– The Hollowbinders' Descent
Three Hollowbinders moved like smoke over the charred hills where the Sanctuary once stood.
Their blindfolds fluttered in a wind that spoke in unborn names.
Their steps did not touch the ground.
Each whispered the same chant:
> "Flame must fade.
Cradle must crack.
The breath must not come."
The lead Hollowbinder paused, her veiled head tilting toward the east.
> "She hides in the drowned temple. The one who clutches the child's ember."
They moved — not walking — but gliding like grief toward Liora's refuge.
—
Inside the old temple, Liora pressed the pendant to her chest.
> "You're glowing brighter," she whispered to the flame within. "She's close, isn't she?"
The water around her rippled.
They had arrived.
One of the Hollowbinders' voices cracked through the silence like broken glass.
> "Guardian of flame. Give us the heart… or drown with it."
Liora rose, trembling but defiant, wings outstretched despite the burns.
> "You'll have to unmake me first."
And with that, the battle began — shadow and light clashing beneath the water's reflection.
– Ravon's Dream
While Liora fought beneath the world, Ravon lay still in the Hollow, his breath shallow.
His mind drifted where no flame had ever touched — not even Seraphina's.
> A memory. A mirror. A door.
He stood before a child.
The boy had his eyes.
But no warmth.
> "Who are you?" Ravon asked.
> "I'm who you buried when you took the crown."
> "I was never a king."
> "Not yet. But you were born for fire, not love."
The scene shifted — and Ravon stood in a burning city.
Angels fell from the sky. Demons cried in chains.
A woman cloaked in white stood before a cradle, weeping.
> "Whose memory is this?" Ravon whispered.
The voice behind him answered:
> "Yours. And mine."
> "Seraphina?"
> "No," the voice said. "Your mother."
And suddenly, the dream broke apart — light searing through —
And he awoke in the Hollow gasping, Seraphina holding him.
> "You saw something," she said.
> "I think… I was born of the fire that once ended a world."
> "And now?"
> "Now I might have to become it… to protect a new one."
--
Liora: falling beneath the Hollowbinder's grip, her hand still gripping the pendant.
Ravon: awakened, his past rising like smoke.
Seraphina: listening… as the child whispers again:
> "The cradle tilts. The flame cries. The war begining.