The scream echoed through the hollowed chamber like a blade slicing through silence.
"My father…" Elira whispered again, barely believing the words.
Caelum was already on his feet, limping slightly, eyes locked on the now-gaping doorway. From within poured cold air laced with damp earth and magic so old it tasted metallic.
"Elira, you said your father died during the forest purge."
"He did," she replied shakily. "Or… I thought he did."
Caelum's hand found hers. "Then whatever's behind that door may not be what it seems."
She nodded, gripping the pendant around her neck as they stepped through the doorway together.
Beyond the threshold lay a corridor carved from living roots and blackened stone, lit by eerie green orbs floating in midair. The path twisted downward, into the belly of the Hollow—its very heart. And at the end of it stood a chamber.
A cage made of silverwood and bound in runes sat at its center.
Inside, chained and slumped, was a man.
Hair matted, skin pale, clothes in tatters—but his face bore a striking resemblance to Elira's. He lifted his head as they approached, eyes wide.
"Elira?" the man gasped. "Is it… truly you?"
Her heart raced. "Father?"
Tears welled in her eyes.
"Don't move," Caelum warned, his blade drawn. "This could be an illusion."
The man—her father—struggled to his feet. The chains shimmered with binding magic. "Caelum… you're alive."
"You know me?" Caelum narrowed his eyes.
"I served your father," the man replied. "I was his royal scribe before the rebellion. I followed Lady Alena—Elira's mother—into exile after the fall."
Elira stepped forward. "Then… how are you alive? Why are you here?"
He looked at her with guilt in his eyes. "Because I led Nyra here… and she betrayed us both."
A chill swept the chamber.
Before either of them could respond, the air behind them split open like torn cloth—Nyra stepped through a rip in the Hollow, flanked by two cloaked figures with glowing crimson eyes.
"Well done, little Warden," she said with a sneer. "You opened the vault for me."
"Stay back," Caelum snarled, taking a defensive stance.
Nyra's gaze flicked to him, then back to Elira. "Do you even know what he is, Elira? The curse on my dear brother isn't just magic. It's a seal—a lock. Keeping something far worse from waking."
Caelum's eyes widened. "She's lying."
"Am I?" Nyra's smile grew. "Ask your mother, girl. Oh wait—you can't. She died trying to keep you from learning the truth."
Elira's magic stirred, pulsing painfully in her chest. She turned to her father. "Is it true?"
The man bowed his head.
"Elira," he whispered, "the curse… it binds something ancient. Something the Hollow feared. And you—your blood—can free it or bury it forever."
Cracks began to form in the floor.
The chamber shuddered.
The cage holding her father split open as the runes dimmed.
"Elira!" Caelum yelled. "We need to get out—now!"
But before she could move, her father lunged—not at her, but at Caelum, eyes glowing unnaturally.
"I'm sorry," he said coldly, voice no longer trembling, "but the Hollow must awaken."
He drove a blade of light toward Caelum's chest—