The silence between Ethan and Serin stretched thin like a drawn bowstring.
She held her posture rigid—one hand over her heart, the other at her side, where a curved dagger rested. Her eyes were strange, glowing faintly white, as if the Riftlight ran through her veins the way blood did through Ethan's.
Kael broke the stillness first. "We don't have time for rituals. The Veil Warden saw him. The Shade saw him. Word will spread."
Ethan turned to Serin. "I need answers. Fast."
Serin nodded once. "Then follow me."
---
The stronghold beneath the mountains was carved into obsidian rock, veins of Riftstone glowing along its halls. Torches flickered with blue fire, casting warped shadows. The Marksworn moved silently through the halls—ghosts in armor, their faces hidden behind masks carved with beast-like features.
Serin led Ethan into a chamber that resembled a war room. A massive circular table sat in the center, its surface etched with maps of the continents, marked with symbols Ethan didn't recognize—some glowing, others crossed out with black ash.
"This is where we watch the fractures," she said.
"Fractures?"
Kael stepped in. "Tears in the boundary. Between this world and the Rift."
Ethan frowned. "I thought the Guilds handled that."
Serin gave a cold laugh. "The Guilds only respond. We prevent. They stopped believing in the old warnings. Called us heretics. But we've remained—hidden."
She looked at Ethan. "Waiting for the bearer to return."
Ethan looked down at the glowing symbol on the map—his symbol.
"I don't know how to be what you're looking for."
"You're not meant to be what we want," Serin replied. "You're meant to be what this world needs."
---
She waved her hand across the table. A projection shimmered above it—an illusion, drawn from Rift energy.
A vision unfolded: vast cities consumed by Riftbeasts, Guilds collapsing under their own corruption, and a tower of black stone rising in the wastelands. At its top stood a cloaked figure with blue flames burning from his eyes.
"Who is that?" Ethan asked.
Kael looked grim. "They call him the Hollow King. A former bearer of the mark. One who chose the Rift."
Ethan's stomach dropped. "There was another like me?"
Serin nodded. "Decades ago. The mark rejected him, but he forced it to bend to his will. He opened a permanent Rift. It's spreading from the Ashlands now, swallowing the world piece by piece."
"And he knows I exist now?" Ethan asked.
Kael responded quietly, "He's probably known longer than you have."
---
Ethan turned away from the table, running a hand through his hair. "So what do I do? Train? Build an army? I'm not ready for any of this."
Serin stepped closer, her voice firm. "No one ever is."
She pulled a small blade from her belt and dragged it across her palm. Her blood glowed briefly before vanishing into the wound.
She extended the blade toward Ethan. "Take the oath."
Ethan hesitated.
"This isn't about power," she said. "It's about responsibility. If you walk away now, the Hollow King wins. The Rift takes everything."
Ethan reached out slowly, took the blade, and pressed it lightly against his own palm. Pain flared, sharp but fleeting. His blood shimmered like hers, then vanished.
Serin clasped his forearm.
"You are sworn."
---
Later that night, Ethan sat alone in one of the stronghold's stone alcoves, overlooking a deep chasm where Riftlight drifted like fog. He couldn't sleep. His thoughts swirled—Kael's history, Serin's prophecy, the Hollow King's rising threat.
The mark on his chest burned faintly, reacting to the energy all around.
"You're louder now," he muttered to it. "Like you're... remembering."
Kael appeared behind him, leaning against the wall. "It's not just memory. It's awakening."
Ethan looked up. "You think I can do this?"
Kael paused. "I think the world's already set it in motion. You just have to decide what kind of bearer you'll be."
Ethan stared down into the void.
"I want to fight," he said. "Not just to survive. But to end this. No more guild corruption. No more Riftbeasts tearing apart cities. No more orphans like me."
Kael gave a rare smile. "Then we start tomorrow."
Ethan stood.
"Good."
---