The Hollow thrummed with magic. Since the Ember Stone's awakening, the air pulsed with a quiet warmth—like the heartbeat of something vast and ancient. Villagers moved with a strange mix of urgency and calm. They believed, now more than ever, that the flame would protect them.
But deep beneath their feet, the darkness moved unseen.
The Whispering Path stirred.
Veiled scouts—more mist than flesh—slipped through the forgotten tunnels below the village. The barrier that burned so brightly above could not touch the earth below. In the silence of stone, they crept forward like cold breath in a crypt. Their steps were soundless. Their presence left no trace.
And yet, above, Chizzy couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
She stood in the center of the training field, overseeing the final rounds of defensive preparations. Talia and Aerun were coordinating the night watches, while Kiran taught the villagers how to move in combat formations. But Chizzy's mind was elsewhere.
She pressed her hand to the earth. It felt… wrong. The warmth from the Ember Stone did not reach here. Instead, there was a coldness beneath the soil, subtle and pulsing—like a wound festering beneath skin.
Sera approached, brow furrowed. "You feel it too, don't you?"
Chizzy looked up. "Something's moving. Under us."
"The flame speaks in layers," Sera whispered, glancing around. "Some of those layers have been sealed since the Keeper Wars. But now they're… thinning."
"I want every Keeper relic brought to the temple," Chizzy said. "Especially the ones with binding or sealing runes."
Sera nodded and rushed off. Chizzy stayed a moment longer, staring at the ground. The earth was alive. But not all life was good.
Far below, the scouts reached the first chamber.
Cracked walls bore the symbols of the original Keepers—long faded, but still potent. The magic here was old and slow, like dying coals. The lead scout, a wraith-like figure named Thorne, pressed a dagger to his palm and spilled blackened blood on the floor. The runes groaned.
The seal gave way.
Tunnel by tunnel, the Whispering Path opened.
Above ground, Aerun found Chizzy near the village well, her gaze locked on the forest edge.
"You've been quiet," he said softly.
She turned to him, eyes troubled. "Because I feel like the ground is listening."
He tilted his head. "The ground?"
She nodded. "Something's moving through it. I think they're not coming over the walls, Aerun. I think they're already inside them."
He stiffened, the color draining slightly from his face. "The tunnels."
"I didn't know they still existed," she said, voice tight. "They weren't in the Keeper texts I've read."
"Because they were erased," Aerun murmured. "My grandfather told me once—there were passages used during the last siege. But the Keepers sealed them with soulfire. No one thought they'd ever open again."
"Well, something just proved them wrong."
Just then, a tremor shook the earth beneath them.
A whisper echoed across the well, barely audible, like breath slipping from a corpse.
"Burn bright… so you may fall."
Chizzy's hand flew to the amulet at her chest. It pulsed, violently.
"They're already here," she whispered.
The two of them ran toward the central square, shouting for the guards. Bells rang. Lights blazed. The village, which had stood in peace just moments ago, erupted into preparation once more.
Underground, Thorne and the Veil's scouts spread through the pathways like infection. The Whispering Path had awakened.
And now, the Hollow's war was no longer a future threat.
It had begun.