The gates of the mountain stronghold groaned as shadows pressed against them, twisting like serpents of smoke. Beyond, horns sounded—low, guttural, unnatural. The Keepers lined the walls, their gray cloaks snapping in the wind, weapons drawn, runes etched into steel glowing faintly.
Kael stood at the forefront, the Moonsilver Sword blazing in his hands. Its silver runes pulsed as though alive, resonating with the crown that Isolde clutched to her chest. She stood at his side, her golden fire trembling through her veins, every spark ready to ignite.
Lady Elira's voice cut through the storm. "The wards will not hold. He sends hunters bound in shadow. They will break through."
As if in answer, the gates thundered beneath a massive blow. Cracks spread across the wood and iron, shadows forcing their way through like roots splitting stone.
Kael raised his sword, his voice steady despite the tremor in the air. "Then we hold them here. If Varrow wants the crown, he'll pay for it in blood."
---
The gates shattered. Darkness surged in, carrying cloaked figures with eyes of void and blades humming with corrupted magic. Varrow's hunters.
The courtyard erupted in chaos. Steel clashed against steel, light against shadow. The Keepers fought with ruthless precision, their weapons glowing with runes of old power. But the hunters were relentless, their shadows striking like whips, pulling down walls, scattering men.
Kael met them head-on. The Moonsilver Sword sang, arcs of silver carving through the tide. Each strike tore shadow apart, its light searing the darkness. He fought with fury, every movement honed, every blow driven by the memory of Varrow's smile.
Beside him, Isolde's fire burst forth, golden waves pushing back the hunters, shielding the wounded. But with every surge her mark burned hotter, the Hollow's whispers rising:
Let it all burn. Burn until nothing remains.
She clenched her teeth, forcing control, but the temptation clawed at her.
---
Above the battlefield, a new figure emerged. Cloaked in black, his form taller, his presence heavier. Not Varrow himself, but one of his chosen—a warlord consumed by shadow. His voice rolled like thunder.
"Flame. Blade. Relics of a dead age. You will kneel, or you will fall."
He leapt into the courtyard, his blade striking Kael's with bone-rattling force. The Moonsilver Sword flared, silver light clashing against black fire. Sparks cascaded as the two locked in battle, every strike shaking the stones.
Kael gritted his teeth, sweat stinging his eyes. "Tell Varrow this—Aeloria will never kneel."
The warlord snarled, shadows lashing out. Kael was driven back, his sword arm trembling. The Moonsilver Sword's glow flickered, as though struggling against the sheer weight of darkness.
Isolde's heart pounded. She saw Kael falter, saw the hunters pressing closer, saw the Keepers begin to break.
Her fire roared in answer. She stepped forward, golden flames bursting from her in a wave that consumed the courtyard. The hunters shrieked, shadows unraveling, the warlord stumbling back beneath the blaze.
Her voice rose above the chaos, fierce and unyielding. "I am not your vessel. I am the flame of Aeloria—and I will burn you down!"
The Crown of Dawn on her brow flared, its crystal blazing like the sun. The light seared through the courtyard, cutting shadow apart, forcing the hunters to retreat. The warlord staggered, his cloak aflame, his hollow eyes narrowing in fury before he dissolved into smoke, his voice echoing like a curse:
"This is only the beginning."
---
Silence fell, broken only by ragged breaths and the crackle of dying fire. The courtyard lay in ruins, many of the Keepers wounded, the gates shattered.
Kael caught Isolde as she sagged, her fire dimming, the crown slipping from her brow. His arms steadied her, his voice raw with relief. "You saved us."
But Lady Elira's eyes were grave. "No. She burned them back—but at a cost. The crown awakens more with each use. And Varrow will not stop. He will return with greater shadow, greater hunger."
Kael's grip tightened on the Moonsilver Sword. "Then we don't wait for him. We take the fight to him."
Isolde's gaze lifted, weary but burning with resolve. "To the Hollow itself."
The Keepers exchanged wary glances, but in their silence was truth. The war could no longer be fought in defense. The path forward led only into the heart of shadow.