The forest was quiet.
Too quiet.
Dain walked alone through the trees. His boots made no sound on the soft earth. Six years of hiding had taught him how to move like a ghost. How to be invisible. How to survive.
But he wasn't hiding anymore.
Three days. That's what he'd promised Lily. Three days to meet at the borderlands watchtower.
He'd given himself two days to get there. One day early. Just in case.
Because he'd learned the hard way that "just in case" was the difference between life and death.
The morning sun filtered through the leaves above. Birds sang. A deer crossed his path, saw him, and ran. Normal forest sounds. Normal forest life.
But Dain couldn't enjoy it. Couldn't relax. Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face.
Not Lily's face. Though that haunted him too.
No. He saw Elara's face. His little sister. Twelve years old. Forever twelve.
The memory hit him like it always did. Sudden. Sharp. Merciless.
SIX YEARS AGO
The village was burning.
Dain was seventeen. Strong. Fast. Trained by the best warriors in Ironhold. He had his chains already, had awakened them two years ago. Everyone said he was a prodigy. A future hero.
Heroes saved people. That's what they did.
But Dain couldn't save his own sister.
He found her in their house. Hiding under the bed like he'd taught her. "If demons come, you hide. You stay quiet. I'll find you. Always."
She'd done everything right.
But the corruption had already touched her.
Black veins were spreading across her small hands. Her brown eyes were flickering between normal and red. Fighting so hard. Fighting with everything she had.
"Brother!" she cried when she saw him. Relief in her voice. Because big brother was here. Big brother would fix it. Big Brother always fixed things.
Dain fell to his knees beside her. His hands are shaking. His chains manifest automatically. Silver light in the darkness.
"It's okay," he lied. "It's okay, Elara. I'm here. I'm going to save you."
He tried everything. Wrapped her in chains to stop the corruption from spreading. Poured his Essence into her body. Prayed to gods he didn't believe in.
Nothing worked.
The black veins kept spreading. Up her arms. Across her neck. Toward her face.
"Brother... it hurts..." she whispered. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. "Make it stop. Please make it stop."
"I'm trying!" His voice broke. "I'm trying, Elara, just hold on."
Her eyes turned fully red.
She lunged at him. Claws that used to be fingers. A mouth that used to smile. All teeth and hunger now.
Dain's chains caught her. Bound her. Held her suspended in the air.
For one moment, one terrible moment, she was still in there. His sister. Fighting the corruption. Fighting to say something.
"Run..." she gasped. Her own voice mixed with something monstrous. "Brother... please... run..."
Then she was gone.
The creature that used to be Elara screamed. Thrashed against the chains. All humanity erased.
Dain stood there. Seventeen years old. Chains holding his corrupted sister. Unable to save her. Unable to kill her.
His mother and father were already dead. Turned in the first wave. He'd had to kill them both.
But Elara... he couldn't. He just couldn't.
His teacher, Master Roku, found him like that. Still holding Elara with his chains. Frozen. Broken.
Roku did what Dain couldn't. Made it quick. Made it clean.
Elara's body fell. Human again in death. Peaceful.
Dain didn't cry. Didn't scream. Just stared at her small body.
"I promised," he whispered. "I promised I'd always protect her."
Roku said something. Dain didn't hear it. Didn't hear anything for a long time.
That was six years ago.
Dain had stopped making promises after that day.
Until Lily.
PRESENT
Dain stopped walking. Stood in the middle of the forest. Breathing hard even though he wasn't tired.
The memory always did this. Left him hollow. Empty. Reminded him why he'd run. Why had he hidden?
Because trying to save people just meant failing them in new and horrible ways.
But he'd made a promise to Lily. And unlike six years ago, he was going to keep this one.
He had to.
He started walking again. Faster now. The borderlands were two days east. He could make it in.
Screaming.
Dain froze. His head snapped toward the sound. South. Maybe half a mile away.
Not animal screaming. Human. Multiple voices. Terror and pain mixed.
Another village under attack.
Dain's jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists. The chains flickered around his wrists. Silver light hungry for violence.
