the ridgeline, Thorne called out. "Hollowmere is just ahead."
Eira's breath caught. The name sounded like safety, but something inside her remained wary. She had learned not to trust the promise of peace.
The village appeared beneath them like a mirage, stone cottages cradled in a hollow, smoke curling from chimneys, lights flickering in windows. It was quiet. Too quiet.
Kaela slowed. "Something's wrong."
They dismounted at the edge of the treeline. Eira's legs shook beneath her, but she held fast. Thorne signaled for silence, and they approached the outermost house.
The door hung open. Inside, the hearth was cold, the beds untouched. A cup sat on the table, half-full, dust gathering around it.
"Empty," Lena whispered.
"Not raided," Torin added. "Just… abandoned."
Kaela crouched by the threshold, fingers brushing the floor. "They left in a hurry. Something scared them."
Eira stepped outside, eyes drawn to the village square. At its center stood a stone monument, a flame carved into obsidian, the symbol of the old Mageborn.
She approached slowly.
There were markings at the base. Fresh ones, gouged into the stone by a blade.
"'The flame will rise. The veil will break.'"
She read the words aloud, her voice barely more than a breath.
Thorne stood beside her, his presence solid. "They left this for you."
"For me?"
"For whoever could carry the fire."
Eira stared at the monument, at the cold hearths and the silence that hung over the village like smoke. She didn't know if the people of Hollowmere had fled or fallen but something in her heart burned brighter.