The circle drawn in the dirt glowed faintly, like it had been waiting all these years for someone to speak the right words.
Seren's fingers trembled as she completed the sigil. Her blood dripped onto the soil, sealing the mark. It hissed as it touched earth, and the glow intensified—gold at first, then violet, then white-hot.
The Hollow had heard her.
Something ancient stirred beneath her feet.
And for the first time in her life, Seren wasn't sure if she'd summoned salvation—or damnation.
The ground rumbled softly beneath her boots.
Wind spiraled upward from the center of the circle, though no trees bent and no leaves stirred. It was not wind in the physical sense.
It was presence.
Seren stepped back, shielding her belly as the pulse of magic expanded, forming a column of energy that reached straight into the sky.
Inside the light, a shape began to form.
Not a person.
Not a god.
Something in between.
It was tall—at least seven feet—cloaked in feathers that shimmered like dusk, with a mask that looked carved from black stone. There were no eyes, just a single line of silver where a gaze should've been.
Its voice was not a sound.
It was a vibration inside her head.
"You woke the Hollow."
Seren swallowed hard. "I need its power."
"Power never comes without a price."
She stepped forward, shoulders squared.
"Then I'll pay it."
"Even if it costs your heart?"
Her voice cracked. "It already has."
The entity raised a long, clawed hand.
"Then speak your wish."
Seren hesitated.
Not because she didn't know what to say.
Because once she said it, everything would change.
"I want to save him," she said.
"Your bonded?"
"Yes, Cael."
"You risk the child."
Seren placed her hand on her stomach.
"I'm not giving him up," she said. "I won't sacrifice either of them. You're old enough to understand that kind of love. And if you're not, then burn me with the rest of them."
The light around the entity flared.
Not in anger.
In approval.
"Then you will have both."
The light exploded outward, knocking Seren off her feet. She hit the grass hard, gasping, shielding her belly.
The wind screamed.
The earth split open in lines like veins, glowing hot beneath the moss. From the cracks, energy surged toward her body, pulling through her skin and flooding her veins.
She screamed—but didn't stop it.
Couldn't.
Wouldn't.
The Hollow wasn't offering its power.
It was merging with her.
Bonding.
Marking her as its chosen just as surely as Cael had.
Her body arched. Her bones burned. Her heartbeat synced with something ancient.
And through it all—the baby was silent.
Then suddenly, he responded.
His heartbeat kicked once, twice—
Then echoed.
Not as a separate rhythm.
But as part of hers.
She collapsed to the ground, gasping.
And opened her eyes.
Everything looked different.
Sharper.
Brighter.
Alive.
The Hollow had accepted her.
She had become its vessel.
She stood slowly, blinking.
There were symbols burning faintly along her arms and neck—veins of silver and violet, pulsing in tune with her breath. They didn't hurt. They fit.
The baby stirred.
Calm.
Steady.
"Okay," she whispered. "Let's bring him back."
She moved faster than before.
Not running—gliding.
The Hollow cleared a path for her as if it recognized one of its own. Trees bent away. Roots pulled back. Animals stayed hidden.
When she reached the ridge overlooking the tower, she nearly dropped to her knees.
The outpost was in ruins.
Smoke curled into the sky in thick coils. Fire still licked the sides of the stone. The top floor had collapsed entirely. Bodies were scattered at the edge of the hill—burned, broken, discarded like failed weapons.
She scanned frantically.
"Cael," she whispered.
Then she felt him.
Not through the bond.
Through the earth.
The Hollow showed her where to look.
She sprinted down the hill, the magic guiding her steps.
He was pinned beneath a beam of shattered stone, unconscious but alive. His shirt was torn, his body bruised and bloodied, but the light of the bond still flickered faintly around his wrist.
She dropped beside him.
"Cael," she said, brushing hair from his forehead. "Hey. Look at me."
He didn't respond.
The bond pulsed weakly.
Not broken. But dim.
"Don't you dare give up on me," she said, her voice cracking. "You survived that tower, that fire, and me. You don't get to stop here."
She pressed both palms to his chest and closed her eyes.
The Hollow surged in her blood.
Magic moved like a current between them.
And slowly—
He stirred.
Eyes opened.
Silver-gold.
He blinked. "Seren?"
She exhaled shakily.
Then punched his shoulder.
Hard.
"Ow," he groaned.
"You idiot," she snapped, tears blurring her vision. "I told you not to do anything reckless."
"I was buying you time."
"I don't want your sacrifice. I want you."
He smiled, weak but real.
"You've got me."
It took nearly everything she had to heal him enough to move. The magic of the Hollow wasn't meant to be used so directly—it wanted reverence, not desperation. But it obeyed her.
Cael leaned against her as they climbed the ridge.
"Did you… do something?" he asked, breathless.
Seren smiled faintly. "I asked nicely."
"What did it cost?"
She touched her chest.
"Something I haven't lost yet," she said.
He frowned.
But didn't press.
At the edge of the forest, they found a place to rest.
A hollow tree. Dry inside. Hidden.
Seren laid Cael down gently and sat beside him, arms crossed over her knees.
The fire was out.
The war had started.
But for now… they were both alive.
"I felt you," he murmured.
She looked at him.
"In the flames. I felt you calling me back."
She nodded once. "You listened."
"I always do."
He reached for her hand.
And this time, the bond glowed brightly between them.
Whole.
Undeniable.
Alive.
That night, Seren didn't sleep.
She watched the stars through a crack in the bark.
The child slept soundly inside her.
Cael breathed softly beside her.
And in the back of her mind, the Hollow whispered.
"The world knows you now."
"And it's coming."