"The whispers are your only allies... expect og those who hides secrets*
Entry One: The Room with No Windows
The note still sat on my desk, its ink faintly bleeding into the wood grain as if it wanted to vanish into the grain and take its secrets with it.
He's not your enemy.
I'd read it so many times that the words no longer looked like words—just dark, looping scratches on a page. But my mind refused to let them go. Who was "he"? Kael? Malrik? Jaren? Or… someone worse?
The knock came just after midnight.
Three raps. Slow. Deliberate.
I froze, the sound too heavy for a casual visit.
Another knock. Same rhythm.
I stepped toward the door, every muscle tight. "Who is it?"
"It's me." Kael's voice, low but urgent.
When I opened the door, he slipped inside fast and shut it behind him. His eyes flicked to the window, then to the ceiling—searching for something I couldn't see.
"What happened?" I asked, keeping my voice to a whisper.
"They found tracks," he said. His voice was calm, but I could hear the edge beneath it. "Outside the western perimeter. Fresh ones."
"Bone Creatures?"
"Not just them." He glanced at the note on my desk. "Something faster."
The shadows under my skin stirred at that, curling like wary animals.
Entry Two: Whispers Beneath Stone
We didn't speak again until we were in the tunnels beneath the academy—Kael leading with a small ball of flame in his palm, its light flickering across the damp walls. My shadows licked along the floor, stretching ahead of us.
"Why here?" I asked, glancing at the moss-damp stone.
"No one listens down here," he said.
The deeper we went, the heavier the air became—thick, damp, and tinged with the metallic bite of old magic. The walls were etched with runes so faded they were almost part of the stone itself, but when I looked too long, I swore they shifted.
Kael slowed. "You've been different since Malrik cornered us."
I swallowed. "I've had… a lot on my mind."
"Jaren?" His tone was sharp—not jealous, but suspicious.
I didn't answer. That was enough.
Entry Three: The Hollow Speaks
The air changed before I heard the voice.
Stillness. The kind that makes your pulse sound loud in your ears.
Then the shadows along the walls thickened, deepening like wet ink. My own magic stirred without permission, whispering in a voice that didn't belong to me.
Come closer.
I stopped dead. "Kael—"
"I hear it too." His flame burned hotter. "It's coming from ahead."
The voice coiled tighter around my thoughts.
You can't save them. You couldn't save her.
Neris.
My knees weakened, the shadows at my fingertips whipping outward, striking the walls in jagged bursts.
Kael caught me, his hands firm on my shoulders. "Elara. Stay with me."
"I—" My throat locked. "It knows."
Entry Four: The Watcher
We emerged into a vast chamber. The ceiling arched high above, lost in shadow, and at its center stood a cracked stone pedestal carved with the same runes we'd passed in the tunnels.
Leaning casually against it was Malrik.
"Well," he said, voice smooth as oil, "isn't this cozy?"
Kael's fire flared dangerously. "What are you doing here?"
Malrik's eyes flicked from Kael to me, his smirk deepening.
"You hear it too, don't you?" he said. "The Hollow's voice."
The shadows around me curled tighter. "Why does it know my name?"
Malrik stepped closer. "Because you're part of it more than you realize."
Entry Five: A Dangerous Truth
Kael moved between us, blocking Malrik from getting any closer.
"Leave," Kael said, his voice low and edged with fire.
"Or what?" Malrik tilted his head. "You'll burn me? You can't destroy what it's already claimed."
The runes on the pedestal pulsed faintly, bathing the chamber in a pale, ghostly light. The voice returned—louder, everywhere at once.
Choose.
Malrik extended a hand toward me. "Come with me, and I'll show you what you really are."
Kael's grip tightened around mine.
The pull was physical, like invisible hooks dragging me toward the pedestal. My magic surged, torn between light and dark, fire and shadow.
Above us, the distant clang of the academy's warning bells split the air.
Entry Six: The Breaking Point
Kael's voice cut through the chaos. "Don't listen to him, Elara."
But Malrik's words slid under my skin like poison. "You've felt it—the hunger, the power that doesn't come from your training. The Hollow isn't your enemy. It's your birthright."
The runes brightened, the pull growing sharper. My shadows writhed wildly, stretching toward the pedestal even as Kael's fire pushed them back.
"Let go of me," I whispered.
Kael's grip faltered, shock flashing in his eyes.
The bells above rang again, closer this time. Footsteps pounded in the tunnels behind us.
Malrik smirked. "Time's up."
Entry Seven: The Cliff's Edge
Before I could react, the pedestal cracked, a dark mist seeping from its seams. It crawled across the floor, curling around my ankles like living smoke.
Kael yanked me back, his fire flaring hot enough to burn the mist away, but for a split second, I felt it—cold and endless—press against my mind.
You are mine.
The footsteps burst into the chamber—Jaren at the front, sword drawn, eyes scanning the scene.
"Step away from her," Jaren barked at Kael.
"Not now," Kael snapped, his voice rough with urgency.
Malrik, already backing into the shadows, gave me one last look. "You'll come to me eventually."
And then he was gone.
Kael pulled me toward the tunnel, but my gaze lingered on the cracked pedestal. The mist was gone, but the runes still glowed faintly, as if they were waiting.
For me.