The last of the mirror's whispers still clung to Kael's thoughts as they pressed into the new passage. The air reeked of char and damp stone, each breath heavy with smoke that seemed to rise from nowhere. Runes clawed along the walls, their glow weaker now, flickering like dying embers.
Rayne kept her dagger drawn, its flame burning steady in her grip. Kael carried Veindrinker, the sword's runes dulled after the battle with his reflection, yet pulsing as though recovering. His chest ached where the reflection had cut him, but more than the pain gnawed at him. The mark pulsed with a deeper rhythm, hungry, restless, as though it demanded something he could not name.
The tunnel curved then split into three, at the center of the fork lay an altar of cracked stone. Upon it rested a blackened crown, its edges scorched, its once golden frame covered in ash.
Rayne froze. "Another relic."
Kael felt the mark burn in answer, heat racing from his chest into his throat. He staggered, catching himself on the altar. For an instant his vision blurred and he smelled not ash but blood, thick, warm, metallic. The world seemed sharper, the sound of Rayne's heartbeat loud in his ears, her pulse quick and steady like a drum. He clenched his teeth, forcing the sensation away, horrified at how natural it felt.
Rayne's eyes narrowed as she studied him. "You faltered."
"I'm fine." His voice came across rough, unconvincing. He pushed from the altar, but the mark flared again. This time his fangs lengthened, though not fully, not yet, but sharp enough for him to feel their edge scrape against his lip. He turned his face from her before she could see.
Rayne stepped closer, suspicion dark in her gaze. "Your mark isn't just a brand. It's changing you."
Kael gripped Veindrinker tighter, his knuckles white. He had no answer for her, not yet at least.
From the left passage came a whisper, faint and dragging:
"Oathbreakers burn in ash, but heirs rise in blood."
The crown on the altar rattled scattering soot across the stone.
Kael forced himself to breathe steady. "We keep moving. Standing here gives it power."
Rayne didn't argue, though her glance lingered on him longer than before. She sheathed her dagger but did not dim its flame, keeping her fire ready.
They chose the middle passage. The air thickened with smoke until each step carried them into a haze of shifting ash. Shadows stirred within the cloud, forming vague shapes of knights kneeling, queens screaming, lines of chained men dragged towards burning pyres.
Rayne lifted her hand, fire burning hotter to cut through the haze. "Illusions."
Kael reached for one of the shapes, his fingers brushing against ash that felt too real. The vision collapsed at his touch, but his mark responded burning hotter, and in its glow he saw another image. An image of himself, seated on a throne of bone, Rayne at his feet, her wrist chained, her fire dimmed.
He recoiled, bile rising to his throat.
Rayne caught the motion and frowned. "What did you see?"
He forced his voice steady. "Nothing worth speaking of."
But inside, he felt the weight of the truth pressing harder. The bloodline was stirring, something suppressed was breaking free. What it was he couldn't tell but with every step he took further into the Vale, the hunger he felt grew harder to deny.
The passage narrowed until Kael's shoulders brushed stone. Ash streaked the walls, pulsing faintly like veins.
A scrape cut through the silence. Chains. Slow, dragging, and getting closer with every drag.
Rayne shifted ahead of him, one dagger drawn, the other hand alive with fire. "We're not alone."
Figures stirred in the haze. Bent armor, faces hidden beneath cracked helms. They knelt in rows against the walls as if waiting for a command that never came.
The mark on Kael's chest seared, he staggered, bracing against the wall to catch himself.
One of the warriors lifted its head, empty sockets burned with cinders. It's voice dry and hollow like dust. "Blood of the Hollow. The vow holds."
Kael's stomach lurched. His jaw ached as sharp pain cut into his teeth. The taste of iron spread across his tongue. He turned his face away but Rayne's eyes caught the movement.
"What was that?" Her tone was low and edgy.
"Nothing." The lie felt heavy.
Chains rattled. More shapes moved, ash sloughing off their armor as they dragged themselves upright. Their voices rose together.
"Kneel. Kneel. Kneel."
Kael's knees buckled. A memory pressed in, the cool weight of his mother's hand on his brow, her voice a hurried whisper laced with evident fear. "Do not let your father see. Promise me, Kael."
He had thought she feared weakness. But standing here, in this moment, with the Oathbound closing in, he knew it had been something else.
Rayne stepped into the ash, fire flaring her palm. "Then let them choke on their vow."
Kael lifted his blade, the mark on his chest burning harder. The passage filled with ash and the clash of chains as the Oathbound surged forward.
Ash filled the passage, thick enough to sting Kael's throat. Shadows broke free from the walls, the knights of the Oathbound, their armor caked with soot, their chains rattling like war drums.
The first swung a rusted sword. Rayne moved before Kael could, fire sparking across her arm as her dagger clashed against steel. Flame seared through the revenant, but the ash closed back around it, holding its form.
"They won't stay down," she spat, shoving it back. "The vow keeps them standing."
Kael slashed another, Veindrinker cutting through its chest. The figure shattered in a burst of dust, yet as it crumbled, the voice followed him. "You are bound. You are blood."
He staggered, ears ringing. For a heartbeat he saw them all kneeling in rows before him, as if the chains dragged them to him. His hands shook, the mark on his chest burning like an open wound.
"Kael!" Rayne's voice snapped him back. A revenant's chain whipped towards her head. Kael lunged, his blade intercepting it with a crack that rattled the stone. The force drove him to his knees, but he held under the weight.
Rayne dropped low, her fire blooming outward, scorching three phantoms back. "What are they after?"
Kael didn't answer, he couldn't. The whispers clawed too close. Blood of the Hollow. Kneel, wear the crown, rule as he did.
His teeth cut his lips. He tasted blood again, rich, sweet, different. For a terrible moment, the hunger inside him sharpened, pulling at him to drink, to claim. He forced it down, shoving the revenant's chain aside with a surge of strength that startled even him
More warriors rose. Ten. Twenty. The passage grew tight with their forms, their chains clanging bells of judgement. Rayne's fire burned brighter, her body a shield between him and the tide.
"Fall back!" She snapped. "We can't hold then here."
Kael hesitated, fighting another down with a strike that split its helmet. Ash scattered but the whisper stayed. "You cannot flee yourself."
His vision swam. The walls seemed to pulse. For a breath, he saw his mother again, kneeling beside his bed, pressing the bitter draught to his lips. Her eyes had been wet, her hand trembling as she whispered. "Do not let him know,Kael. Do not let the king see you."
He never understood. Now he did. She had been hiding him not from the fevers..... but from this.
A revenant's blade slashed across his arm, sparks tearing into his sleeve. Kael swung Veindrinker in a wide arc, cutting two down in a burst of red light. The sword pulsed in his grip, hungrier than ever.
Rayne's flame surged, sealing the passage wall behind them in a curtain of fire. "Move!"
Together they forced their way forward, pushing through the storm of ash. Revenants fell and reformed, but the fire held them back just enough. Chains lashed, steel clashed, whispers roared. Kael fought as though the mark itself fueled him, every strike edged with desperation.
At last, the passage widened into a faint light ahead. Wind stirred and, for the first time since they stepped into the Vale, they got their first breath of open air.
They stumbled towards it, the Oathbound howling in the firestorm behind them. The whispers still clung to Kael's ears, promising crowns, blood, and chains.
Rayne glanced at him, her face tight with suspicion, her dagger still still dripping ash. "You're hiding something."
Kael's throat closed around the truth. He said nothing.
The passage gave way to the surface. The cold night air cut across his face, sharp and clean. For a moment, it felt like escape.
But the whispers followed.
Blood of the Hollow. You are ours.