The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows against the trees as the immortals huddled around it, waiting for the next story. Kael, who had been sitting quietly, finally lifted his head, his warm brown eyes catching the firelight.
"I suppose it's my turn," he said softly, his usual kind expression momentarily darkened by the memory of a story he once heard long ago.
The others leaned in slightly, sensing the change in his tone. Kael was known for his optimism, but even he had encountered darkness on his long journey.
"This story was told to me by an old woman in a village far away," Kael began, his voice low and even. "I stayed there for a time, helping with the harvest, when the nights began to grow colder, and strange things began happening."
He paused, his eyes drifting toward the forest, as if searching for something lurking in the shadows.
"The villagers told me of a figure they called 'The Hollow Man.' They said he wandered the woods, a tall, faceless shape draped in shadow, appearing only when the veil between life and death grew thin. At first, I dismissed it as nothing more than folklore—until the night I saw him for myself."
The crackling of the fire seemed to grow louder in the silence that followed. Even Luna, who usually shifted in her sleep, lay still, sensing the somber mood.
"It was a bitterly cold night," Kael continued, "so cold that the air itself felt thick and heavy. I had gone out to gather more firewood when I felt it—a presence, watching me from the shadows. I glanced toward the treeline and saw nothing, at first. But then, there he was, standing just beyond the reach of the light."
He took a breath, the memory clearly unsettling even after centuries.
"His body was unnaturally tall and thin, almost as if it was stretched beyond what a human frame could bear. His face—or where a face should have been—was smooth, blank, a void. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. All I could do was stare."
The group sat in tense silence, feeling the weight of the story creep into the night around them. The crackling flames seemed to flicker in response to Kael's words, echoing the sense of unease growing among the immortals.
"Then," Kael continued, "he moved. Slowly, deliberately. He raised one long, spindly arm and pointed... at me. I wanted to run, but it was as if the earth itself held me in place. The stories said that anyone the Hollow Man marked would disappear within three days, never to be seen again."
Kael shifted, casting a glance at the others, their expressions reflecting a mix of intrigue and apprehension. "The next three days were the longest of my life. I barely slept, constantly checking over my shoulder. And on the third night, I woke up to the sound of scratching at the door of the small cabin where I stayed."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper, as if afraid to awaken the very specter he spoke of. "I was too afraid to open it. I sat there, waiting for the inevitable. The scratching grew louder, more insistent, until it stopped—just as the first light of dawn broke through the windows."
Kael's eyes flickered with the memory, a mixture of relief and lingering dread. "I survived. But that morning, when I stepped outside, there were footprints leading from my door to the forest, and at the edge of the woods, I saw him again, watching me from the shadows."
The fire crackled once more, filling the silence left by his words. The shadows danced around them, twisting and turning in ways that seemed almost alive. No one spoke for a long moment, the weight of the tale settling over them like a blanket of cold fog.
Finally, Eirik broke the silence with a low chuckle. "Perhaps the Hollow Man's still watching you, Kael," he said, though there was a seriousness in his eyes.
Kael only smiled softly, though his gaze lingered on the darkened treeline. "I hope not," he said. "But you never know. He could be watching any of us."
The immortals shared glances, a shared understanding passing between them. The night felt heavier, the shadows deeper.
"Maybe he's not just a story," Nyssa murmured, her fierce expression softened by the weight of the tale. "What if he's real? What if he's out there, waiting for someone to slip through the cracks?"
Elara, her silver-white hair shimmering in the firelight, added, "There's always a kernel of truth in folklore. Sometimes, the stories we tell are warnings wrapped in fear."
Kael nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. "The old woman said the Hollow Man was once a man who lost everything—his family, his home—until he became something else, something hollow. He roams the woods, seeking those who have lost their way, hoping to fill the void in his own heart. But those who encounter him often find themselves lost in return."
Lucius leaned back, folding his arms. "A haunting tale indeed, Kael. But perhaps it's more than just a cautionary story. Perhaps it's a reflection of our own fears—the dread of losing ourselves to the shadows, of becoming hollow in a world that moves on without us."
Zahara, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up. "Stories like this remind us of the fragility of life and the darkness that can seep into our souls if we let it. We must never forget that even immortals can lose their way."
The group sat in contemplative silence, each one reflecting on the story and its implications. The fire's glow flickered, casting long shadows that danced and swayed as if echoing the very essence of the tale they had just heard.
After a moment, Kael broke the silence. "In the end, the Hollow Man is a reminder to cherish what we have, to hold on tightly to the light, and to not let despair take root in our hearts. Because in the darkness, we may find ourselves becoming something we never intended to be."
His words hung in the air, resonating with the immortals as they considered their own journeys, the paths they had walked, and the shadows they had faced along the way.
Finally, Eirik stood up, breaking the somber mood. "Well, if the Hollow Man is watching, I suggest we keep our fire bright and our spirits high. No shadow can withstand the light of camaraderie."
With a nod of agreement, the group began to share lighter stories, laughter and warmth soon replacing the weight of Kael's tale. As they spoke, the shadows around them began to recede, replaced by the warmth of their shared presence and the promise of brighter nights ahead.