The journey to the Hollow of Ancients began at dawn, the pale sky bruised with lavender and gold. Kaelin stood at the crest of the eastern ridge, the cold wind slicing through her cloak like blades. Theron was already saddling his horse, his broad frame casting long shadows on the frost-bitten ground.
Behind them, the elite guard gathered silently, the tension among the ranks almost suffocating. No one dared to speak much. The Hollow wasn’t just a place—it was a myth turned warning, a place where time twisted and truths were stripped bare.
Kaelin inhaled deeply. Her bond with Theron pulsed in the back of her mind, steady and warm. But she wasn’t relying on that now. This journey was for something older than love—older than vengeance. It was about understanding the prophecy that had begun
