The impact. I rolled across stone, breath knocked from me. My arms trembled.
I spat—blood, or fear, I couldn't tell.
Acrid stench burned my nose. Darkness everywhere, dust thick on my tongue.
— Get up.
The figure. Voice rougher now, breathless.
I tried to move, but pain tore through my arm.
— It hurts… I can't.
— You must. They're coming.
A rumble, behind the bone gate. Boots. The Mark hissed inside my skull.
I tried to rise. My palm slipped on sticky stone.
— I… the Mark is draining me.
— The more you fight, the more it takes. Deny it your fear.
A wet laugh rang through my head. The Mark stretched, twitching.
— Easy to say, I spat. It wants everything.
— Don't give it all. You hear me? Offer it a dead piece.
I clenched my jaw.
Pain gnawed my arm, steady, sharp. The taste of iron.
— What's a dead piece?
— A memory already faded. A promise already broken. Something useless.
The sounds drew closer. I searched.
Nothing. All that remained was pain, fatigue, my name almost gone.
— I… I have nothing left.
— Liar. No one is empty. Search.
My breath faltered. The Mark growled.
Its hunger, savage, unrelenting.
— I'll take fear, it whispered. I'll take shadow, if you deny me light.
— Wait!
My voice cracked off the stone.
I scoured my mind, reaching for something that no longer bled.
— My father's face, I whispered. In memory he never had eyes.
The Mark slid cold beneath my skin, devouring.
A hollow opened inside me.
The pain eased, slightly.
— Did… did it work?
— You're standing. Run.
I rose.
My wound burned, but the Mark curled, half-asleep.
— Where's the way out?
— There. See the glow?
A pale halo at the abyss's edge.
I staggered, each step chewing away my strength.
— They'll… they'll catch me.
— Not if you pay again. But you can't give the same thing twice.
A thud behind. Shadows poured in.
— If I give too much, what do I become?
— A hollow for the Mark. Or worse, its beast.
A shiver.
I clutched the glass shard tight.
— I refuse. Not this time.
The halo widened. A warm breath.
One step, then two. The light. Vertigo.
— You've understood, the Mark whispered. To open, you must lose. But not all. Lose all, and you're nothing.
A howl tore the tunnel.
The figure yanked my sleeve.
— Move!
I leapt, void beneath my feet.
The Mark laughed, shrill.
— The next threshold won't take memories. It will want your voice.
My throat tightened.
I gave no answer.
At the end of the abyss, a gate of mist waited.
I reached for it.
Cold bit deep.
I opened my mouth, ready to speak.
But no sound came out.