Chapter 10: The Hollow Within
Ajay didn't remember the moment he stepped into the Hollow. One breath he was standing before it, with Kael at his side, mist curling around their boots. The next, the world shifted and the veil devoured him. Everything became slow, suspended in some otherworldly limbo.
Drakmor Hollow wasn't a place. It was a wound.
Trees grew like crooked ribs of some long-dead beast. Vines pulsed with red light, like veins beneath flesh. The air wasn't air—it was memory and rage and sorrow, pressing against his skin like a second, suffocating layer. No birds. No wind. Just the endless sound of whispering. And breathing.
He turned. Kael was gone.
"Kael?" he called out, his voice swallowed before it left his lips.
Nothing.
Ajay's heartbeat thundered. Not from fear. From anticipation.
He took a shaky breath. Then another. His hands flexed, fire flickering from his fingertips. But even the flame looked unnatural here, as if the Hollow bent its shape and color, twisting it like a cruel reflection.
Then came the visions.
They struck without warning, slamming into his mind like arrows. The first was of his childhood. His uncle, watching silently from the porch as young Ajay scavenged through garbage for a bruised apple. His fingers were bleeding, his shirt torn. But the man just stood there.
The second was Diya's scream as the car hit her. Blood. Screeching metal. Ajay's own voice breaking as he called for help that never came.
Then his mother's face. Soft, gentle. But weeping. Her eyes were gold like his. She leaned over a cradle and whispered words he couldn't hear.
Ajay dropped to one knee, gripping his skull.
"Stop!"
But the Hollow didn't listen.
He saw fire. Cities burning. And at the center of it—himself. Wings of flame. Eyes of wrath. A crown of bone.
You are the end.
You are the beginning.
You are the Hollow.
A voice rose within him, not his own, not the Hollow's.
His mother.
Burn through it, Ajay. Or it will burn through you.
He forced himself to his feet. His knees trembled, but his resolve solidified. A glade opened before him, framed by trees like spears. At its center, floating within a spire of crackling red flame, hovered a black stone shaped like a heart.
The Stone of Origin.
It pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
But before he could take a step, someone moved in the shadows.
Ajay tensed. Flame surged to his palms.
The man emerged slowly.
Tall. Elegant. Cloaked in crimson. His silver eyes gleamed beneath the hood. Familiar. Too familiar.
His uncle.
"You've grown, Ajay," the man said calmly. "And I see she couldn't keep your power sealed forever."
Ajay spat fire from his fingers in a warning arc. "You lied to me. You used me."
His uncle smirked. "And you think I regret it?"
Ajay charged. The forest lit up with flame. His wings cracked into existence, brilliant and raw. But his uncle moved with supernatural speed, dodging, striking, parrying with cruel ease.
"You're strong," he said, drawing a blade of black glass. "But still young. You don't even understand what you are yet."
"I'm not what you made me!"
"No," the uncle admitted. "You're what your mother made you. And that... was her greatest sin."
They clashed. Fire and shadow. Blood and rage. Ajay was fast, but his uncle was ancient. For every blow Ajay landed, his uncle countered with two. His breath grew ragged. The Hollow around them began to warp.
Then Ajay felt it. A deeper pull. The Stone.
It was calling to him.
He turned from the fight and sprinted toward it. His uncle roared, gave chase—but too late. Ajay leapt into the flame.
The fire did not burn. It welcomed.
His hand closed around the Stone.
And his world exploded.
He stood in a vast realm of stars and blood.
Visions surged.
The first dragon. Golden, weeping as it burned its own kin to protect the world.
The first vampire. Betrayed by gods, cast down into shadow.
His mother. Binding the Stone with her own blood.
His father. Falling in battle, sealing away the truth with a final breath.
Then Ajay saw himself.
In ten thousand futures.
As a ruler. A killer. A savior. A tyrant. A god.
He screamed. And the scream shattered the illusion.
Ajay opened his eyes.
The Hollow had changed.
The trees bowed to him. The mist shimmered in reverence. His body was wrapped in golden flame that did not hurt. His wings were vast. His eyes blazed.
The Stone hovered beside him, now embedded in his chest, beating in time with his heart.
His uncle staggered back. "You... you bonded with it."
Ajay took a step forward. The ground cracked beneath him. "I am the last heir. The true Prince."
The shadows stirred.
The Crimson Order appeared from the trees. Twelve robed vampires, faces hidden, power crackling around them.
They bowed.
"My Lord," said the eldest. "We have awaited your rise."
His uncle hissed. "Traitors."
"He is chosen," one of them said. "You are relic."
Ajay didn't speak.
Instead, he turned to the youngest among them. A girl. Pale, wild-eyed, barely older than him. She trembled as he approached.
He touched her forehead. "What is your name?"
"Selene," she whispered.
"Do you swear to follow me, not out of fear, but belief?"
"I do."
His fire sank into her skin. A bond formed.
His first subordinate.
Not a servant.
A flame-born sibling.
The others knelt.
Ajay turned to his uncle. "Leave. Or burn."
The man snarled, then vanished into the mist.
Selene stepped to Ajay's side.
"What now, my lord?"
Ajay looked up.
Toward the stars. Toward the war to come.
"Now we light the world on fire."