The mist had begun to thin, but the Hollow of Whispers was far from harmless. Every step Kael and Isolde took seemed measured against unseen eyes. Roots still twitched, shadows still lingered at the edges of their vision, and the air carried the faint hum of a power too old to name.
Kael scanned the path ahead. "We need to move quickly. The Hollow will not forgive hesitation."
Isolde nodded, brushing the sweat from her brow. "I thought… once we drove the echo back, it would end."
Kael shook his head. "That was only the first test. The Hollow itself is alive, and the Shadow King's influence reaches beyond that echo. He is waiting for us to falter."
The ground trembled beneath their feet. Mist coalesced into ghostly hands, reaching for them, grasping at their clothes, their skin, their very souls. Isolde's hands flared with golden light, forcing the spectral limbs back. Kael swung his sword, cutting through shadow after shadow, though each strike seemed to multiply the figures around them.
"They never stop," Isolde whispered, panic rising.
"They won't," Kael said, eyes sharp. "But we have something they don't—each other, and your magic."
The Hollow seemed to respond to her fear and courage alike. Images of their past—failures, regrets, and doubts—danced before them, attempting to turn Kael against her, her against him. For a moment, Isolde faltered, seeing Kael's face twisted into doubt, accusing her of drawing him into danger.
Kael caught her hand, grounding her. "Isolde… it's not real. Focus on now. Focus on us."
Her magic surged again, brighter, steadier, pushing back the illusions, breaking the Hollow's hold on their minds. The path ahead cleared slightly, revealing a narrow passage where moonlight bled through the canopy.
"Through there," Kael said, leading the way. "It's the only exit I can see."
As they ran, the whispers grew louder, no longer just echoing in the mist but in their very minds.
"You cannot escape. The flame is only a spark. Soon, the bound will awaken… and everything will burn."
Isolde felt the weight of the words press against her chest, a shiver running down her spine. "The bound… Kael, what does that mean? Is it him? The Shadow King?"
Kael's face darkened. "Yes. That echo was just a fragment, a test. Whatever was bound centuries ago… it is still tethered to the Hollow. The Shadow King is not gone. Not fully. And if he awakens… we won't just be running for our lives—we'll be running for the kingdom itself."
The mist thickened once more as they neared the passage. Roots and shadows lashed out in a final attempt to trap them, but Isolde's golden light combined with Kael's sword strikes created a corridor of safety, a fragile path through the chaos.
They stumbled out into a faint clearing beyond the Hollow, gasping for air, hearts pounding, clothes torn, and faces streaked with dirt and sweat. The moonlight here was brighter, the air lighter, but a lingering sense of danger remained.
Kael sank to one knee, pressing a hand to his brow. "We made it… but the Hollow has marked us. That echo… it knows us now. And the Shadow King will not wait long before he strikes again."
Isolde sank beside him, trembling. "Then we have to be ready. Whatever it takes… we can't let him rise."
Kael's gaze hardened, determination burning in his eyes. "We won't. The Hollow has tested us, but we survived. That's proof enough—we are not weak. The Shadow King may be bound, but we have fire, courage… and each other. And that is something even he cannot undo."
The mist receded completely, leaving the two of them under the pale, serene moonlight. For a moment, the terror of the Hollow felt distant, almost like a fading nightmare. But in the shadows at the edges of the clearing, a faint, dark ripple lingered, as if watching, waiting, and whispering:
"Soon… the flame will burn. And I will rise."
Kael rose to his feet, extending a hand to Isolde. "Come on. We need to get back to the village. We've faced the Hollow, yes—but this is only the beginning. The real fight… has yet to come."
Together, they stepped forward, leaving the Hollow of Whispers behind, though its echoes and warnings clung to their minds like the faintest of shadows.
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