Chapter Sixty-Six: Whispers Beyond the Hollow
The word spread like smoke. First among merchants on the winter roads, then to border guards, then through taverns and halls. By the time snow had thickened across the valleys, every ear in the surrounding realms had heard the same whisper:
Ebon Hollow has declared itself a kingdom.
The Border Villages
In the hamlet of Droswen, a cluster of thatch and timber pressed against the kingdom's northern forest, the inn was loud with rumor. Farmers, hunters, and woodcutters sat hunched over mugs of ale, voices tense.
"They're saying the Hollow has a king now." One man spat into the fire. "A monster king."
"Aye, and not just monsters. Heard they've got humans with them. Farmers, even children."
That made the room fall quiet. The notion twisted in their heads. Some frowned, some looked unsettled, some skeptical.
A woman leaned forward, eyes sharp. "You think it matters if they got children? Monsters are monsters. Don't take long before they show their teeth."
"But they beat the bandits, didn't they?" a younger voice asked. "Slaughtered the lot. Maybe better them than scum like that running loose."
The innkeeper's voice cut through the noise. "Better we keep our heads down. The last thing we need is kings and lords turning our village into a battleground because of them."
The others muttered in agreement. Fear, not loyalty, won the night.
The Human Kingdom of Velros
In the capital of Velros, stone walls gleamed white with frost. Inside the royal hall, banners of crimson and gold hung heavy. King Aldric, a man with broad shoulders and a beard streaked with gray, sat at the high table. His lords and generals argued at his feet.
"They've set themselves up as a kingdom," one lord sneered, his jeweled rings flashing as he gestured. "A kingdom of beasts and witches. This cannot be allowed."
Another lord countered, his tone sharper. "And if we march on them? If we provoke them? They've already shown strength. They felled the overlords, they broke a bandit host, and now they're uniting. Do you want that fury aimed at us?"
General Corwin, scarred and iron-voiced, stepped forward. "We should watch. Let them grow. Then, when the time is right, crush them before they grow too strong."
King Aldric listened in silence, his eyes fixed on the flicker of torchlight. Finally, he spoke.
"Ebon Hollow is not like the others. They are not mere beasts. They build. They govern. That makes them dangerous." He tapped the arm of his throne. "But it also makes them… useful. A strong wall between us and the wilds."
The court shifted uneasily.
"We will not attack. Not yet," Aldric said, voice firm. "Send spies. Send merchants. Let us learn what manner of king this Kael truly is."
The Elven Settlements of Nareth Woods
Deep in the Nareth Woods, the council of the Moon-Born Elves sat in their living halls woven from branches and silver-thread vines. Elder Sevariel, face lined like bark, spoke with weariness.
"The balance trembles. Ebon Hollow has claimed dominion. Already their shadows touch the edges of our groves."
A younger elf, fire in her voice, snapped back. "Perhaps this is balance restored. Have we not suffered raids? The overlords destroyed our kin. If this Kael and his people ended them, perhaps they are allies we should not spurn."
"Or perhaps," another elder countered, "they will come for us next. Power hungers. And monsters are monsters, no matter their crowns."
The chamber erupted into discord, voices overlapping in a storm of mistrust and curiosity. In the end, Sevariel lifted his hand.
"We will not move against them… not until we know if they will move against us."
But in his eyes lingered doubt.
The Dwarven Stronghold of Krovemir
Beneath the mountains, in the firelit halls of Krovemir, dwarves raised mugs of mead as word reached their ears.
"Hah! Monsters with a kingdom!" one laughed, slamming his mug on the stone table. "Next you'll tell me wolves'll be running taverns!"
But Master Forgemaster Dorn, his beard singed from years at the forge, frowned. "Mock all you want, but word is they've found iron in the caverns. Fine ore, rich veins. Monsters or not, if they're mining, they'll be trading soon. And if they're trading…" His eyes glimmered. "Then we should be the first at their gates."
The room buzzed with talk — not of fear, but of opportunity. Dwarves, ever practical, saw gold before danger.
The Villages of the Free Folk
In the swamplands, in small fishing villages clinging to the edges of the world, whispers spread. Some spoke of salvation, of a place where cast-outs and wanderers might find shelter. Others scoffed, saying only death awaited those who trusted beasts.
But the whispers grew, and with them, a trickle of people began their slow journeys toward the forest. Hope, fragile but real, had taken root.
The Closing Rumor
And so, across kingdoms and clans, from royal halls to smoky taverns, from hidden groves to frozen peaks, the words spread again and again:
Ebon Hollow.
A kingdom of monsters.
A king born of shadow and fire.
No one yet knew if it would be salvation or doom. But no one could ignore it.