The forest devoured Aleron's footfalls as he sprinted branches grasping at his cloak like grasping hands to restrain him. The Echoed One—those eyes, those unnatural motions—remained seared in his memory. He had witnessed death previously; every hunter, on the outskirts had. Yet this… this was not death. This was an entity donning death as a disguise.
Liora faltered next to him her light hair stuck to her skin from sweat and fog, from the river. "It was chasing us " she murmured, out of breath. "It recognized my name."
He decelerated just as they arrived at the ridge overlooking the ravine the moon casting a glow through shredded storm clouds. "How could it recognize your name?" Aleron inquired. "We've never encountered anything, like that creature."
"I'm not sure." Her voice quivered. ". It seemed like—"
She interrupted herself shaking her head. "No. It's not important."
It was important.. He held back. For now.
Aleron knelt low eyes sweeping the woodland behind them. The trees remained motionless painfully motionless as though the forest itself was pausing to breathe. Not a single insect stirred in the night. Whenever the forest fell into hushed stillness every villager understood it was time to flee.
Liora clasped her arms tightly around herself. Inhaled with a trembling breath. "You noticed the mark on its chest didn't you?"
Aleron gulped.
The same mark carved into the skin of those found dead in the past month.
The same mark engraved on the stone altar beneath the ruined watchtower.
The identical symbol he had noticed ago—years back—etched on a leather-covered book his father warned him always to avoid.
A spiraling sigil resembling a serpent swallowing its own shadow.
"Yes " he replied softly.
Liora's eyes grew large. "In that case it must be the work of the Veiled One."
Aleron tensed. "The Veiled One is a legend. A tale told to prevent kids from straying into the forest."
"Stories emerge from something " she murmured, raising her chin toward the valley beneath. ". Whatever unfolds in Hollow's Edge… the stories are stirring."
Aleron attempted to refuse—. The vision of that being its throat cut but speaking in a tone as frigid, as darkened rock robbed him of his reply.
"She recalls you."
That sound was off resembling a thousand voices all talking together beneath the surface.
He pushed the memory aside. "We must return to the village. Alert the Elders."
Liora shook her head vigorously. "Are you insane? They'll believe we're fabricating the story.. Even worse—they'll blame us for causing it."
Aleron began to speak in protest. The soil, under his feet trembled—as if the land had breathed out.
A low resonant moan echoed across the woodland.
Liora seized his arm. "Aleron… see this."
The fog in the gorge swirled. It didn't twist effortlessly. Float along with the breeze—but coiled, drawn into a form. A form creating eyes. A face. A face familiar, to them both.
His mother's.
Aleron took a step unsteady. "That can't be real."
The mist-face parted its lips regardless.
And screamed.
The noise was not human.. Was it an animal. It resembled the sound he pictured the earth making if its skeleton were fracturing. He pressed his hands firmly against his ears as the trees moaned beneath its intensity.
Then the mist-face dissolved.
For an instant neither took a breath.
Liora was the earliest to speak up. "Aleron… your mother… she's passed away hasn't she?"
He gazed at the gorge his throat constricted. "She passed away eight years ago."
At minimum that was the story he shared with everyone. What he had compelled himself to accept as truth.
Her remains were never discovered.
The quiet lingered, oppressive.
At last Liora murmured, "We ought not remain here. Something desires for us to witness these things."
Aleron nodded quietly. "And whatever it is… it has grown stronger now."
They traced the ridge as the forest grew sparse and the dim lantern glimmers of Hollow's Edge came into view afar. Smoke spiraled from the chimneys—an amount of smoke. A tightening fear twisted in Alerons gut.
"That's unusual " he murmured.
Liora stopped. "Aleron… there's a problem."
He started running.
Approaching the village entrance a scent overwhelmed them—scorched timber, metal and something more dreadful: the odor of incinerated flesh.
"No…" Aleron exhaled softly.
The external shacks were engulfed in fire with flames consuming the straw-covered roofs. Residents dashed through the haze carrying buckets filled with water shouting out names. The Elder's bell rung loudly calling all who remained alive.
Aleron seized a woman walking by. "What's going on?"
She wept. "It emerged from the forest. A silhouette. A shape. It stepped into the plaza and everything ignited like oil!"
He felt a chill run through his veins.
The identical entity that pursued them.
The identical sound that uttered his mother's voice through the fog.
Liora pressed her hand to her mouth tears welling in her eyes from the smoke and dread. "Aleron… have we arrived late?"
Before he had a chance to respond the bell tower split due to the heat with a snap and fell apart scattering sparks, into the sky resembling a swarm of fireflies.
The villagers shouted.
The fire blazed upward.
Amid the smoke—right past the blazing well—Aleron noticed it.
Standing perfectly still.
Watching him.
Its form resembled a human. It was off. Its arms and legs were excessively extended. Its neck was twisted unnaturally to the side as if fractured.. Etched across its chest…
The spiraling sigil.
The serpent swallowing its own shadow.
Liora's nails pressed into his arm. "That's the one, from the river."
"No " Aleron murmured. "This one's larger."
The being lifted its head.
And spoke.
In his mother's voice.
"Aleron please return home."
All movement, within him came to a halt.
Liora dragged him backward. "Ignore this—Aleron don't—"
The being advanced the fire twisting around its outline, as though paying homage to it.
Then its surface fractured—breaking like china—exposing a fiery red light underneath.
It raised its hand.
The planet appeared to take a breath.
Aleron felt his stomach sink.
"No—GET OUT!" he yelled.
But they were too slow.
The being's limb caught fire.
Then a surge of flames burst forth—
rushing straight toward them.