The wind howled through the camp as dawn crept in, brushing pale light against the Hollow's walls. But Lyra didn't see it.
She was staring at the empty bedroll of one of their own.
Kaia.
Gone.
No note. No scent trail. No sign of struggle.
Just… gone.
And in her place, a smear of blood and a feather scorched black.
---
"She wouldn't just leave," Torin said, pacing the room. "Not without telling someone. Not without a fight."
Lyra nodded. "This isn't a defection. It's a message."
"She's alive?"
Lyra's jaw tensed. "I don't know. But we're going after her."
Riven stepped forward. "It could be a trap."
"So?" she snapped. "Then we spring it. Together."
---
Torin, Lyra, Riven, and a silent scout named Ash moved out by noon. The trail was cold, but the feather was key.
Lyra remembered reading about them once—Feathers of Dusk, used by shadowbinders. Rare. Ancient. Forbidden.
Only one group ever used them freely.
The Hollowborn.
---
"Wait," Torin said, stopping at the base of the ridge. "The Hollowborn were a myth."
"No," Lyra whispered. "They were buried. Big difference."
Ash crouched and pointed to faint grooves in the earth. "Dragged. No resistance."
"Then she was drugged."
Riven swore under his breath. "We're not just dealing with assassins. We're dealing with mindbreakers."
Torin turned to Lyra. "If they break her—"
"They won't."
---
They followed the trail past the riverbend, into a forest thicker than fog. The trees were wrong here—bark gray like bone, leaves that hissed when touched.
And somewhere deep inside, the ground began to hum.
Ash stopped.
"There's a breach in the Hollow. Underground. Old stone. Just past that ridge."
Torin frowned. "It's not on any map."
"That's because it wasn't meant to be found," Lyra said.
She stepped forward.
And the earth opened beneath her.
---
She fell fast—too fast.
Stone walls spun around her, and then—
Darkness.
Silence.
Then pain.
She groaned, rolling onto her side. Her head throbbed. Her shoulder burned. But nothing was broken.
Light flickered from above. The others' voices shouted from far away.
"I'm okay!" she called.
"Don't move!" Torin yelled. "We're coming down."
"No," she said quickly. "It's safer if I scout first."
There was a pause.
Then a growled reply: "Five minutes."
---
She lit a torch and stepped forward.
The tunnel was ancient—walls carved with symbols she didn't recognize. Some looked like teeth. Others like screaming mouths.
As she moved, whispers filled the air. Faint. Indecipherable.
But they were calling her name.
---
She reached a chamber—circular, damp, and breathing.
Yes. Breathing.
The walls pulsed. The floor was soft. The air thick like lungs exhaling.
In the center, a throne made of black vines.
And on it—
Kaia.
Eyes open.
Unmoving.
---
Lyra ran forward, but as soon as she touched her, Kaia's body convulsed. Her eyes turned black. Her mouth opened—but no sound came out.
Then the shadows behind the throne twisted.
And someone stepped out.
---
He wore no armor. No crown.
But Lyra knew immediately—
This was Alaric.
The hunter king.
He looked ordinary. Beautiful, even. Pale skin. Dark hair. A jawline so sharp it could cut through lies.
But it was his eyes that broke her.
One was gold. The other, bleeding red.
"You've come far," he said smoothly.
She raised her blade. "Let her go."
He laughed. "Why? She came willingly."
"Liar."
"Not at all." He walked around the throne. "She was tired. Angry. Unseen. I simply gave her purpose."
"You brainwashed her."
He tilted his head. "You call it brainwashing. I call it clarity."
---
Torin and the others dropped in behind her. Weapons drawn.
Alaric didn't flinch.
"I see you brought your dog," he said with a grin. "Hello, Torin. Your father screamed less when he died."
Torin growled. "Try me."
But Lyra stopped him with a hand.
"Why take Kaia?" she asked.
"She's the first," Alaric said simply. "The first piece of your puzzle to crack."
He pointed at Lyra.
"You are the center. You are the fracture. And soon, your army will turn on you. One by one."
"You'll never break me."
He smiled wider. "Oh, I won't have to. You'll do it yourself."
---
Suddenly, the vines beneath their feet surged upward.
Kaia screamed.
Not in pain.
In rage.
Her voice twisted into something inhuman.
"She is mine!" she shrieked.
And lunged at Lyra.
---
They fought in flashes—Kaia's speed unnatural, her hands tipped with claws of bone. Lyra dodged, parried, ducked—but she didn't want to kill her.
"Kaia, it's me!" she yelled. "You know me!"
But Kaia's eyes were empty.
Until Torin tackled her from the side.
Pinned her.
And knocked her out cold.
---
Alaric was gone.
The shadows had swallowed him.
But his voice lingered in the air.
"You can't save them all, Lyra. But you'll try. And that is what will destroy you."
---
They carried Kaia back through the tunnel, silent.
Back to the Hollow.
But something had changed.
A crack had been made.
And it wouldn't be the last.
---