The night had become unnaturally silent.
Kael stood at the edge of a dead forest, his sword glowing faintly in the darkness. The trees around him were twisted and pale, their branches hanging like skeletal fingers. No birds sang. No insects moved. Even the wind seemed afraid to breathe.
Then it came.
A hollow whisper drifted through the woods, soft at first, then louder with every step he took. It was not a voice. It was many voices, layered together in a low, trembling murmur.
"Turn back…"
Kael tightened his grip on the sword and kept walking.
The deeper he moved into the forest, the colder the air became. Frost spread beneath his boots, and a strange silver mist curled around the roots of the trees. In the distance, pale figures appeared between the trunks, watching him without eyes.
He stopped.
One of them stepped forward.
Its body was thin and broken, wrapped in torn shadows. Its face was smooth and empty, but from the hollow space where its mouth should have been came the same whispering sound.
"You carry the fire," it said.
Kael raised his blade. "Who are you?"
The creature tilted its head. "We are what remains."
In an instant, the mist surged.
The pale figures rushed from the darkness, gliding across the frozen ground without sound. Kael swung his sword in a wide arc, and blue fire exploded through the forest. The first wave of spirits shattered like glass, but more emerged behind them.
They were endless.
Kael fought with fierce determination, each strike lighting the trees with flashes of blue and silver. But these were not ordinary enemies. They did not bleed. They did not scream. They only whispered.
And their whispers were becoming words he knew.
His mother's voice.
His father's voice.
Even his own.
Kael faltered for a single second, and one of the spirits seized his arm. Ice spread instantly across his skin, burning deeper than any flame. He roared and drove his sword through its chest, sending it scattering into smoke.
Breathing heavily, he backed away.
Then the forest floor trembled.
From beneath the roots of the oldest tree, something larger rose into the mist. A towering shape of bone and shadow, crowned with antlers of black crystal. Empty eyes burned with pale light as it looked down at Kael.
"The Hollow King," Kael whispered.
The creature opened its arms, and the entire forest answered with a thousand voices.
Kael stepped forward, sword blazing.
"Then come," he said.
And the dead forest woke.