Not your problem, he told himself. Keep walking. Get to the watchtower. Keep your promise to Lily.
The screaming got louder.
Children are screaming now.
Dain closed his eyes. Took a breath. Made a decision he knew he'd regret.
He ran toward the screaming.
VILLAGE OF EMBER'S REST
The village was smaller than Ashvale. Maybe a hundred people. Farmers and shepherds. Simple folk living simple lives.
Now they were dying.
Hollows. Dozens of them. Running through the streets. Attacking anyone they could reach. Tearing. Biting. Killing.
But something was different this time.
Someone was fighting back.
Dain crouched on a rooftop overlooking the village square. Watching. Analyzing.
A figure moved through the Hollows like fire through dry grass. Fast. Graceful. Deadly.
A girl. No, a young woman. Maybe nineteen. Long red hair tied in a warrior's braid. Armor that was blue and gold. Beautiful but practical. Built for movement.
She held twin daggers. Each blade burned with azure flames. Not a normal fire. Something purer. Cleaner. Almost holy.
As Dain watched, she spun between two Hollows. Her daggers flashed. The Hollows' heads came off.
But instead of just dying, their bodies BURNED. The corruption dissolved away. Like it was being erased from existence.
The woman kept moving. Never stopped. Never hesitated. She was a dancer. A warrior. A force of nature.
She saved a child from a Hollow's claws. Burned the creature away. Pushed the child toward the others. "GO! Get to the church! NOW!"
Her voice was strong. Commanding. Used to being obeyed.
But Dain could see what she couldn't. What was her focus on saving people blinded her to.
There were too many Hollows. Forty at least. And they were coordinating. Surrounding her. Cutting off escape routes.
She was good. Maybe even great.
But she was going to die.
Dain should leave. Should let natural selection do its work. Stupid people who fought alone deserved what happened to them.
That's what he told himself.
But he kept watching. Kept noticing things.
Her flames didn't just kill Hollows. They PURIFIED them. Burned away corruption like it was a disease.
Cleansing Fire. Incredibly rare. Only seen in old bloodlines. Royal bloodlines.
If she could purify corruption... maybe she could help him save Elara.
That's what he told himself. That's the reason he gave for what happened next.
It wasn't because he couldn't watch another person die. It wasn't because her desperate courage reminded him of who he used to be.
It was pure selfishness. Pure calculation.
That's what he told himself.
The woman killed three more Hollows. But she was slowing down. Breathing hard. Sweat on her face. Blood on her armor, not all of it from Hollows.
Twenty Hollows left. All closing in. All moving together now.
She raised her daggers. Flames blazing brighter. Ready to die fighting.
"Well," she said to the Hollows. Her voice was steady, even though her hands shook. "Come on then. Let's see how many of you I can take with me."
The Hollows charged.
Silver light exploded from the rooftop.
Chains, beautiful, terrible chains of silver. Essence, shot down like lightning. They wrapped around five Hollows at once. Squeezed. Crushed. The creatures' bodies shattered.
The woman spun around. Eyes wide. "What"
Dain dropped from the roof. Landed in the square. His chains multiplied. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Moving independently. Each one is a weapon. Each one's death.
He didn't look at the woman. Didn't speak. Just fought.
A Hollow lunged at his back. A chain whipped around and punched through its chest. Lifted it into the air. Slammed it into the ground so hard the stones cracked.
Three more charged from different directions. Three chains shot out. Wrapped around their necks. Pulled in different directions. Heads came off.
The remaining Hollows hesitated. These creatures had no fear. No self-preservation. But something in Dain's silver eyes made them pause.
It didn't matter.
Dain's chains swept through them like a scythe through wheat. Binding. Breaking. Killing. Methodical. Efficient. Merciless.
In less than a minute, fifteen Hollows lay dead.
The woman stood there. Staring at him. Her azure flames still burning around her daggers. Her chest heaving. Her eyes were full of questions.
Dain's chains retracted. Dissolved back into silver light. Then disappeared.
He turned to leave without a word.
"Wait!" the woman called. She ran toward him. "Who are you? Why didn't you help sooner?!"
Dain stopped. Didn't turn around. "You're welcome."
