It began with silence.
No birdsong. No wind. Not even the usual rustle of leaves that whispered beneath the canopy.
Selene noticed it first as she walked the perimeter alone, her senses sharp from unease. The silence wasn't calm—it was the silence before something wrong.
Then the smell hit her.
Or rather, the lack of one.
No scent.
No heat.
Just the cold void of presence, like something unmade had stepped into their world.
She shifted instantly into her wolf form and sprinted back to camp.
---
Kael met her at the edge of the glade.
"You felt it?" he asked.
She nodded. "Something crossed the Veil. It's not rogue. It's not kin."
Theron emerged from the trees, eyes wide, his voice low. "They're... empty."
Everyone turned to him.
"What do you mean?" Rowan asked.
Theron shook his head. "I don't know how else to describe it. I felt them, but not in the way we feel pack. There's nothing inside them. But they wear our shape."
Elira stepped beside him, her expression tight. "What are they?"
Naeria approached slowly, her hands glowing faintly as she reached out with her magic.
And then she gasped.
"By the stars…"
---
Later, they gathered around the scrying pool.
Naeria traced an arcane circle over the water, murmuring ancient incantations that hadn't been spoken since the old war.
The ripples shifted.
And the image came into focus.
A small clearing—near the outer ridge.
Six creatures stood there.
Wolves.
But not.
Their fur shimmered in shades that didn't belong to nature—silver, black, and something like static.
Their eyes were hollow pits, glowing faintly blue.
And carved into their chests—
The Ancients' sigil.
---
Rowan stood. "We need to destroy them."
Theron's voice was flat. "You can't kill what's already empty."
Kael growled, "They bleed?"
Naeria nodded grimly. "They bleed... something."
Selene narrowed her eyes. "Then we hunt them before they find us."
---
The hunting party was swift—Rowan, Kael, Theron, and Selene led it.
Elira stayed behind to protect the camp with Naeria, forming wards that buzzed with silver light.
The twins had grown into more than warriors.
They were now protectors of their kind.
---
The trail was strange—barely visible but lined with scorched soil and dying plants. As if even nature rejected the Hollow Kin.
They found them just before dusk.
The six stood in a half-circle at the edge of a ravine.
Motionless.
Watching.
Waiting.
Rowan stepped forward.
"Identify yourselves."
No response.
Selene lifted her hand, summoning her magic.
The nearest one tilted its head.
Then—without warning—it leapt.
---
The fight was immediate.
Brutal.
Silent.
The Hollow Kin didn't growl. Didn't howl.
They just attacked with terrifying precision.
Kael met one mid-air, flames erupting around him.
Rowan tore into another with silver blades, but it didn't bleed—it leaked, a black mist curling from its body.
Theron was surrounded by two. His shadows danced, slashing them apart—but they reformed, slower, like smoke pulling back into shape.
Only when Selene struck—using her moonbound light—did one scream.
And it shattered.
---
That was the key.
Moonlight.
When they combined Selene's spell with Theron's shadows and Rowan's blades, the rest of the Hollow Kin began to fall.
But not before one looked directly at Selene.
And spoke.
Not with a voice.
But inside her mind.
> The door is open, Moonbound. And you cannot unopen what fate has called.
Then it dissolved into ash.
---
Back at camp, they regrouped in silence.
Naeria examined what little remains they'd brought back—shards of bone, still etched with the sigil.
"This wasn't an accident," she said. "These were sent."
"By the Ancients?" Elira asked.
Naeria hesitated. "Or something worse."
Selene stood slowly, her fingers clenched. "They were testing us. They wanted to see if we were ready."
Rowan nodded. "We passed."
Theron added, "Barely."
---
That night, Selene sat alone by the fire, gazing into the flames.
Kael joined her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
"They're coming," she whispered.
He kissed her temple. "Then let them come."
"We don't even know what they are."
He looked toward the stars. "Then we fight until we do."
---
Meanwhile, deep beyond the Veil...
Where time ran in circles and memories were flesh—
A figure stood watching the Hollow Kin fall.
Not male. Not female.
Not alive.
Wrapped in robes of shifting dust, a crown of ancient root and bone.
It lifted one skeletal hand toward the smoke.
And whispered:
> "Soon, children of the moon."
> "Soon."
---