The Hollow stirred with new breath.
After Chizzy's return from the depths, the village entered a frenzy of preparation. Blacksmiths hammered through the night. Children practiced chants once reserved for Keepers. Talia and Sera set up a flamewatch perimeter, using the old sigils around the Ember Stone.
Hope was beginning to bloom again—but so was danger.
They arrived just after sunrise.
A caravan of survivors—tattered, bruised, hollow-eyed—staggered to the southern gate. Thirty or so in number, they carried the markings of distant hamlets. Most bore burns or claw marks. Some had children in their arms.
Captain Aerun raised a hand and shouted from the battlements, "Halt! This is sacred ground. State your purpose."
A tall woman stepped forward. Her hair was silvered from ash, but her posture was too erect for a traveler. "We seek sanctuary," she called, voice hoarse. "We were attacked—creatures from the veil tore through our homes. We followed the old maps here."
Aerun frowned. He looked to Talia, who stood beside him. "Your call," he murmured.
Talia narrowed her eyes. "Let them in. But search them first."
Inside the gates, the villagers offered water and bandages. Chizzy arrived just in time to see the woman kneeling before the Ember shrine, eyes lowered.
Sera leaned close to her. "Something about them feels… off."
"They seem real enough," Chizzy murmured, watching the children. "Scared. Hurt. Human."
"Maybe too human," Sera replied, tone cautious.
Later that evening, a girl named Marei—no more than ten—was found sitting near the Ember Stone, carving symbols into the ground with a charred stick. One of the Keepers spotted her.
"What are you drawing?" he asked gently.
Marei blinked slowly, her eyes unfocused. "I'm listening."
"To what?"
She tilted her head, as if hearing something far away. "The dark one with the sharp smile. He speaks inside my eyes."
The Keeper went still.
Before he could move, the girl's hand jerked, stabbing the stick deep into her own palm.
Blood hit the stone, and the runes around her sizzled.
That was the first breach.
The stone didn't crack—but it twitched, just slightly, like something beneath it was shifting again.
Sera found Chizzy training in the clearing and pulled her aside. "One of the new children tried to draw blood at the Ember Stone. The runes reacted."
Chizzy's brow furrowed. "Sabotage?"
"Or something worse," Sera said. "I think Malrec's using them. Infiltration. He's hidden part of himself in their minds."
Chizzy inhaled sharply, realization dawning. "The Forgotten."
It was a legend only few Keepers dared whisper about: Veil-spawn that wore the faces of survivors, cloaked in emotion and loss so believable even the Ember couldn't reject them.
"We need to test them," Chizzy said. "Find a way to reveal the truth without causing panic."
But as she spoke, the tall silver-haired woman stepped out from the shadows nearby. She was no longer hunched or weak. Her eyes glowed faintly.
"You won't need to test us," she said.
Chizzy turned slowly. "Then who are you?"
The woman smiled. "We are your future. The ones who burned but remained. We are what happens when fire forgets."
And then she vanished—her form collapsing into ash.
Panic surged in the square as whispers spread. Children screamed. Villagers clutched loved ones.
Chizzy stepped forward, fire already blooming in her palms.
"We've let the enemy in."
And far beneath the Hollow, Malrec smiled.
"The First Flame burns bright. But shadows… always find their way inside."