Dawn in the Hollow Realms was not the gentle gold Elizabeth remembered from Velthra.
Here, the light bled silver, painting the trees in ghostly shades. Every leaf shimmered faintly, as though dusted with frost, though the air was warm enough to breathe out mist. Somewhere deep in the forest, a low, mournful horn sounded, echoing through the glassy sky.
They left Klara's cottage in silence.
Hardin walked ahead, his sword strapped across his back. Lucian moved beside Elizabeth, his steps almost noiseless despite the crunch of frost beneath their boots. Klara trailed behind, her bow slung over her shoulder, humming an old Hollow song that didn't quite feel comforting.
Elizabeth's mind kept circling the same thought: the letter.
The boy's eyes as he handed it to her.
The way his fingers trembled — not with fear, but as if holding back words.
She should have asked his name.
They had been walking for less than an hour when the trees began to change.
The forest here bent unnaturally, their black trunks twisted, their roots knotted into shapes like reaching hands. Thin strands of silver mist curled around the branches, whispering against Elizabeth's skin.
"This is it," Hardin said without looking back.
"The Veil of Echoes."
Elizabeth slowed. "It… feels wrong."
"It should," Lucian said. "The Veil doesn't just show what's there — it shows what you've tried to forget."
Her stomach tightened. She glanced at Hardin, but his gaze stayed forward.
They hadn't gone far before the first whisper reached her.
A woman's voice, soft, warm, achingly familiar.
Elizabeth… my star…
She froze.
"Don't stop," Hardin warned. "The Veil feeds on hesitation."
But the voice came again, clearer now, brushing against her heart like a memory she couldn't hold.
Come home…
Elizabeth's hand drifted toward the shadow swirling at her wrist. It pulsed faintly, as though answering the call.
A branch snapped behind them.
Klara whirled, arrow already nocked. "We're being followed."
Out of the mist, a small figure emerged.
Elizabeth's breath caught.
It was him — the boy from last night. His pale hair glowed faintly in the silver light, his clothes still travel-stained. He stood barefoot in the frost, unshivering.
"You shouldn't be here," she said.
His eyes met hers.
This time, there was no fear — only a strange, sharp knowing.
"They're coming," he said simply.
"Who?" Lucian asked.
The boy's gaze slid to Hardin. "The ones bound to her threads."
Elizabeth stepped forward. "Wait—what's your name?"
He opened his mouth as if to speak, but something invisible yanked him backward. His body jerked, his eyes flared white — and then he was gone, swallowed by the mist as if he'd never been there.
The silence that followed was brief.
A low, guttural snarl rolled through the trees.
Shapes moved in the mist — tall, bone-thin, their limbs bending wrong, their faces hidden behind masks of fractured glass. Shards of silver light gleamed in their chests, pulsing in time with Elizabeth's heartbeat.
"Soul-hunters," Hardin said grimly, drawing his blade. "Stay behind me."
Elizabeth's magic stirred — light in one hand, shadow in the other.
For a moment, she thought she saw the boy again, watching from the treeline. His lips moved, forming a single word she couldn't hear.
And then the Soul-hunters charged.
The Soul-hunters moved like shadows made flesh — silent, except for the snapping of frost beneath their clawed feet. The fractured glass masks caught the silver light, warping their reflections into something inhuman.
Hardin's sword sang as it left its sheath. Lucian shifted forward, dagger in each hand. Klara's bowstring creaked as she drew it back.
Elizabeth's heartbeat thundered.
The shadow mark at her wrist burned — but alongside it, the faint gold light she had seen before flickered to life in her other palm, forming a small, trembling sphere. Two forces — opposite yet bound — spiraled within her like a storm trying to tear itself apart.
The first Soul-hunter lunged.
Hardin blocked with a ringing clash, the impact shivering up his arm. Klara's arrow flew past his shoulder, embedding in another creature's glass chest — but instead of falling, the creature simply hissed, yanked the arrow free, and kept advancing.
Elizabeth's power surged without her willing it.
Shadow and light exploded outward in a ring, flinging frost and leaves into the air. The Soul-hunters recoiled — not in fear, but in recognition.
Their masks tilted toward her. The shards in their chests pulsed faster.
And then… she heard it.
Not from them, but within herself.
Daughter of the Eclipse…
The voice was neither male nor female — deep, ancient, and threaded with something like grief. It came with images that didn't belong to her.
— A woman cloaked in white fire, her hair dark as midnight.
— A man with eyes like molten gold, holding a blade of shadow.
— Both standing over a cradle… before a blinding flash of silver tore them away.
"Elizabeth!" Lucian's shout snapped her back just as a Soul-hunter's claw swiped toward her face.
Instinct answered where thought couldn't.
Her hand shot up — and the gold light in her palm burst into a shield. The claw scraped against it, sending sparks through the mist. But at the same time, the shadow mark at her wrist flared, spreading black tendrils along the shield's edge, twisting it into something darker.
The Soul-hunter screeched — not in pain, but in something like devotion.
It dropped to one knee before her.
Hardin's eyes narrowed. "Why… is it bowing?"
Elizabeth didn't know.
But deep down, she feared the answer.
The fight turned chaotic. Two Soul-hunters circled Lucian, another clashed with Hardin. Klara moved like the wind, arrows finding weak points, though not enough to kill.
Elizabeth's magic kept slipping out of her control.
Every time she struck with light, shadow threaded through it. Every time she called on shadow, a golden spark bled in. The two powers were trying to merge — and it felt… natural. Too natural.
As she deflected another blow, the ancient voice returned, softer this time:
Your blood is the key. The balance they feared. The child they hid.
Her breath caught.
Child they hid?
The flash of her parents' faces burned in her mind again — and with it, the certainty that they had not died in some ordinary tragedy. Someone had taken them. Someone had wanted her erased.
The last Soul-hunter fell under Hardin's blade. The mist thinned, leaving only the ragged sound of their breathing.
No one spoke for a long moment
Finally, Lucian looked at her. "Elizabeth… what are you?"
She couldn't answer.
Not yet. Not until she understood why those creatures had looked at her like that.
In the distance, faint footsteps echoed — light, quick, almost childlike.
Elizabeth turned toward the sound, heart pounding. Somewhere in the trees, a pale-haired boy watched… and vanished before she could call his name.