The dawn sky was a bruised gray, heavy with clouds that swallowed the light before it could touch the earth. From the narrow fissures of the hollow, Kael’s army began to rise.Chains slithered first, their iron links scraping over the black stone, writhing like a nest of serpents. Behind them came the wraithlike spirits that Kael had pulled from the hollow’s depths—half-formed figures wrapped in mist and shadows, their hollow eyes burning red in the dim light. The boy gripped his spear tighter as they passed him, trying not to shudder at the soft, mournful hiss that followed them like whispers of the grave.Kael walked at the head of the procession, his long coat dark against the faint red glow that bled from the sigil behind him. He didn’t look back to see if the others followed. He could hear them—the soldier’s steady boots, Lira’s soft footfalls that made no sound when she didn’t want them to, Rian’s uneven breathing as he tried to keep up with the grim march.The tunnel leading to

The great doors of the Regent’s keep loomed ahead, black wood bound in iron and etched with symbols that shimmered faintly in the pale light of dawn. Unlike the outer gate, these doors did not tremble beneath the weight of Kael’s presence. Instead, they seemed to hum with a low, warning thrum, as if the very wood resisted being breached.The courtyard behind Kael’s army was littered with the dead and dying. Blood streaked the stones in thin, dark rivulets that trickled into the cracks between the cobbles. A cold breeze swept across the open space, carrying the scent of iron and rain.The boy wiped a streak of blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. His grip on the spear was tight, his knuckles white beneath the dried grime. He cast a glance upward at the doors and swallowed, unease gnawing at the edge of his adrenaline.Lira rested casually on the hilt of her dagger, the corner of her mouth tilted in a grin that was more feral than amused. “Pretty doors,” she said lightly. “Be

The moment the shadows rushed at them, the torches lining the throne hall guttered and went out, leaving only slivers of pale daylight spilling through the tall windows. The temperature plummeted, a cold that gnawed at the bone and made the boy’s breath puff in white mist.The Regent’s laughter rang hollow in the dark. It wasn’t loud, but it slid across the stone walls like a blade’s edge. The shadows twisted around his body, stretching into clawed arms that lashed toward Kael.Kael planted his foot on the first step of the dais. His chains, alive with a faint silver glow, flared outward like wings of iron. They clashed against the shadows mid-air with a ringing clang that sounded too heavy for mere metal. Sparks leapt from the collision, brief flickers of light in the suffocating dark.“Stay behind me!” the soldier barked at the boy as she slashed her blade through a curling tendril that reached for them. Her steel passed through it with a hiss, slicing the shadow in half. The pieces

The night after the Regent’s death was eerily quiet. The moon hung pale and thin over the city like a blade, casting silver light across the battered rooftops. Smoke still drifted from scattered fires where skirmishes had flared in the streets earlier that day.In the keep’s courtyard, the bells had finally stopped tolling. What replaced them was worse—the silence of a city holding its breath, waiting to see what would come next.Kael stood alone near the shattered gates of the keep, his chains trailing across the bloodstained stones. The weight of victory pressed heavily on his shoulders, though his face betrayed nothing. His gaze swept the city below, watching the flicker of lanterns as frightened citizens gathered indoors, too unsure to celebrate or mourn.The boy approached quietly, carrying a torch that flickered in the faint wind. His steps slowed as he came closer, hesitating as though stepping too near Kael might wake something dangerous that still lingered around him.“They’r

The Hollow’s night had grown restless. What little peace the city had earned after the Regent’s fall was fading, replaced by an unease that hummed through every street like the distant roll of thunder. The air was heavy with the smell of wet stone, rain-soaked earth, and the faint metallic tang of iron—a scent Kael had learned to recognize as a warning of blood soon to be spilled.In the keep’s war room, a single candle burned low, dripping wax down its copper stand. Its flame swayed each time the wind crept in through the cracked shutters. The flickering light threw tall, unsteady shadows across the wooden table strewn with maps, ink-stained letters, and crude sketches of nearby roads and villages.Kael stood at the head of the table, silent and still, his hands braced on the edge. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the half-dark as if they reflected some hidden fire.Lira lounged near the table’s corner, balancing on one heel with her arms crossed. She looked restless, her dagger gl