The Hollowing

Chapter 4

The Mirrorlands never felt alive. At least, that’s what I had thought before. It had always been still, a place of frozen reflections and empty echoes. But now, as Riven and I left the Rest Area behind, something felt different.

The ground beneath my boots didn’t just feel solid. It pulsed, like a slow heartbeat underfoot. The air had a hum—so quiet I almost didn’t notice, like a whisper waiting to be heard. I didn’t mention it. Not yet.

Riven was still shaken from what happened back there. He wouldn’t say it, but I could tell. His grip on his sword was tight, his shoulders tense. He kept looking at me like I was some kind of puzzle he couldn’t solve. Maybe he thought I was reckless. Maybe he thought I was worse.

Good.

We walked in silence. The trees stretched high and sharp like claws. The sky was still that endless gray. The ground still reflected us, but something felt... off. A presence. I didn’t see it, but I knew it was there. The Mirrorlands were watching.

"You feel it, don’t you?" I asked.

Riven kept moving. "Feel what?"

"This place. It’s different."

His jaw tightened. He felt it too, but he didn’t want to admit it. "Nothing here is real. We keep going."

I smirked. "If nothing’s real, why do you look so tense?"

He didn’t answer.

The path ahead twisted in ways it shouldn’t. Distances stretched and shrank at random. The trees seemed closer than before. I turned my back for just a second.

When I looked again, one had moved.

Not much. Just a little. But enough.

I didn’t tell Riven.

The whispers got louder. Not words, not yet. Just sound pressing in, curling around my thoughts. I ignored it. If you listen too closely, they get in.

Then the ground cracked.

A sharp splintering sound. Riven reached for me—but too late. The ground shattered, and I fell.

For a moment, nothing. No sound. No feeling. Just empty darkness.

Then—I hit the ground.

Pain shot through me, but I was alive. I pushed myself up, blinking against the thick fog rolling around me. The air felt heavy, pressing against my skin.

Footsteps.

Not Riven’s.

Slow. Careful.

I turned my head. My breath caught. A figure stood in the mist, blurry, flickering like a broken image. Its eyes—or where its eyes should be—were empty. Staring at me.

A reflection.

But not mine.

I stayed still. The thing tilted its head, like it was testing something. It didn’t move closer. Just watched.

Then, it spoke.

My voice. Exactly like mine.

"Juniper. You left something behind."

A chill ran down my spine. I didn’t say that. I didn’t know what it meant.

A hand grabbed my wrist. I nearly struck out—until I saw who it was.

Riven. His grip was firm. "We need to go. Now."

I didn’t argue.

The figure didn’t follow as we ran, but I could feel it watching. The whispers in the air changed, sharpening, almost forming words.

Not yet.

But soon.

And whatever had changed in the Mirrorlands... it wasn’t finished with us yet.

We ran until the mist thinned and the ground felt solid again. Riven didn’t let go of my wrist until he was sure we were alone. I wrenched my arm away, shaking off the lingering cold.

"That thing," I panted. "It wasn’t me. But it knew me."

Riven pressed his lips into a thin line. "It’s trying to get inside your head. The Mirrorlands don’t just reflect what’s real. They reflect what’s buried."

I swallowed hard. The thought made my stomach twist. "So what happens if I listen?"

His gaze darkened. "You won’t like the answer."

We moved carefully, the path ahead shifting in unnatural ways. At times, it felt like we were walking in circles, but the trees—those awful, twisting things—kept changing shape, proving otherwise.

Then, the whispers formed words.

At first, they were faint. A murmur. Then, clear as a bell, I heard my own voice again.

"Do you remember what you did, Juniper?"

I stopped cold. My pulse pounded in my ears.

Riven glanced at me. "Ignore it."

But I couldn’t. Because the words were crawling under my skin, hooking into something old. Something I had buried deep.

"You left something behind," the voice whispered. "Don’t you want it back?"

I forced myself to keep walking. "It’s just a trick."

"Are you sure?" The whispers turned into laughter. "What if it’s not? What if this is where you belong?"

Riven suddenly grabbed my shoulder. "Move. Now."

I didn’t question him. We took off running just as the ground behind us cracked open. Something rose from the darkness—a twisted, gnarled mass of limbs and shadows, shifting like liquid, moving like a puppet with too many strings.

It had no face.

But somehow, I knew it was smiling.

The laughter followed us as we ran. The path ahead bent and twisted, warping reality itself. My breath burned in my lungs, my legs ached, but we couldn’t stop.

Not yet.

Because the Mirrorlands had woken up.