Part 1: The Trial's Illusion
Flames roared around Sylvaen, licking the sky with hues of crimson and gold. The heat pressed against her skin, but she did not burn. The ground beneath her feet was cracked and charred, the scent of smoke thick in the air.
She knew this place.
She had spent her childhood here—before the Hollow Chorus had come, before the shadows had swallowed her world.
The village of Aedryn.
A place that no longer existed.
And yet, here it was, frozen in time.
Sylvaen turned, her heart hammering. This wasn't real. It couldn't be.
And then she saw him.
Standing in the flames, untouched by the fire, was her brother.
Talon.
His silver eyes, so much like her own, held a mixture of emotions she could not decipher. Pain. Anger. A silent question.
"Why did you leave me?"
His voice cut through the roar of the fire, soft yet piercing. It struck something deep inside her, something she had buried long ago.
Sylvaen staggered back, shaking her head. "This… this isn't real. You're not real."
Talon took a step forward. "Aren't I?"
The flames around them flickered, twisting into shapes—memories.
She saw herself as a child, running through the village streets, her brother always just a step behind. They had been inseparable, two halves of a whole.
But then the Hollow Chorus came.
The sky had cracked open, darkness pouring forth like liquid night. The screams had filled the air, drowning out everything else. Sylvaen had run, clutching the Skyshard, its power urging her forward.
But Talon—
She had left him behind.
Her breath hitched. "I… I didn't mean to. I thought you—"
"You thought I was dead," Talon finished. His voice was quiet, but there was something beneath it, something sharp.
Sylvaen's hands clenched into fists. "I didn't have a choice!"
Talon's expression didn't change. "Didn't you?"
The world shook, the flames twisting higher. The figures in the fire shifted, becoming shadowed forms—the Hollow Chorus. They loomed around her, whispering, their voices merging into a single, chilling sound.
"You abandoned him."
"You left him to the dark."
"And now he belongs to us."
Sylvaen's breath caught in her throat. "What—what do you mean?"
Talon took another step forward. His silver eyes darkened.
"You think the Hollow Chorus destroyed me," he said. "But they didn't."
The fire around them exploded outward, revealing something that made Sylvaen's blood run cold.
Behind Talon, standing in the swirling flames, was a figure cloaked in shadowed energy.
A warrior of the Hollow Chorus.
His armor pulsed with dark veins of power, his presence heavy with the same energy she had fought against time and time again.
And then he stepped forward, revealing his face.
Talon.
But not the Talon she remembered.
His skin was paler, almost luminescent in the firelight. Shadows curled around his fingertips, moving like living creatures. And his eyes—his once-bright silver eyes—were now tinged with black mist.
Sylvaen felt the world sway beneath her feet.
"No," she whispered. "No, that's not—"
Talon tilted his head, watching her carefully. "You don't understand, do you?"
Sylvaen's breath came in short gasps. "They—they took you?"
A small, bitter smile touched his lips. "No, Sylvaen." He stepped closer, the shadows wrapping around him like a second skin.
"I chose them."
The world shattered around her.
Part 2: The Weight of the Past
Sylvaen fell to her knees, the fire around her dimming to smoldering embers.
No. It couldn't be true.
Talon had always been the light—the one who believed in things, even when the world fell apart. He had been her strength when she had none.
He would never choose the Hollow Chorus.
Would he?
She looked up, her vision blurred. "Why? Why would you do this?"
Talon studied her, his expression unreadable. "You don't understand the Hollow Chorus, Sylvaen. You think they're just monsters. Just shadows."
A flicker of pain crossed his face. "But they aren't."
Sylvaen shook her head. "They destroy everything they touch."
Talon's jaw tightened. "And what do you think the Skyborne do?"
Sylvaen faltered.
Talon gestured at the burning village. "Do you think this war started with the Hollow Chorus? No. The Skyborne had the power of the Skyshards, and what did they do with it?"
Sylvaen hesitated. She had never questioned it before.
"The Hollow Chorus weren't always this way," Talon continued. "They were once Skyborne—like you. But when they refused to be controlled, the Elders cast them out. They turned them into shadows."
Sylvaen's stomach twisted.
Was it true?
She thought of the Council, the way they had judged her, the way they had demanded her obedience. She had felt uneasy, but she had dismissed it as paranoia.
What if she had been wrong?
What if everything she knew about this war was a lie?
Talon stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Come with me, Sylvaen."
Her heart stopped.
"What?"
"You don't belong with the Skyborne," Talon said. "You never have. You've seen the way they look at you. The way they fear you."
He extended a hand. "Come with me. I can show you the truth."
Sylvaen's breath came in shaky bursts. Her hands trembled at her sides.
Could she?
Could she trust him?
The Skyshard against her chest pulsed weakly, as if mirroring her hesitation.
She had spent her life fighting the Hollow Chorus. But if they were not what she thought they were…
What was she really fighting for?
Talon's hand remained outstretched. His gaze pleading.
"Sylvaen," he murmured. "Come home."
For the first time in her life—
She didn't know what to do.
To Be Continued…