"I didn't need your help!"
Now he turned. Looked at her. Really looked at her for the first time.
She was beautiful. That was undeniable. Red hair that caught the sunlight. Green eyes that burned with intensity. A face that was both fierce and kind at the same time.
But what struck him was her stance. The way she held her daggers. The way her feet were positioned.
Perfect form. Perfect technique. Textbook warrior posture.
And completely useless in real combat.
"You were about to die," Dain said flatly.
Her face flushed red. Anger or embarrassment, he couldn't tell. "I had it under control!"
"You were surrounded. Outnumbered three to one. Exhausted. Wounded. You had maybe thirty seconds left before they tore you apart."
"I've been fighting these things for three weeks!" She stepped closer. Eyes flashing. "I've saved six villages! Killed hundreds of Hollows! Who are you to"
"Someone who's been doing this longer than three weeks." Dain's voice was cold. Final. "You fight like someone who learned from books. From teachers in a safe training yard. Your form is perfect. Your instincts are terrible."
The woman's jaw dropped. "How dare you?"
"You committed too early on that last attack. Left your right side open for two full seconds. Against skilled opponents, you'd be dead. You waste movement trying to look graceful. You prioritize saving civilians over tactical positioning. Noble. Stupid. Will get you killed."
Each word hit her like a slap. Her hands clenched on her daggers. "I'm trying to HELP people!"
"Trying gets people killed. Results matter. Dead heroes save no one."
"So, what, I should just abandon them?! Let them die?!"
"No. You should get better. Strong enough that you don't have to choose between saving people and staying alive." Dain turned to leave again. "But that takes time. Time you won't have if you keep fighting alone against impossible odds."
"Then teach me."
Dain stopped. That surprised him. He looked back at her.
She'd lowered her daggers. Her eyes were still angry. Still proud. But there was something else there now. Desperation. Need.
"Teach me," she repeated. "You're clearly better than me. You see things I can't. So, teach me how to fight properly."
"No."
"Why not?!"
"Because I'm not a teacher. I'm not a hero. I'm just trying to survive. And teaching you means caring if you live or die. I'm done caring."
He started walking away. For real this time. No more talking. No more delays.
Behind him, the woman's voice rang out. "COWARD!"
Dain froze. His whole body went rigid. That word. That specific word.
He turned slowly. His silver eyes were ice. "What did you call me?"
She didn't back down. Didn't flinch. "Coward. You're strong enough to help people. To make a difference. But you're running away. Hiding. That makes you a coward."
"You don't know anything about me."
"I know you have power. I know you could save lives. And I know you're choosing not to. That's all I need to know."
Dain's chains flickered around his wrists. Just for a moment. Pure instinct. Pure anger.
The woman saw it. Raised her daggers. Flames blazing brighter. Ready to fight him if she had to.
They stood there. Twenty feet apart. Two warriors. Two damaged people. Both too proud to back down.
Then a voice interrupted. Old. Shaking. Afraid.
"Princess Nira?"
Both Dain and the woman, Nira, turned.
An old man stood at the edge of the square. The village elder. His clothes were torn. Blood on his face. But he was alive.
He was staring at Nira with wide eyes. Shock and awe, and fear mixed.
"Princess Nira," he repeated. He fell to one knee. Bowed his head. "We didn't know you would come. We didn't, the capital said, we thought"
"Stand up," Nira said quietly. Her whole demeanor changed. The fire in her eyes dimmed. Something else took its place. Sadness. Guilt. "Please. Stand up. You don't need to bow."
But the old man stayed kneeling. "Your Highness saved our village. Saved our lives. We are forever in your debt."
Dain's eyes narrowed. He looked at Nira with new understanding. New suspicion.
"Princess?" he said. The word tasted bitter. "You're royalty?"
Nira didn't look at him. Kept her eyes on the elder. "Get the survivors to safety. Tend to the wounded. More Hollows might come."
"Yes, Your Highness. Of course." The elder stood. Bowed again. Hurried away, calling for others.
Dain and Nira were alone again in the square. Bodies of Hollows scattered around them like broken toys.
