The Hollow Court twisted around them, its interior ever-shifting like a waking nightmare. Towering archways bent at impossible angles, staircases led to nowhere, and doorways opened into voids. The shadows slithered along the walls, moving of their own volition, forming brief, ghastly shapes before melting away into the gloom.
Kael, Aurenya, and Silas pressed on, their boots echoing against the cold stone beneath them. The air was dense with the scent of rot and old grief, like a mausoleum sealed too long. There was a tension clinging to them, a feeling that they were not walking through the past—but through memories that remembered them in turn.
Kael moved ahead, his gait fluid but alert, one hand curled loosely around the hilt of his blade. The crimson hue on his hands, the consequence of the curse that bound him, pulsed faintly beneath his gloves. Aurenya could see the tension in his shoulders every time his hands flexed, as though the blood beneath his skin had begun to burn.
Silas followed more slowly, lagging behind the others. His posture was tight, not from weariness, but from something else—some invisible burden that had begun to press harder with each step they took.
"This place…" Silas murmured, barely loud enough for the others to hear. "It knows me...I feel it knows me."
Aurenya turned toward him, her expression softening. His eyes were haunted, wide and searching, as though he saw something the others couldn't.
"We must keep moving," Kael said, his voice steady. But even he glanced toward Silas with concern. The red glow from his curse briefly flickered beneath his sleeve, but he ignored it, focusing instead on his companion's growing unease.
Then came the girl's voice—a whisper echoing unnaturally through the corridor, too loud to come from such a small body, too knowing.
"He's right, this place remembers him."
Silas froze.
The walls around them began to shimmer, then twist, as if stirred by unseen hands. A distortion swept over the hallway like a heatwave, and then suddenly, the air tore open like fabric, revealing a scene suspended in time.
A field. A battlefield.
They stood on the edge of a war-ravaged plain, blood soaking the grass. Amid the carnage stood a younger Silas, no older than eighteen, his armor scorched and dented, his face pale and hollow. Beside him stood another man—his brother. The resemblance was uncanny, though the brother's expression was brighter, fierce with hope.
In front of them loomed a creature that defied logic—a corrupted god. Twisted limbs protruded from its back, and its face was a mass of shifting eyes and mouths. Its body writhed, leaking shadows and flames. The air around it crackled with wrongness.
"Do it!" the brother shouted, gripping his sword, his voice choked with desperation. "Kill it, Silas!"
Silas—now young, frightened, shaking—stood with his sword raised but unmoving.
"I… I can't…"
The hesitation was fatal.
The god's limbs shot forward with a blinding speed. In one swift, horrifying moment, the brother was impaled, lifted into the air, and then cast aside like a broken doll. His scream tore through the air—and through Silas's heart.
Back to the present-day, Silas staggered back, gasping. "No—no, not this."
The Hollow Court fed on the memory, warping the vision. The battlefield melted into darkness, and from the shadows emerged a ghost—his brother, blood still staining his armor, eyes hollow with betrayal.
"You could have saved me," the apparition said, his voice a hollow echo. "You could have killed it, Silas. But you hesitated… and I died."
Silas fell to his knees, hands shaking. "I was scared," he whispered. "I didn't know—"
"You knew!" the ghost spat. "You knew what had to be done. You just couldn't do it."
Kael stepped forward, fists clenched. The red veins crawling up his arms flared beneath his skin, the curse reacting to the surge of emotion in the room. "This place is twisting your memories," he growled. "It feeds on weakness."
"And failure," Aurenya added softly, crouching beside Silas. "But this isn't you now."
"I failed him," Silas said again, tears brimming in his eyes. "I froze. I watched him die."
The Hollow Court echoed with cruel laughter. The shadows danced across the walls, becoming grotesque versions of Silas's brother, all whispering, "You failed."
Aurenya turned sharply. "That's enough!"
A burst of golden light shimmered from her palm, momentarily pushing back the shadows. The vision flickered—then returned again with another form.
The Hollow King.
He emerged from the gloom, his armor the color of dusk, his face an illusion of serene divinity. Empty eyes met Silas's, and he spoke in that familiar smooth, cold tone. "You failed him. That much is true. But what if… you didn't have to?"
Silas looked up.
The Hollow King gestured, and from the gloom, the image of Silas's brother reformed—not as a specter, but as he had been before. Laughing, warm, alive.
"We can return what you lost," the Hollow King offered. "Your brother. Whole. Real."
Silas's breath caught.
"But," the Hollow King said, the illusion already tightening around them, "you must give us the girl."
Aurenya stood slowly, her expression unreadable. "What are you offering?" she asked, though her hand drifted to her side.
"A trade," the Hollow King replied. "Your past in exchange for your present. We return your brother… if you surrender Aurenya."
Silas blinked, his lips parting. "You'd bring him back…?"
The Hollow King nodded.
"But she is the key to everything," he continued. "Her blood unlocks the sealed throne. Her will stokes the fires of eternity. Give her to me, and you can undo your failure."
Kael's body went still. A soft hiss of magic whispered along the edges of his fingertips. The red of his curse had spread higher along his forearms, the veins burning bright beneath his skin like molten light, reacting to the Hollow King's presence.
Silas took a step back.
Aurenya watched him silently, waiting.
He stared at her—this girl who had stood by him when he felt most hollow. This girl who had touched his shoulder when his past screamed in his face.
Silas shook his head.
"No," he whispered.
The Hollow King tilted his head. "No?"
"I won't betray her," Silas said louder, firmer. "She's my friend. My family now. I won't betray her like that."
The illusion faltered.
Kael stepped closer to Aurenya, not to shield her—she didn't need that—but to stand with her. The curse on his hands dimmed, soothed only slightly by the strength of Silas's conviction.
The Hollow King's laughter rang again, though now it trembled faintly at the edges. "Fools. All of you. Chained by sentiment. Chained by your humanity."
"We're not the ones in chains," Aurenya said.
Silence.
The vision evaporated, the Hollow King's voice fading into nothingness. They stood once more in the shifting corridor of the Hollow Court. Only the echo of Silas's breathing filled the void.
Silas looked down at his hands, then toward where the vision had stood.
"I still hear him sometimes," he said quietly. "My brother."
Aurenya stepped closer. "What does he say?"
"That I was a coward."
"And what do you say back?"
Silas inhaled deeply. Then, for the first time in years, he straightened his back and said, "That I'm still here. That I'm trying. That I won't fail again."
Aurenya nodded.
Kael glanced toward the girl—small, strange, ever-watching. Her eyes gleamed like mirrors in the half-light.
"Was this part of your test too?" Kael asked her.
The girl only smiled.
And the court continued shifting, guiding them deeper into its heart.