The sky wept ash as Mara stepped out of the temple.
She was different now—she could feel it. The ember mark pulsed faintly beneath her skin, no longer a separate shard but part of her. She didn't burn. Not yet. But every step felt like walking through smoke laced with sparks, like she carried fire just beneath the surface of her skin.
Talon stood at the edge of the Hollow, eyes wide.
"What did you do?" he asked quietly.
Mara didn't answer. She wasn't sure how to.
Before she could speak, the ground rumbled.
A tremor—small, but wrong.
Talon's hand went to the hilt of his knife. "That wasn't the Hollow."
From the north, a black mist rolled across the ashfields. Fast. It didn't behave like smoke or wind—it twisted and coiled, crawling across the land like it was alive.
The Ashborn woman stepped out beside them, her expression grim. "It woke too."
Mara narrowed her eyes. "What is it?"
The woman's voice was low. "The Hollow King. He was sealed when the Heart was broken. As long as it slept, so did he. But now…"
The mist grew closer, and shapes moved within it—twisted figures, long-limbed and bent, eyes like coals in pitch-black skulls. One of them shrieked, and the sound pierced the air like shattering glass.
"Run," the Ashborn woman commanded. "You are not ready."
But Mara didn't move. The fire inside her surged—not fear, but fury. The same fury she felt when her village burned. When her mother died. When the world gave up.
"I won't run," she said, stepping forward. "Not again."
She raised her hand—and flame leapt from her palm without effort. It crackled in the air, wrapping around her like a cloak.
Talon stared, stunned. "Mara…"
The first of the shadow beasts lunged.
And Mara met it with fire.
The creature screamed as flame devoured it midair. The others hesitated.
"They remember," the Ashborn whispered. "They fear the flame."
But fear wouldn't stop them for long.
More shadows emerged from the mist. A great shape moved behind them—taller than the rest, horned, with a crown of bone rising from its head.
The Hollow King.
He raised one clawed hand, and the air around them bent—darkness thickening like smoke made solid.
Mara clenched her fists, the ember in her chest burning brighter.
This time, she wouldn't lose.
This time, the flame would fight back.
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