The palace did not try to stop her.
It should have.
The guards should have stood in her path. The halls should have whispered warnings. The gates, sealed for centuries, should have stayed shut.
But when Aelia stepped onto the eastern staircase that morning — no one stopped her.
No one even looked.
It was as though the Hollow Realm had already decided: Let her go. Let her break.
She didn't take food. Or magic. Or comfort.
Only the obsidian dagger left on her bed… and the silence that had grown between her and Kael like a wall she no longer wished to climb.
---
Outside the palace, the world changed.
It wasn't simply colder — it was older. As though the land itself had aged in stillness, untouched by life for centuries.
The sky above the Hollow Realm was never blue. Always a deep, bruised violet, filled with thin stars and drifting clouds shaped like wings. Black rivers carved their way through the pale grass, and ruins of cities long swallowed by time lay sunken into the hills like bones.
Each step Aelia took away from the palace was a vow:
I am not his.
I am not her.
I will not be caged by a past I never asked for.
---
She walked until the sun dimmed behind gray clouds, and mist curled thick across the land.
There was no map. No path. Only instinct.
Eventually, she reached what looked like a village — or what remained of one. Shattered rooftops. Broken stone. Statues beheaded. Ash drifted through the air, though no fire burned.
It felt like stepping into memory. Someone else's nightmare.
At the center stood an altar.
She didn't know why, but her feet moved toward it.
Carved into its surface was a sentence — not in the language of mortals, but in the tongue the palace sometimes whispered in dreams.
And yet she understood every word:
> To the Queen Who Betrayed the Flame.
May her shadow never rise again.
Aelia's breath caught.
Her hands trembled as she reached for the stone. It was cold — far colder than the air around it. Her fingertips stung just touching it.
It was a warning.
A curse.
And somehow… it was meant for her.
---
"You shouldn't be here," said a voice.
Not loud.
Not rushed.
Just there — as if it had always been.
She spun around.
A man stood in the shadows of the archway behind her.
He was unlike anyone she'd seen in the Hollow Realm — tall, elegant, wearing deep green robes that shimmered with runes. His hair was long, black as ink, and his skin pale gold. His eyes…
Gold. Entirely gold. No whites, no pupils.
A predator's eyes.
"I didn't mean to intrude," Aelia said, reaching for the dagger at her waist.
He lifted a hand lazily. "If I meant you harm, you'd already be ash."
"Who are you?"
He smiled — and it was beautiful in the worst way.
"Someone who remembers what your king has tried to forget."
He began to circle her, slow, graceful.
"Do you know what this place was?" he asked, motioning to the ruins. "A sanctuary for those who opposed Azrik. The ones who followed her."
"Lysara."
He nodded. "Before she was betrayed."
Aelia narrowed her eyes. "She tried to destroy the realm."
He chuckled. "That's what he told you, isn't it? And you believed him. So eager to trust the man with the crown, even after he broke your heart."
Aelia stiffened.
"Poor bride," he whispered. "Do you even know why you were brought here?"
Her voice dropped. "To save the realm."
"No," he said, stepping closer. "You were brought here to keep Kael human."
Aelia's breath caught. He was so close now she could see the shimmer of magic in his skin.
"You are a leash," he said softly. "A reminder. A vessel for guilt. You were never the cure, Aelia. You are the punishment."
---
She backed away.
"I don't believe you."
His gold eyes gleamed. "You will."
And then he raised his hand — just a flick of his wrist.
The ground beneath her cracked open. Shadows burst upward like vines, snatching at her legs, her arms.
She screamed — but it was drowned in wind.
He stepped back, watching her struggle.
"You want to escape the palace? Then run, little flame. Let's see what you are without him."
---
The shadows released her suddenly.
Aelia fell hard, hitting her shoulder against broken stone. She gasped, forcing herself up, running without thinking.
Mist swallowed her path. Branches lashed at her cloak. The ground tilted beneath her feet as the world shifted and warped. Behind her, she could still hear his voice.
> "Run, bride. But remember: You left him. You chose this."
---
She didn't know how long she ran — until her body ached, her lungs burned, and her vision blurred.
But then… something changed.
The mist parted.
And in the clearing ahead stood a tall stone archway, untouched by ruin.
Its surface was smooth white marble. Vines of black roses wrapped around its edges, and in the center, carved deep:
A crown split by lightning.
Kael's symbol.
But there was no door. Only darkness inside.
Aelia stepped forward, breath shaking.
"Where does this go?" she whispered.
The wind answered:
> "Backward. Or deeper."
And she stepped through.
---