The sky wept fire the night the Hollow King was sealed.Lightning tore jagged scars across the sky, while thunder cracked the heavens open with a deafening roar.Beneath that storm, four kings stood shoulder to shoulder upon the black cliffs of Endspire, their cloaks torn, their blades cracked, their crowns heavy with ash and grief.The land of Eldara; once golden, now ruined, bled beneath their boots. Fields burned. Rivers ran thick with magic twisted beyond sense.The Weave, that sacred breath of the Earth, that all magic is drawn from, had been torn like a scroll fed to flame.And at the center of the storm, bound in chains of celestial iron, knelt the man who had once been their brother. The hollow king, as he was now known.“Is this mercy or cowardice?” spat the Hollow King, his voice a thunder of its own, shaking the chamber walls.“To bind what you cannot destroy?” His eyes gleamed like coals in a dying fire, locked on the circle of runes that held him.“You were one of us,” sa

Kael’s POVThe morning bell at Ardentum Academy peeled through the sky like a sword through silence, sharp and unwelcome, especially to Kael who was not ready to get up from the comfort of his hard bed.Kael climbed out of bed groggily, his limbs heavy with the kind of weariness that didn’t fade with sleep. Every joint ached, and when his bare feet touched the cold stone floor, he hissed under his breath.His bruises from the night before had stiffened, making even simple movements a quiet war. Kael couldn’t shake off the memory of last night. The low growl still echoed in his mind, primal and close, too close.Something had moved in the shadows, something not human. Whatever it was, it had sent Dorian and the others running without a word, their faces pale with fear. And that terrified Kael more than anything.He winced as the bell sound echoed again across the ivy-wrapped towers of the academy; a warning to students who were still in their beds to get up and get moving.He quickly g

Kael’s POVThe air changed immediately, denser, colder, like the space here remembered things no one else did.Kael didn’t have any magic, but he could tell that the magic of the place was old. It felt wrong for him to be there. It crawled along his skin, like vines brushing up his arms, whispering things in a language no tongue could form.They’d tossed him in here like garbage. As if he were some curse to be hidden away. The forbidden ruins of all places! It was clear as day that they wanted him dead, and what better way to get rid of the pain in their asses than by throwing him there to die.His stomach grumbled. Kael sighed. If he didn’t die of some ancient curse lurking in the shadows, he was sure going to die of hunger and starvation.Deciding to at least explore the place before he died. Kael stood up and took a single step forward. When nothing happened, he swallowed hard and kept walking.His footsteps echoed through the halls, dust-covered stone cracked with age, murals long

Lys’s POVThirty minutes later, Lys pushed open the door to the training hall storage room. The faint smell of scorched cloth still lingered in the air from earlier.A few students paused and stared as he crossed the floor and went straight to the instructor’s observation balcony.They had obviously heard of his outburst in the council. At Ardentum academy, walls had ears and it wouldn’t take long for the entire Central Eldara to hear of his defiance.“Lys you are so dead…” he muttered to himself. His father was going to kill him and hang his body on the gates of the city, when he got back.The vault below was open when he got there. Warden Mira stood beside it, marking inventory.“Warden,” Lys called down, “was any weapon reported missing this morning?” he asked.The woman looked up, blinking at him. “Not until after the spar between Dorian and Kael. A ceremonial blade, standard training issue. Why?” she replied.“Where was it found?” he asked, not answering her question. He didn’t h