"Princess," Dain repeated. His voice was flat. Empty. "A princess playing hero. This just keeps getting better."
Now Nira looked at him. Her eyes were fierce again. Defensive. "I'm not PLAYING anything!"
"Sure, you are. Rich girl bored with palace life. Decides to go adventuring. Fights some monsters. Feels good about herself. Then runs home when things get too hard."
"You don't know anything about me!" Her voice cracked. Just slightly. Just enough to show he'd hit something true.
"I know you've been out here for three weeks. I know you're from Ironhold. I know you have Cleansing Fire, which is a royal bloodline. I know you're playing at being a warrior while real warriors die because they don't have the luxury of quitting."
Nira's face went white. Then red. Her hands shook on her daggers. "My sister died four years ago. Right in front of me. In the palace. In her bed. From an illness I couldn't cure because I was USELESS. Just a pretty princess who smiled and waved and did NOTHING that mattered."
Her voice was getting louder. Angrier. More desperate.
"I trained every day for four years. Learned to fight. Learned to use my fire. Became the best swordsman in the capital. But my father wouldn't let me fight. Wouldn't let me leave. Kept me locked in the palace like a bird in a golden cage. Said it was too dangerous. Said princesses don't belong on battlefields."
Tears were forming in her eyes. She didn't wipe them away.
"Three weeks ago, I left. Snuck out. Ran away. Because I couldn't spend one more day being useless while people died. While demons spread corruption. While the world burned and I sat in my comfortable room pretending I didn't hear the screaming."
She stepped toward him. Close now. Close enough that he could see the scars on her hands. The calluses from weapon training. The burns from pushing her fire too hard.
"I'm not playing hero," she said quietly. Intensely. "I'm trying to BE one. Because someone has to. And if it can't be the princess with royal training and powerful flames, then who? Who else is going to stand between monsters and innocent people?"
Silence.
Dain looked at her. Really looked at her this time. Past the pride. Past the anger. Past the beauty.
He saw someone haunted. Someone running from guilt. Someone trying desperately to matter.
He saw himself. Six years ago. Before everything broke.
"Your father doesn't know you're gone," he said. Not a question. A statement.
"No."
"He's probably searching for you. The entire army is looking for the missing princess."
"Let them look."
"You're going to get killed out here. You know that, right? You're skilled. Talented even. But you're not ready for real war. Not ready for what's coming."
Nira lifted her chin. Defiant. "Then I'll learn."
"Learning takes time. You don't have time."
"Then I'll learn fast."
Dain wanted to argue. Wanted to walk away. Wanted to tell this stubborn, impossible, infuriating princess that she was wrong. That wanting to be a hero wasn't enough. Good intentions paved roads to graveyards.
But he remembered Lily's face. Remembered his promise. Remembered his declaration of war against Vorath.
"I'm not coming alone. I'm going to find others."
And here was someone with power. Someone with Cleansing Fire that could purify corruption. Someone who might, just might, be able to help him save Elara.
If she survived long enough to matter.
"I'm heading to the borderlands," Dain said finally. "Taking survivors there. After that, I'm going south."
"South?" Nira's eyes widened. "That's Scorched Reach. That's demon territory. Why would you"
"My reasons. None of your business."
"I'm going to the borderlands, too. Taking these people to safety. Then back to Ironhold to warn my father about the Hollow attacks."
"Then we're going the same direction. For now."
Understanding dawned in her eyes. "You want me to come with you."
"I'm not stopping you from following me. Big difference."
"But you're not sending me away."
"You'll just follow anyway. Stubborn people always do." Dain turned and started walking toward where the villagers were gathering. "Keep up or don't. I'm not waiting for you."
Nira smiled. Small. Victorious. "You're not as cold as you pretend to be."
"Yes, I am."
"No. Cold people don't save strangers. Don't advise people they claim not to care about."
"I'm just using you. Your Cleansing Fire might be useful."
"Sure. Keep telling yourself that." She jogged to catch up with him. Walked beside him. "I'm Nira, by the way. Princess Nira Vaelith of House Ironhold. Though I guess you figured that out."
