The Echo of Emberlight

Chapter 4: The Hollowborne March

Smoke on the Horizon

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The sun broke through the ash-gray morning, its light pale and uncertain. A stillness hung over Emberhold that was more than silence; it was the breath held before a storm.

From the highest tower of the Emberguard Citadel, Lyra stood clad in newly-forged armor—blackened silver inlaid with threads of emberlight that pulsed with her heartbeat. The emblem of the First Flame, now restored, was etched over her chestplate: three interlocking rings, one reborn.

Below her, the city moved with urgency. Messengers sprinted through the courtyards. Embermages recited protection wards over the gates. Farmers were escorted into the inner ring. It was not panic, but preparation. The people knew now. The rift was real. And it was coming.

Kalen approached with a parchment in hand. He handed it to her without a word.

A sketch—rough, hurried, drawn in soot and sweat by scouts returning from the southern ridgelands.

A host.

Thousands of dark figures, not quite men, not quite shadows, poured through the valley below the rift. The Hollowborn army was no longer scattered wraiths; it had become an organized force. And they marched with purpose.

"Two days," Kalen said. "Three at best. They're headed straight for the Ember Wall."

Lyra didn’t speak. She traced a finger over the charcoal lines. One figure stood taller, darker, ringed in violet mist.

"The Hollowking," she whispered.

"If the legends are right, he's the first one who ever took the ember and twisted it. The reason the Flame War started."

"He’s the reason the ember was broken," Lyra said. "And now he wants to reclaim what was lost."

Caelin appeared beside them, pale but stronger, her ember stabilized. "He wants us. All of us who carry the ember. To consume it. Or maybe to become whole again."

The three stood in silence, watching as the morning sun was slowly blotted out by the thickening smoke curling over the horizon.

Lyra turned at last. "Get the Emberguard ready. We ride by dusk."

Kalen arched a brow. "Straight into their path?"

"Not to fight," Lyra said, her voice hard with resolve. "To light the beacon in the Vale. The one the Council forgot. If the old stories are true, it doesn’t just warn the cities. It awakens the Flamebound scattered across the realm."

Caelin's ember flared. "And if they don't answer the call?"

Lyra looked toward the storm of shadows rising beyond the ridgeline.

"Then we fight alone. But not in silence."

The ember within her pulsed brighter.

Not alone.

Never alone.

Beyond the mountains, smoke curled into a great dark wing stretching across the sky. The Hollowborne were coming.

But so was the fire.