WHISPERS OF THE HOLLOW

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Hollowborn

Lyra’s POV — The Edge of the Rift

The stink from the Hollow was different now. Not like rotting or terror. But something older. Hungrier.

The aroma of pandemonium has been unleashed. Lyra's skin prickled as she turned to face the new rift behind Damien. She saw them—those eyeless beasts tearing through the hole, wailing without lips, their twisted bodies bringing nightmares to life.

They were not born in the Hollow. They were hollow-fed. Uncontrolled. Unbound. Ancient echoes of a hunger that predated Arius, and thus the Veil Bearer himself. Lena froze, hand reached towards the Veil Bearer's mask, her eyes wide with dread.

Damien pivoted on reflex, raised his blade, and shielded her without hesitation. And Lyra? She burnt. She recalled everything.

What it felt like to fall into the Hollow's embrace, to give in to its promises and have her soul consumed in exchange for power.

She'd become its creature, voice, and weapon. She had previously ruled the shadows. And now... they are no longer listening.

Lyra darted towards the fissure. "They shouldn't be able to enter this plane!" she yelled.

"The balance was held by Arius's binding—by the Rite!" The Veil Bearer turned to face her, his expression opaque.

"The Rite was shattered." The gate is open. "And the Hollow remembers being hungry."

"Then close it!" she said, her voice increasing with rage.

"Only the Warden can." His gaze flickered back to Lena, dozens of times. But Lena was paralysed between fates.

Lyra gritted her teeth and used her own magic. The ground cracked around her feet. Violet flames erupted from her palms, striking one of the eyeless beasts as it charged towards Damien.

It screamed—silently, mindlessly—but staggered back, limbs flaming. "Lena!" Lyra yelled. "Do you want to fix what's broken?" Do you wish to be more than a victim or a vessel? Then decide. Now."

Lena blinked, sweat beads on her brow. The Veil Bearer gazed, calm as a god, unconcerned by the chaos unfolding around him. His mask shimmered in his palm, reflecting Lena's conflicted expression.

Lyra unleashed another bolt of flame, but there were too many. They were multiplying. One lunged at her. Damien countered with a s***h, but his blade hardly delayed the attack. He cursed and moved back towards Lena.

"Lyra, we're going to be overrun." "Not if I break the threshold," she whispered. She raised her arms and invoked the language of the Hollow—the forbidden sigils engraved into her bones when she swore her soul away. Magic erupted from her fingertips.

Glyphs scorched into the sky like thunder runes. The breach shivered. The monsters howled and stumbled. The Veil Bearer's mask wavered. Lena's gaze shifted from Lyra to Damien to the Veil Bearer.

Another shriek. This is one individual. A child. Lyra's heart seized. She turned. A boy of about seven had ventured into the Hollow from the tree line. A actual child. Not a recollection. Not a vision. Flesh and blood. Confused. Crying.

"No," Lyra muttered. The beasts turned in unison. They sensed him. And hasty. Lyra's body moved before her brain could keep up. Her magic surged madly. She dashed towards the youngster, Damien yelling behind her. One of the beasts attacked from the side, slicing her ribs, but she refused to halt. The boy stood still, his small face wet in tears. Lyra shrieked and dived. She tackled him to the ground just as a swarm of animals descended.

Pain slashed across her back. Her arms. Claws and teeth are tearing, and shadows bite deeply. With her final surge of power, she created a ward. Then— Light. A searing silver blaze. Every creature around her disintegrated. She gazed up through bloody hair. Lena stood tall. She holds the mask in her hand. But not in her face. She clutched it as a brand, gleaming. Her voice boomed around the hollow:

"I'm not your queen. I'm not your prey. "I'm your reckoning." The monsters shrieked as one. And the rift — Tore wider. Something enormous stirred beyond it. The genuine source. The Original Hunger. Lyra drew the youngster into her arms and stumbled back. Damien rushed to Lena. "You have to shut it now!"

But Lena's gaze was fixated on the breach. She muttered, "It's awake."

The Hollow responded with a roar that shattered the heavens. The terrain surrounding them had distorted. The trees dissolved into thorns. The meadow became a mouth. Time slowed—seconds looping, shadows recreating actions they hadn't yet performed.

Lyra breathed in short gasps. The ward surrounding the youngster was dissipating. She put her back against a stone protrusion, protecting him while bleeding and trembling. Lena moved forward, mask in one hand and magic throbbing in the other. The Hollow bowed towards her, a thousand mouths whispering in lost languages.

The Veil Bearer stood calmly at the edge of the breach, amidst the commotion. "You've merely scratched the surface of its might, girl. If you put on that mask, you might become its vessel. But if you reject it, you will never be able to control what comes next."

Lena turned slightly, her gaze meeting Lyra's. Lyra shakes her head. "Do not wear it. You are not designed to contain it. "You're supposed to change it."

Damien seized Lena's wrists. "You have already altered it. You acted mercifully. Do not fall now. Do not give it what it wants. But the ground split again. Something walked through. There's no creature this time.

A woman.

Tall. Pale as ash. Her eyes matched Lena's. Lyra's jaw fell. "That's—" "—my mother," Lena whispered. The woman did not speak. She moved quietly towards Lena, as if distance didn't matter. Her presence calmed the beasts and bent the wind.

Lena trembled. "You've died. I saw—" But her mother shook her head, slowly.

"I am what remains." A piece caught in the final breath of the Hollow's grace."

The Veil Bearer bowed before her. "Keeper Emeritus." She turned to him with hatred.

"You forgot what the Hollow was meant to be."

She then confronted her daughter. "Lena, there was never a choice between ruling and running. The choice was between love and terror. "What you bring—what you are—is the first light this place has seen in centuries."

Lena's hand trembled. Her mother went forward and covered the mask with her own hand. "Let it go." The mask dissolved.

The Hollow shrieked.

And the rift — exploded. A blast of light emerged from the tear. The Original Hunger emerged—a jumble of fangs, eyeballs, absence, and sound.

Lena raised both hands, primal magic bursting from her palms. But right before the bomb hit it— Darkness. Total. And silence.