Chapter 3: The Cracks in Darn Hollow
It started small—just whispers.
At first, the villagers dismissed the strange occurrences: the wind that seemed to carry voices, the sudden cold that blanketed the village at dawn, the rustling of the trees even when no breeze stirred. But there was always something in the air now—a sense of waiting, like a storm had already broken, and only the calm remained.
Kael felt it more than anyone. It pressed on him, heavier with each passing day, coiling in his chest like a serpent. The dreams were relentless now, and the memories—those fractured glimpses of another life—had begun to bleed into the waking world. He had known this place, these people, once. He had ruled here, in a time long forgotten. But that was not his burden now.
He could feel it, deep within: his power was waking.
And with it, something else was stirring.
---
One evening, as Kael walked down the narrow, cobbled street of Darn Hollow, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He couldn't explain it. But something had shifted. The very air felt thicker—unnatural, as if the village itself was holding its breath.
Lira was waiting for him by the square, the shadows of the evening stretching long across the ground. Her hands were empty, but her face was taut with concern.
"Something's wrong," she said without preamble. "I've seen them… the shadows."
Kael paused, the echo of her words reverberating in his mind. The shadows?
"You've seen what?"
"Figures. Just out of the corner of my eye. No faces. Just shapes—like something waiting." She glanced behind her, the faintest tremor in her voice. "And there's a feeling… like something is watching us."
Kael's eyes narrowed. He had felt it too. The faint stirring of something ancient and hungry just beyond the reach of his senses. "Where?"
Lira hesitated. "The temple. I… I've seen them near the old shrine. At night. The priest's been acting odd too. I think… I think something's calling them."
"Enric?" Kael asked, feeling an odd stab of unease. He had never trusted the high priest, but then again, he had never trusted anyone in this village. Not completely.
Lira nodded. "You need to go there. Tonight. I think whatever it is, it's connected to you."
Kael looked at her for a long moment, then gave a small, grim nod. "Stay inside tonight. Don't go near the shrine. It's not safe."
---
Night fell on Darn Hollow, the shadows stretching longer than they should, the wind whispering through the trees as though they carried voices not meant for mortal ears. The village grew quieter than usual, as though it too sensed the ominous presence gathering just beyond its borders.
Kael made his way to the shrine, his footfalls muffled on the damp earth. The moon hung low, a sliver of silver in a sky otherwise shrouded in clouds. As he approached the old stones, the air seemed to grow heavier, pressing against him like a physical weight.
There it was again. The whisper.
"Return…"
He froze, his pulse quickening. This time, it wasn't just in his mind. He could feel it beneath his skin, a vibration, a hum in the earth itself. It was almost as if the world itself was waiting for him to answer.
He stepped closer to the altar, the stone cold and smooth under his fingers. There, etched into its surface, was a symbol—a circle, twisted into a spiral, and inside it, a jagged line like a crack in the world itself. The symbol pulsed faintly, glowing with a strange, otherworldly light.
Kael's hand trembled as he touched it. The moment his skin made contact, the world shifted.
His vision blurred, and for a split second, he saw the face of a god.
Arkan.
Not the mortal shell of Kael, but the true face—pale white hair, eyes like the abyss, a crown of flame flickering above his brow. The figure stood in a burning city, blood-stained and glorious, his hand gripping a sword that shimmered with starlight.
The vision vanished as quickly as it came, leaving Kael on his knees in the cold night, gasping for breath. He didn't know how long he stayed there, but when he stood again, the shrine had changed. The stone altar pulsed with the same eerie light, now crackling with raw power, as if something ancient had been awakened.
And then he heard it.
The sound of footsteps.
They weren't the steps of a man, but the sound of something far older—far more dangerous. Kael spun, his pulse hammering in his chest.
Emerging from the woods were figures cloaked in shadow, their movements slow, deliberate. Their eyes burned with an unnatural light, red like the embers of a dying fire. The first one stepped forward, and the air crackled with an oppressive force. He was tall, gaunt, with a face that was not quite human. His eyes, empty and hollow, locked onto Kael.
"You should not have returned," the figure intoned in a voice like gravel scraping stone.
Kael's heart beat faster, not from fear, but from recognition. He had seen these creatures before. They were no mortal beings. They were hunters—hunting him.
The figure raised his hand, and the ground beneath Kael's feet trembled. The shadows lengthened, drawing closer, enveloping him.
Kael's eyes burned black as the abyss.
He wasn't afraid.
Not anymore.
With a swift motion, he drew the dagger at his side, but before he could strike, the creature lunged forward, faster than he could react.
But then—there was a flash of light.
A figure, cloaked in flame and shadow, appeared between them.
It was her. Lira.
Kael's mind whirled. He hadn't seen her move, hadn't heard her approach—but now, standing between him and the shadow, Lira raised a hand, a soft hum of power rippling from her fingertips. The shadow creature recoiled, hissing, as if burned by an invisible flame.
"You will not touch him," Lira said, her voice calm but fierce.
The creature hissed again, but it hesitated.
Kael stared at her, eyes wide with disbelief. "How—?"
Lira didn't answer. She was focused, her hands glowing with a strange light, her posture poised as if she had always known how to handle such things.
Then, with a sudden, explosive motion, the shadow creatures vanished into the mist, as though they had never been there at all.
Kael looked at Lira, confused, but a chill settled in his chest. "Who are you?"
Lira turned toward him, her expression unreadable. "Not who you think. But I'm here, Kael. And I won't let them take you."
The world around them was still, but Kael felt the weight of the unknown press against him more than ever.
Tonight, Darn Hollow had cracked. And Kael's past had caught up with him.