The moonstone stair twisted through the sky like a frozen river of bone and starlight, rising higher than any tower Kaelen had seen—even in visions. The Vale fell away below, its strange forest dimming into dreamstuff, until only the thin air and echoing silence remained.
Kaelen climbed first. Behind him, Aelric grunted with each step, muttering about gods and knees and the indignity of vertical trials. Seris walked silently, her expression unreadable. The stars above them shimmered like watchful eyes.
At the summit stood a gate unlike any other: two colossal doors carved from obsidian and veined with molten silver, hovering in the air without walls to anchor them. Each door bore the sigil of a long-dead kingdom—Kaelen recognized neither, but the Ember pulsed harder as they drew close.
Then the doors opened.
No sound. No grinding. Just… opened.
A breath of warm air rolled out—tinged with myrrh, old ash, and the scent of lightning after rain. Beyond the threshold stretched a hall that should not have existed: endless in both directions, lit by flame that floated in suspended droplets like fireflies.
They stepped through.
The doors closed behind them.
And the world changed.
This was not the Vale anymore. This was something older.
Kaelen could feel it in the marrow of his bones. The Ember flared now with steady intensity, as though recognizing the stone beneath their feet.
The Hall of Names.
That was the only word that came to him, unbidden and certain. A place where every soul who had ever borne the Ember's fire left behind their name, carved in star-metal and bound in song.
He saw them: names etched into the very air, glowing faintly—some flickering like dying candles, others pulsing with fire brighter than suns.
Aelric ran a hand through the wisps of names that hovered beside him. "These… these are real. I can feel them."
"They're memories," Seris whispered. "Each one a torch passed forward. Kaelen, yours is not yet written."
Kaelen nodded, jaw clenched. "Then we keep walking."
They walked for what felt like hours. Time bent strangely in the Hall. Sometimes Kaelen blinked and found himself alone. Other times he turned and saw Seris walking a dozen paces ahead, bathed in starlight, her shadow fractured behind her.
Aelric seemed to grow quieter with each step, until finally he stopped.
"Do you hear that?" he said.
Kaelen strained his ears.
A sound—soft and low—barely more than a breath. But it coiled through the hall like smoke.
A voice.
Calling his name.
Kaelen… Kaelen…
He turned slowly. One of the arches to their left—a doorway not there a moment ago—now yawned open. Inside, only shadow.
"We shouldn't," Seris warned. "This is the Hollow King's trickery."
But Kaelen stepped toward it.
The Ember at his chest burned not in warning—but in recognition.
"I have to see."
Without waiting, he passed through the arch.
Darkness folded around him like silk.
Then: a flicker of flame, and Kaelen stood in a place that made no sense. A blacksmith's forge. His father's forge. But warped—too large, too clean, and eerily still.
His father stood at the anvil, hammering nothing. The clanging echoed hollowly.
"Da?"
The man looked up.
And it was not his father.
The face was too smooth, the eyes too dark. His voice—when he spoke—was many voices layered atop each other, a choir of memories.
You are late, Kaelen.
Kaelen drew Flameborn.
"Show yourself. You're not him."
I am many things. A shade. A truth. A gift. A price.
The figure stepped back into the shadows and reemerged as someone else.
A girl. The one from the visions. She bled from the eyes.
You will fail them.
Another step. Aelric, this time, grinning as blood poured from his mouth.
You will kill your friends.
Then Seris, whispering:
You are the end. The flame that burns the world.
Kaelen raised the sword. "I don't believe you."
You don't believe yourself.
The entire space cracked like glass. Darkness surged inward.
And then—he saw him.
The Hollow King.
Not clearly, not yet. But a silhouette of impossible size and shape, seated upon a throne made of screaming stone. His crown was a ring of shattered suns. His voice seeped through Kaelen's skull like water into stone.
"You have awoken my blood."
Kaelen gasped, falling to one knee.
"You do not know what you carry. You do not know what you are."
"I'm not afraid of you."
"You should be."
The Hollow King rose.
And the space exploded into flame.
Kaelen woke on the floor of the Hall, gasping.
Seris knelt beside him, hand on his shoulder. "You were gone for an hour."
"I saw him," Kaelen whispered.
Aelric turned, tense. "The Hollow King?"
Kaelen nodded. "He's watching. He's waiting."
"Then we're close," Seris said.
A new sound echoed down the hall.
Footsteps.
Not just one.
Dozens.
Aelric drew steel. "Company."
From the far end of the Hall, a group emerged: cloaked figures, pale and silent, each bearing weapons crafted of bone and iron. Their eyes glowed silver. No words. No war cry.
Just movement—unrelenting, focused.
The Hollow King's emissaries.
Seris threw her arms wide. Runes flared at her feet. Aelric stood back to back with Kaelen.
Kaelen raised Flameborn. "Then we make our stand."
The Hall erupted in fire and blade.
Seris summoned a wall of cascading starlight to deflect the first volley of knives. Aelric danced between attackers, his blade flashing like a serpent's tongue. Kaelen dove into the thick of them, Flameborn blazing, every strike trailing fire.
For every enemy they cut down, another rose. They fought like those who felt no pain—only purpose.
Kaelen cried out, swinging in wide arcs, the Ember channeling through his veins like liquid flame.
Then a blow struck him hard across the ribs—he stumbled, dropped to a knee.
A blade rose toward his throat.
But Seris was there, her dagger piercing the attacker's skull with frightening speed. She pulled Kaelen to his feet. "No dying. Not yet."
Together, they pushed forward.
Toward the far end of the Hall.
Toward the next seal.
When the last of the Hollow King's agents fell, Kaelen stood panting beneath the archway of the final chamber.
It pulsed with violet fire.
Seris pressed a hand to the frame. "This is it. The second Vessel."
"What's inside?" Aelric asked.
Seris hesitated. "Memory. Power. And a choice."
Kaelen stepped forward.
The gate opened.
And they stepped into the heart of the forgotten world.