Kael carried the girl—his cousin, now grown and trembling—through the winding corridors of Black Hollow. The torches flickering on the walls weren't flames, but eerie green glows trapped in sealed jars, casting shadows that danced like ghosts on the stone.
She clung to his chest, whispering his name over and over.
Not "Kael."
But the old family name: Rhenlor.
> "Rhenlor… Rhenlor… they tried to erase us…"
He said nothing. His mind was grinding like gears, each new revelation a deeper cut.
There were more.
He thought his entire family was gone. Murdered in a single night. Buried in ash and flame. But now he understood: the massacre was only the beginning. A mask. A performance.
And the true cruelty had been hidden beneath.
---
Echoes in the Stone
They reached a collapsed stairwell, the upper floor long since fallen. Kael scanned for an alternate path and found a thin service passage half-concealed by hanging vines and cobwebs.
He drew his dagger and sliced them away. The girl followed, limping. She hadn't spoken again since the name.
As they stepped through the tight passage, she grabbed his arm suddenly.
> "He'll know. The Keeper always knows."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Who's the Keeper?"
She swallowed. "The one who names the rooms. Who holds the keys. He… he says he remembers every scream."
Kael's jaw tensed.
Not just a warden.
A monster.
---
The Room of Teeth
The narrow corridor opened into a wide stone chamber, unlike any Kael had seen. On every wall hung masks. Dozens. Hundreds. Twisted, carved, snarling, weeping—made of iron, bone, and even flesh.
In the center of the room stood a chair made of swords.
And in it, sat a man.
Or what had once been a man.
The Keeper.
Tall and bone-thin, his body wrapped in blood-colored robes, face hidden beneath a blank, toothless mask. A ring of keys jingled softly on his belt.
He did not look up.
But he spoke.
> "Kael Rhenlor. Son of Isen. Slayer of the Twelve. I wondered when you'd find your way here."
Kael stepped forward, eyes hard.
> "I'm here for my wife. For my blood. For the last names you tried to silence."
The Keeper tilted his head. "So bold. So dramatic. But you've only met whispers. I am the voice. And my voice is louder than your grief."
With one motion, he rose.
Chains erupted from the floor like snakes, clashing toward Kael and the girl.
Kael pushed her back and rolled aside, slicing one chain mid-flight. It snapped like brittle bone. Another whipped toward his neck—but he caught it with his free hand and yanked.
The Keeper stumbled.
Kael charged.
---
Battle in Silence
Their clash was not a duel. It was rage against ritual.
The Keeper wielded his chains like limbs, each strike aimed to wound, to bind, not to kill. Kael realized too late: the man didn't want death.
He wanted prisoners.
Kael flipped his dagger, caught a chain around his wrist, and used it to swing himself forward. With a savage cry, he buried the blade into the Keeper's shoulder.
The man let out a guttural hiss—but did not fall.
Instead, he laughed.
And whispered:
> "You think you've won something. But your wife… she's not the same. Not anymore."
Kael wrenched the dagger free.
> "Then I'll remind her."
With a final spin, he drove the blade upward—through the chest, out the neck. The Keeper convulsed once.
Then fell.
---
Keys and Names
Kael took the ring of keys and turned to his cousin.
She was kneeling by the wall, staring at one of the masks.
> "That one," she said softly. "She wore that one. Elira."
Kael picked it up. Heavy. Cold.
His pulse thundered.
He was close.
The next door would open.
And behind it—his reason for everything.
To be continue...