The mountain stronghold faded behind them, its fires left burning as a beacon to any who might still seek the Keepers. Kael, Isolde, and two dozen warriors in ash-gray cloaks wound their way down the passes, their banners hidden, their steps heavy with both purpose and dread.
The Crown of Dawn pulsed faintly in Isolde's pack, its glow impossible to extinguish. Even muffled by cloth, its light seemed to call to the world around them. Forests hushed as they passed. Animals fled before their presence. The very air thickened, charged with an unseen tension.
Kael rode at the front, the Moonsilver Sword at his side. He glanced back often, his eyes never leaving Isolde for long. She rode just behind him, her hands clenched tight on the reins, her face pale from sleepless nights. The crown's whispers followed her constantly now, growing sharper, clearer.
Take me to the Hollow. Break the chains. End the waiting.
She forced her gaze forward, whispering only to herself. "I am not yours."
---
On the third day, they reached the lowlands. The land here was scarred—fields blackened, rivers fouled, villages abandoned to ash. The closer they came to the Hollow, the more the Shadow King's poison spread.
It was near one such village, a scattering of ruins with a broken well at its heart, that the ambush came.
Arrows rained from the treeline, whistling death. A Keeper fell with a cry, another shielded Isolde before she could react. Hunters cloaked in black burst from the shadows, their blades humming with dark runes.
"Hold formation!" Kael roared, the Moonsilver Sword blazing as he met the charge. Silver arcs carved through the hunters, scattering shadow with each strike.
Isolde leapt from her horse, fire surging in her hands. Golden light burst outward, scorching the air, driving back the attackers. Yet as her flames grew, so too did the crown's voice within her:
Yes. Burn them. Burn until the world kneels.
She staggered, clutching her head as the fire raged dangerously out of control. For a moment, the ground itself threatened to split beneath her, stone glowing like molten gold.
Kael cut down an enemy and turned, shouting over the chaos. "Isolde! Don't give it to him—stay with me!"
Her breath shuddered, her fire threatening to consume everything. But she locked her gaze on Kael, on the steadiness in his eyes, and forced the inferno back into her veins. The flames dimmed, though the whispers lingered.
---
The Keepers fought fiercely, but the hunters were many. Lady Elira's staff blazed as she struck down foe after foe, her voice ringing above the clash. "Do not falter! The Hollow draws them, but so too does it strengthen us!"
At last, the final hunter fell, his body dissolving into smoke. The battlefield was silent but for ragged breaths and the moans of the wounded. A dozen hunters lay scattered, but so too did five of the Keepers, their blood staining the ash.
Kael wiped his blade, his jaw clenched in fury. "Varrow knew we'd come this way. He's watching every step."
Isolde sank to her knees, trembling, her hands still glowing faintly. "Kael… the crown wanted me to burn them all. Not just the hunters—everyone. I don't know how much longer I can fight it."
He dropped beside her, cupping her face in his hands. "Then don't fight it alone. If it pulls at you, I'll pull back harder. I'll never let you fall to him."
Her eyes closed, a single tear slipping free. "And if I do?"
Kael's grip tightened. "Then I'll burn with you before I let him claim you."
---
The Keepers buried their dead by the ruined well, their chants carrying low into the wind. That night, as they camped on the edge of the blackened plain, the crown glowed steadily, casting faint rays into the dark.
And far below, in the Hollow's depths, another chain broke. The Shadow King stirred, his laughter echoing through the night air.
Come closer, little flame. You carry me with every step.