The joy of homecoming was short-lived.
Less than a week after the Hollow Legion’s triumphant return from the Cursed Wastes, whispers began to circulate. Villagers spoke of strange dreams. Travelers claimed to see flickers of light where none should be. And then, the reports arrived—quiet at first, then louder.
Entire patrols vanishing. Packs slaughtered in the night.
Something had survived the Cursed Wastes.
---
Kaelin stood before the Council Hall’s grand table, her arms crossed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Her armor had barely been removed since their return, and now, the quiet peace she had craved so deeply was already beginning to unravel.
Theron leaned beside her, just as tense. Across from them stood Myrra, Elira, Bastian, Lira, and several regional leaders called in for an eme