"Dain."
"Just Dain?"
"Just Dain."
"No family name? No title?"
"Had both once. Don't anymore."
They walked in silence for a moment. Nira kept glancing at him. Curiosity burned in her eyes. Questions she wanted to ask but didn't.
Finally: "Your chains. What kind of Essence is that? I've never seen anything like them."
"Old bloodline. Rare."
"Are you from Ironhold?"
"Was. A long time ago."
"What happened?"
"Nothing you need to know about."
"You're not very talkative."
"No."
"That's going to make traveling together really fun."
Dain almost smiled. Almost. "You talk enough for both of us."
"Someone has to. Otherwise, it's just awkward silence and brooding."
"I like awkward silence and brooding."
"Well, too bad. You're stuck with me now."
They reached the village center. Survivors were gathering. Maybe sixty people. More than Dain expected. Nira had saved most of them.
The elder approached. Bowed to Nira again. "Your Highness. The village is secure. We've checked every house. No more Hollows. But..." He hesitated.
"But what?" Nira asked.
"One of the demons we captured... before it died... it said something."
Dain's eyes narrowed. "What did it say?"
The elder looked uncomfortable. "It said a Commander is coming. Someone called Thresh. And that he's specifically hunting for..." He looked at Nira. "Hunting for the princess."
Silence.
Dain looked at Nira. Her face had gone pale. "Thresh? Are you sure it said Thresh?"
"Yes, Your Highness. You know him?"
"I..." Nira's voice was barely a whisper. "Thresh was... he was the Captain of the Border Guard. He protected these lands for twenty years. He taught me how to fight when I was younger. He was..." Her hands were shaking. "He disappeared six months ago. Everyone thought he was dead."
Dain's jaw clenched. He understood now. Understood why Vorath specifically wanted her.
"He's not dead," Dain said quietly. "He's worse. Vorath turned him. Made him a Commander. And now he's hunting you."
Nira looked at him. Terror in her eyes. "But why? Why would Vorath want me specifically?"
"Because you're a princess with Cleansing Fire. You're a symbol. Kill you, and Ironhold loses hope. Corrupt you, and they lose even more." Dain started organizing the survivors. "We need to move. Now. If Thresh is coming, we don't want to be here when he arrives."
"But these people, they're exhausted. Wounded. They can't"
"Then they die here, or they die moving. Pick one."
Nira's fire flared in her eyes again. "We're not leaving anyone behind."
"Then you carry the ones who can't walk."
"Fine. I will."
They glared at each other. Two stubborn people refusing to back down.
Then a scream cut through the tension.
From the south. From the forest. Getting closer.
Everyone froze. Listened.
Footsteps. Heavy. Slow. Methodical.
And a voice. Deep. Wrong. Like two voices speaking at once.
"Princess Nira of Ironhold... I have come for you..."
The temperature dropped. Frost formed on the windows. Breath became visible in the air.
Dain's chains manifested. Silver light wrapped around his arms. "Get the survivors behind us. Now."
Nira raised her daggers. Flames blazing. "That voice... no. No, it can't be."
"It is. And he's here."
From the southern edge of the village, a figure emerged.
Massive. Seven feet tall. Wearing black armor made from bones. Carrying a war-axe that dripped with corruption.
His face was half-human. Half-Hollow. One green eye. One red eye. Both were looking at Nira with hunger and sorrow mixed.
"Hello, Princess," Thresh said. His voice was split. Humans and monsters speak together. "It's been a long time."
Nira's daggers fell from her hands. Clattered on the ground. She stared at the creature. At her former teacher. At the man who'd shown her how to be strong.
"Captain Thresh..." she whispered. "What did they do to you?"
Thresh smiled. It was horrible. Half his mouth was human. Half was full of fangs.
"They gave me power, Princess. Evolution. And now... I'm sorry... but Lord Vorath wants you alive."
His red eye glowed brighter.
"The rest... I'm sorry... I can't stop it... run... please..."
Then his Hollow side surged. His voice became pure monster. Pure hunger.
"BRING ME THE PRINCESS!"
Thresh charged.
And hell came with him.