The wind in the canyon was dry and cold. Kaivaan walked silently behind Oryan and Noira, eyes half-open, body sore from the duel.
But his mind wasn't on the road.
Something else was there — a whisper.
Soft, curling in the back of his skull, like smoke in a locked room.
"Kaivaan…"
He blinked and shook his head. It had started after the fight — the voice.
It wasn't loud. Not like a scream. It was gentle. Too gentle.
Oryan's voice broke the silence.
"We're close. The village is just ahead."
"What exactly happened here?" Noira asked, floating slightly off the ground as she walked.
"A boy," Oryan said, "offered his voice to the Monster. Wanted magic before the Ceremony. But the magic turned on him — and the village vanished."
Kaivaan frowned.
"Vanished?"
"You'll see."
The village looked untouched. But something was wrong.
No wind. No noise.
Birds hung mid-air. A dropped spoon hovered above a wooden table.
People stood mid-step — frozen, yet breathing — their eyes glassy and unfocused.
Kaivaan stepped forward and waved in front of a woman's face.
Nothing.
"It's like time… stopped," he muttered.
Oryan nodded grimly.
"Or magic warped it."
A low hum vibrated through the air. And Kaivaan's chest tightened.
"They're watching…"
The voice again.
Suddenly, a loud screech echoed through the village center.
A figure crawled out from the old shrine — limbs too long, face half-covered in cracked runes.
A boy — no older than twelve — but his mouth was sealed shut. Skin pale, eyes black, and runes burned into his chest.
"That's him," Oryan said.
"The Hollow."
The boy raised his hands. A twisted wave of gray magic pulsed out — and the air rippled like glass.
Kaivaan's black fire burst from his hands instinctively, shielding Noira and himself from the blast.
"Kaivaan!" Noira yelled, surprised. "You reacted before he even moved!"
Kaivaan didn't answer.
He hadn't reacted — the flame had moved on its own.
"Because I am always watching," whispered the voice in his head.
The Hollow boy attacked again — gray blades of silence flying across the village.
Kaivaan jumped forward, fire trailing behind his feet. He clashed with the gray energy, pushing it back with spiraling black fire.
Noira flanked, casting rays of focused light from both hands, trapping the enemy inside a dome of glowing chains.
But the Hollow screamed — and his mouth, though sealed, ripped open. Soundless, agonizing magic exploded outward, shattering the chains.
Kaivaan stood still, arms open.
"Hit me!" he roared to Noira.
"What?!"
"Do it!"
She didn't hesitate. A flash of light slammed into Kaivaan's back — charging his fire.
Kaivaan clenched his fists and screamed, unleashing a black nova of flame.
The Hollow was thrown into the air, crashing into the shrine wall.
He didn't move again.
The village unpaused. The spoon dropped. Birds flew again. People collapsed, confused but alive.
Kaivaan stood silently, breathing hard. The flame around his arms still flickered — but weaker now.
Noira approached slowly.
"You've changed," she said softly. "You're… faster. Sharper."
Kaivaan didn't answer. He stared at the sky.
"You're helping me, aren't you?" he whispered to the voice in his mind.
"No, Kaivaan," it replied, "I'm simply waking up."
Later that night, as they rested by a fire, Oryan sat alone, whispering to himself.
"The Monster isn't gone. It's in him. And every time he uses that fire… it grows."
He looked over at Kaivaan, sleeping under the stars.
"Emotion is leaking back into him. But if that thing inside stirs too much…"
He didn't finish the thought.
He didn't need to.