The Hollowing

Chapter 3

The Mirrorlands never changed. That was the first thing Riven told me when we arrived. The sky stayed an eternal, ashen gray, neither dark nor light. The trees—if you could call them that—stretched unnaturally into the sky like charred bones, their jagged forms twisted and unmoving. The ground shimmered, not quite solid, not quite liquid, like an endless pool of fractured reflections. Everything remained the same. Stagnant. Unforgiving.

Until now.

I skipped ahead of Riven, humming, my boots tapping lightly on the uneven surface. The eerie silence that had swallowed countless souls before me didn’t bother me. Honestly, I liked it. There was something almost peaceful about the emptiness, like the whole world had paused just for me.

Riven, of course, didn’t approve. He kept his pace steady behind me, watching me from beneath the shadow of his hood. I could practically feel his disapproval radiating off of him.

“You’re going to trip and fall into an endless abyss,” he muttered.

I paused, glanced down at a jagged fissure nearby, then grinned at him. “Nah. I have excellent balance.”

Riven scoffed. “This place doesn’t care about your balance.”

“Well, maybe it should.”

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. Typical Riven.

Up ahead, something new emerged from the shifting landscape—a Rest Area. A small stone platform, half-consumed by mist, with a single broken mirror standing at its center. I’d heard of these places. Supposedly, they were safe spots. Sanctuaries.

My eyes lit up. “Ooh, what’s this?”

“Nothing good,” Riven said flatly. But I was already moving forward.

The moment I stepped onto the platform, the air changed.

It was subtle at first. The mist thickened. The temperature dropped. The faint whispers that always lingered in the distance grew louder, curling around the edges of reality like fingers against glass.

Interesting.

“Juniper,” Riven warned. “Step back.”

I didn’t. My gaze was locked on the mirror. Unlike the others I’d seen, this one wasn’t cracked or dulled. It was pristine. Untouched. Almost... inviting.

Then, my reflection blinked.

I didn’t.

A chill slid down my spine—not fear, just... curiosity.

The world collapsed.

The sky turned black. The ground twisted beneath us. The Mirrorlands, once eerily still, came alive with movement—shadows slithering like oil, whispers morphing into guttural, hungry voices. I staggered, but not from fear.

“Oh,” I murmured. “That’s different.”

Riven grabbed my wrist, yanking me back. “Don’t talk. Don’t breathe too hard. It’s not real.”

I tilted my head. “Then why do you look so worried?”

A wall of shifting figures erupted from the mist. Too many hands. Too many voices. My own voice—whispering things only I should know. My fears. My doubts.

I studied them.

“That’s not my voice. It sounds—”

The figures lunged.

Riven moved instantly, blade flashing. The spectral forms shrieked as he cut through them, but they didn’t vanish. They never did. Because they weren’t real.

He knew that. He said that.

And yet—his grip on his sword tightened. His breathing quickened.

The Mirrorlands had fooled him before. Nearly consumed him.

And that was when I laughed.

Riven froze. The figures froze.

And then—

They shattered.

The darkness cracked apart, dissolving into mist, fading as quickly as it had come. The air warmed. The silence returned. The mirror stood untouched, as if nothing had happened.

I dusted off my jacket. “Well. That was fun.”

Riven stared at me, sword still raised. His breath came fast. His pulse roared in his ears. “You—what—how—?”

I grinned. “It wasn’t real. You said so yourself.”

He looked like he was struggling to process what had just happened. Like his brain short-circuited. I’ve seen people break in places like this. I’ve seen them lose themselves.

And I had just... laughed?

Finally, he sheathed his sword, exhaling sharply. “You’re insane.”

“Thanks.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I took it as one.”

He rubbed his temples. “I rescued you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”

“Yes!”

I tilted my head, amused. “Pretty sure I saved myself.”

He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like disbelief.

We sat in the Rest Area for a while after that. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe Riven was making sure I was stable. That I hadn’t been affected in some hidden way.

But I was fine. Of course I was.

I traced patterns in the reflective ground, occasionally glancing at him. He was interesting. I could see him trying to figure me out.

“Most people don’t get through that unscathed,” he finally muttered.

I shrugged. “Most people are scared of things that can’t hurt them.”

He exhaled through his nose. “Fear isn’t always rational.”

I glanced at him then. Something unreadable flickered in his eyes.

“No,” I said. “It isn’t.”

For a moment, silence stretched between us. Not uncomfortable, but different.

Riven wasn’t used to different.

Finally, I stretched my arms over my head and grinned. “Well. That was a lovely experience. Let’s do it again sometime.”

He scowled. “Let’s not.”

I laughed, standing. “C’mon, Knight-in-Shining-Moodiness. We’ve got more horrors to meet.”

Riven sighed but followed.

And for the first time, the Mirrorlands didn’t feel so stagnant.