The Emberlight Institute buzzed with rumors.
A student had confronted a Devourer.
Another had disappeared into the Hollow Archives and hadn't come out.
An entire class had reported seeing a golden figure in the sky, unmarked by space or time, and none of them could remember what it said.
But through it all, Kael moved in silence.
He didn't flinch when people stared.
Didn't respond to whispers.
Didn't break stride when even professors paused in their lectures to study him like a symbol drawn from prophecy.
Because Kael Aetherborne had stepped past the point of waiting.
He had begun the Path of Hollow Light.
Not a recognized technique.
Not even a relic of the past.
It was a path he was making.
And every step he took along it, the world felt slightly… more aware of him.
⸻
Lirae's Dilemma
In the upper towers, Lirae Veyne stood in the Seers' Sanctum.
The other Seers were whispering too fast for human ears. Threads of fate fluttered across their fingers like harp strings.
She stood apart.
Because she had seen something no one else had.
Not the end of a timeline.
Not a possibility.
But a fracture. A point where everything forked.
Where Kael either became a savior—
—or something no one could contain.
"Lirae," one of the elders said, voice aged like stone grinding stone, "You've spent too much time with him."
She didn't argue.
The elder continued, "You no longer see clearly. Your feelings distort the web."
Lirae clenched her fists.
"He's not what the prophecies claim. I've seen how he resists the madness. You haven't."
A silence fell.
Then the elder tilted his head.
"Perhaps we haven't. But the Hollow Veil watches."
And then, like a dream collapsing, the Seers vanished from the room—faded like ash.
Only Lirae remained.
Alone.
⸻
A Broken Lesson
Kael returned to the Emberforge Chamber—a testing hall where only the most advanced initiates trained.
But tonight, it was empty.
Except for one presence.
Master Tal'Vorr.
The teacher of Body, whose strength was fabled even in higher realms.
"You came to test the impossible," Tal'Vorr said, tossing aside his cloak to reveal layered battle runes etched into muscle and bone.
"I came to make it possible," Kael replied.
They didn't waste time.
No words.
No preamble.
Fist met flame. Muscle collided with thought. Kael danced between techniques—body, mind, spirit—in a blur that should not have been sustainable.
Tal'Vorr grunted once.
Then his aura cracked.
He was not holding back.
This was real.
The force of their blows shattered the obsidian floor. Runes burned in the air. Each movement sent shockwaves down the walls, glyphs flickering in ancient panic.
And then—
Kael stepped through Tal'Vorr's final strike.
Not dodged.
Passed through.
Like light through glass.
Like will through time.
He reappeared behind the master and placed two fingers at his spine.
"Yield."
Tal'Vorr froze.
"How?"
Kael lowered his hand. "I didn't overpower you. I became something your body didn't know how to counter."
The master turned, slowly.
His face was unreadable.
Then he bowed.
Deeply.
"You walk where none have walked. The Emberforge is yours, Kael."
Kael only nodded.
He hadn't come for glory.
He came to sharpen the blade.
⸻
The Hollow's Hand
Far away, in a ruined temple forgotten by most of the living realms, a creature stirred from a black chrysalis.
It was made of light.
But hollow.
Not radiant.
Draining.
Its eyes opened without pupils.
Its body shimmered like false memories.
And it smiled.
Because the Circle of the Hollow Veil had found their tool.
Not Kael.
Not yet.
But another.
A boy who once stood beside Kael in his earliest years.
Who had died protecting him in a fire.
Or so Kael believed.
Now reborn.
Not as a man.
But as a vessel.
"Bring him to us," the voices whispered in the Hollow tongue.
"He is incomplete."
"And soon… so shall Kael be."
⸻
Reflections in Flame
Later that night, Kael sat by the lake at the edge of the Institute.
The moon rippled across the water.
He watched it, silent, until a soft step disturbed the grass behind him.
Lirae.
"You changed," she said.
"I am changing."
She knelt beside him.
"You're not alone, Kael. Even if the world tries to make you think you are."
He didn't answer right away.
Then: "I had a brother once. Not by blood. But closer than one. He died saving me."
Lirae stayed silent.
Kael continued, "Lately I keep dreaming he's alive. But not… right."
"Maybe that's a warning."
"Maybe it's a memory."
Their eyes met.
In that moment, two paths crossed—and something unseen recorded it.
Not fate.
Not prophecy.
But choice.
The very thing the Immortals died trying to preserve.
And Kael made another one.
"I'm going to find the source of the Hollow Veil. I can't wait for the war to come. I'll bring it to me."
Lirae stared. "That's suicide."
"No," Kael said. "That's control."
⸻
Elsewhere, the Circle Moves
The Hollow Circle gathered once again.
Their mirror now showed two images.
Kael.
And the newly awakened vessel—the boy once called Therin.
Twisted by Hollow light.
"We let them meet," said one voice.
"Let Kael see what he has lost. Let the pain complete the key."
"And if he resists?"
"He won't."
The mirror shimmered.
Kael and Therin.
One with the spark of immortality.
The other with the hunger of something worse.
A collision was coming.
And the world would not survive the aftermath untouched.