The road stretched ahead in muted greys, the After-World sky forever trapped between dusk and dawn.
Sora walked in silence beside Kaelen and Ryn, the echo of their last battle still raw in his mind—the clash of steel, the burning of the chain, the way each decision seemed heavier than the last.
Kaelen finally broke the quiet.
"We'll need supplies before we face another Lord."
Ryn nodded, adjusting the sickle on her back.
"And information. We can't keep stumbling into their traps."
Sora glanced up at her. "Where do we find that?"
Ryn's lips curled into a thin smile.
"The Hollow Market. But you'd better learn to keep your mouth shut there."
Kaelen smirked. "And your hands close to your coin pouch."
Somewhere ahead, faint light pulsed in the mist, steady as a heartbeat. It pulled at Sora in a way he couldn't explain.
They followed the road toward it—unaware of the eyes watching from the shadows.
---
The alleyway was narrow, lined with warped bricks slick from the ever-present fog. At its end, the road opened into a sprawling bazaar, alive with murmurs and flickering lanterns that seemed to drink light instead of giving it.
Stalls of twisted metal, cursed trinkets, and jars containing faintly glowing spirits lined the cobblestones.
Figures in tattered robes bartered in hushed tones—some faces etched with soot, others with eyes glowing faintly in the dimness.
Ryn's hand never left her sickle's hilt.
"This place bleeds secrets. It's where the lost barter for power—and where the Council's reach is thinnest."
Kaelen scanned the shadows, her sword arm loose but ready.
"Keep your guard up. Not all here want to help."
Sora tightened his grip on the broken chain in his palm.
"Then… who will help me?"
The crowd shifted. A sudden hush swept over the market as a figure stepped forward. Cloaked in deep midnight blue, their hood shadowed their face.
When they spoke, their voice was calm but edged with iron.
"I hear the spark burns bright."
Sora froze.
The stranger pulled back the hood just enough to reveal a pair of silver eyes, sharp and unblinking.
"My name is Eira," she said, voice low. "I know what the Council wants… and what the Lords are planning. But I also know the cracks in their dominion."
Ryn scoffed. "You expect us to trust a shadow in the Hollow Market?"
Eira smiled faintly.
"Trust isn't a currency here. Power is. And power comes in many forms."
Sora hesitated. "What kind of power?"
Her gaze flicked toward the shattered chain in his palm.
"The kind that can unmake chains themselves."
Before he could ask more, a sharp shout cut through the market:
"Halt! You're under the Council's writ!"
Figures in black cloaks swept into the square, lanterns burning with cold blue fire. The crowd scattered, stalls collapsing as merchants vanished into the fog.
Kaelen drew her sword with a hiss of steel. "Looks like the Council found us."
Eira's silver eyes gleamed.
"Then it's time to show you what cracks look like."
The air thickened, the distant hum of voices replaced by the metallic ring of boots striking cobblestones in unison.
Sora's heart picked up its pace—not from fear alone, but from an instinct he didn't fully understand.
The Council enforcers stepped into the square. Their cloaks were stitched with silver thread in spirals that seemed to shift when looked at too long. Each carried a hooked spear glowing with faint blue runes. The lanterns in their hands hissed, the flames inside crackling with a strange, unnatural cold.
Kaelen's stance lowered, blade half-raised.
"They've got Frost Lanterns," she muttered. "Those things snuff out spirit fire."
Ryn's jaw tightened.
"They're not here for a casual arrest."
Eira remained perfectly still, her cloak settling around her like water. Her silver eyes were fixed on the enforcer in front—a tall, gaunt figure whose face was hidden behind a mask shaped like a bird's skull.
"By decree of the Council," the masked leader intoned, voice distorted as if it came from deep water, "you are charged with consorting with a marked soul."
Sora felt all eyes on him.
"Marked soul…?"
Eira's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"They mean you."
The leader raised his spear. "Hand him over, and your deaths will be… merciful."
The crowd of merchants and thieves had already melted into the shadows. The market now belonged to the Council—and to whoever was foolish enough to resist them.
Kaelen's grip tightened on her sword.
"Looks like we're all fools today."
One of the enforcers stepped forward, his Frost Lantern swinging in an arc. The cold radiating from it stung Sora's skin. The broken chain in his hand pulsed faintly, as if reacting to the presence of the Council.
Eira's voice dropped to a whisper only Sora could hear.
"Do you want to live?"
He swallowed. "Yes."
"Then stay close to me."
She moved in a blur, her cloak billowing like smoke, and the first enforcer's lantern shattered before he could even cry out. The cold flame spilled onto the cobblestones, writhing like a dying serpent.
The leader let out a sound that was half-snarl, half-breathless laugh.
"So be it."
The Hollow Market erupted into chaos.
The clash rang out like a shattering bell. Kaelen's blade intercepted a spear meant for Sora, sparks leaping in the dim air. Ryn's dagger flew past Sora's ear, burying itself in an enforcer's throat before the man could speak a spell.
Eira didn't fight like a soldier—she fought like the night itself, vanishing and reappearing in shadows, striking with precision so fast it made Sora's eyes ache to follow.
But there were too many of them.
Every time one went down, another stepped from the smoke, Frost Lantern swaying like a noose. The cold air bit harder, making Sora's breath mist.
The broken chain in his grip vibrated again—harder this time—until the metal felt hot in his palm.
The leader's masked gaze locked on him.
"You don't even know what you are… do you, little soul?"
Something in Sora stirred—an image, gone as quickly as it came. A burning city under a violet sky. Screams swallowed by laughter that wasn't his own.
The moment froze, then shattered as the leader thrust his spear straight at him.
Eira's hand caught the shaft an inch from Sora's chest.
Her voice was calm, but her silver eyes burned like molten glass.
"You'll have to take him over my corpse."
The leader tilted his head. "That… can be arranged."
They surged forward all at once, shadows and cold fire closing in from every side—
And the Hollow Market vanished in a blinding flash of blue light.