Night draped the capital in silence, but within the palace walls the tension was louder than any trumpet. The council chambers still rang with Varrow's words, and King Aldric remained behind closed doors, torn between his son's pleas and his adviser's warnings.
Kael paced the narrow chamber of Isolde's quarters, jaw tight, hand never far from the hilt of his sword. "If Father listens to Varrow, he'll order you confined before sunrise."
Isolde sat at the window, moonlight washing her pale face. Her hands trembled faintly, the Hollow's mark glowing through her skin. "I feel it, Kael. The chains… they're breaking faster. Varrow isn't just whispering in council—he's feeding the Shadow King. If I'm caged, he wins."
Kael stopped, his fists clenched. "Then we don't let it happen. We leave. Tonight."
Her eyes widened. "Leave? The capital?"
"Yes," Kael said firmly. "There are places Varrow's eyes cannot reach. The old catacombs beneath the city. Forgotten shrines. Hidden paths. If the prophecy speaks of flame and chains, then the answers won't be found in council halls—they'll be found in places older than Aldric's throne."
For a long moment, Isolde said nothing. The thought of running from the king's judgment tore at her, but the truth weighed heavier: if she stayed, Varrow would bind her before she could even try to stop the curse. Finally, she rose, determination flickering in her eyes. "Then we go. But not empty-handed. That tome we found—the prophecy. It must come with us."
Kael nodded, already strapping his sword tighter. "I'll see it done."
---
Elsewhere in the palace, Varrow stood before King Aldric, his voice calm, persuasive, inexorable.
"My king, you see the danger. The girl's magic grows unstable. The lords murmur of fire consuming their fields, their homes. If you allow her freedom, unrest will follow. Your reign cannot afford such doubt."
Aldric rubbed his temple, the weight of the crown pressing deeper. "She saved lives at the border. Even my son vouches for her."
Varrow bowed his head slightly, his voice low, almost tender. "And yet it is your son's loyalty that clouds him. I ask not for cruelty, only for caution. Place her under watch, confine her magic, until we know whether she is salvation… or ruin."
Aldric's silence stretched, his eyes clouded with exhaustion. At last, he spoke. "At dawn, I will decide."
Varrow's lips curved faintly as he bowed. "Wise as ever, my king."
---
Midnight bells tolled as Kael and Isolde slipped through the lesser halls of the palace, cloaked in shadow. Every step was a risk, every corner a trap. Guards patrolled with sharper eyes than usual—Varrow's doing, no doubt.
They reached a narrow stair spiraling downward, the air growing damp and cold. At the base lay an iron grate, half-buried in dust. Kael knelt, straining against the rust until it groaned open.
Beyond stretched a tunnel—dark, endless, carved long before the palace above had risen.
Isolde shivered. "Where does it lead?"
Kael glanced at her, the faintest fire in his eyes. "To secrets Varrow cannot control. To truths even the Hollow cannot hide. If we're to stand against what's coming, this is where it begins."
She took his hand, her pulse quickening with fear and resolve. Together, they stepped into the dark, leaving behind the safety of walls, the judgment of kings, and the poisonous whispers of the court.
Above them, in the highest tower, Varrow watched the moon through his window, his eyes gleaming as if he already knew. "Run, little flame," he murmured. "Every step you take brings you closer… to me."
And somewhere deep beneath the earth, the Hollow's chains groaned louder, as though welcoming her descent.