Alden ran, his heartbeat thundering in his ears, the streets of Eldoria blurring around him. The stranger moved ahead, guiding him through narrow alleyways and hidden paths, their steps swift and certain. Behind them, the Order of the Hollow pursued, their presence thick in the mist, their shadows stretching unnaturally along the cobbled ground.
The Book of Shadows burned in Alden's arms, its weight unnatural, as if it were something more than just an object—something alive. He could still feel the lingering energy in his veins, the raw power that had surged from him just moments before. He had no idea how he had done it, but he knew one thing for certain: he had barely scratched the surface of what the Mark had awakened inside him.
A shriek tore through the mist—a sound neither human nor beast. Alden dared a glance over his shoulder and saw something move within the fog, something tall and twisted, its form shifting as if it were made of liquid shadow.
The Order wasn't just sending their followers.
They had sent something else.
Alden's breath caught. "What is that?"
The stranger didn't slow. "A Hollowborn."
The name sent a chill through him. He had never heard it before, but his bones knew it. Some old part of him, buried deep, recognized the wrongness of the thing moving in the mist.
Alden forced his legs to move faster.
They rounded a sharp corner, and suddenly, the road ahead opened into the town's eastern gate—an ancient archway that led into the dense, endless Silverwood beyond. The trees loomed like silent sentinels, their silver-tinged leaves rustling as if whispering secrets to one another.
But the gate was closed.
A heavy iron chain locked the doors shut, a barrier meant to keep whatever lurked beyond from entering. Eldoria had always been a town sealed away, a place where the outside world was nothing more than myth.
Alden skidded to a stop. "It's locked!"
The stranger turned, raising a hand toward the gate. The moment they did, the air behind them darkened—the mist coiling violently as the Hollowborn emerged.
It wasn't human.
Its form was constantly shifting, its body wrapped in swirling black tendrils, its face obscured except for two hollowed-out eyes that glowed faintly, like embers in a dying fire. The sight of it sent a primal terror through Alden's body—something deeper than fear, something written into the very fabric of his soul.
It raised an elongated hand, its fingers stretching like liquid shadow, and the air itself seemed to bend in response.
The stranger barely hesitated. Their silver eyes burned as they threw a hand forward, sending a burst of shimmering energy toward the iron gate. The metal groaned, shuddering under the force, and then—
It shattered.
The chains snapped apart as if struck by an unseen force, the wooden doors swinging open violently. The Silverwood loomed ahead, vast and waiting.
"Go!" the stranger commanded.
Alden turned to run—
But the Hollowborn moved.
It surged forward, impossibly fast, its form twisting and unraveling like smoke. Its outstretched fingers clawed through the air, reaching for Alden—
And then the Book reacted.
The pulse of energy came without warning, a golden surge of raw power that exploded outward. Alden felt it move through him, a force not entirely his own. The Hollowborn shrieked as it collided with the barrier of light, its body twisting violently as the energy seared through it.
The stranger's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
Alden didn't wait to understand what had just happened.
He turned and sprinted through the open gate, plunging into the Silverwood.
The trees swallowed them whole, their branches closing overhead like outstretched hands. The moment they crossed the threshold, the air changed. The mist of Eldoria faded behind them, replaced by something deeper, something heavier.
The forest was alive.
The whispering of leaves grew louder, forming words Alden couldn't quite understand. The ground beneath him pulsed faintly, almost as if it were breathing. The Silverwood was nothing like the quiet forests he had known—this was something ancient, something untouched by time.
He ran until his lungs burned, until the glow of Eldoria's lanterns faded entirely behind them. Only then did the stranger stop, holding up a hand.
Alden doubled over, gasping for breath. "Did… did we lose them?"
The stranger didn't answer immediately. They turned, scanning the darkness, listening. Only the sound of the wind moving through the branches filled the silence. The Hollowborn had not followed.
Not yet.
The stranger finally exhaled, lowering their hand. "For now."
Alden straightened, still trying to catch his breath. "Where are we going?"
The stranger's gaze flickered toward him, their silver eyes thoughtful. "To the only place where the heir of the Arcane Throne can truly begin."
Alden felt the weight of the Book still in his grasp.
His journey had only just begun.
And somewhere, deep in the shadows, the Hollowborn stirred.
It was not finished with him. Not yet.