WHISPERS OF THE HOLLOW

CHAPTER SEVEN: Through the Shattered Glass

The Hollow Realm — Deeper Below

The Hollow Realm—Deeper Below Lena slid on her side, skidding across the damp stone, her elbow striking something sharp. She scarcely registered the pain as it rushed through her arm. Her ears ringing. Her eyesight pulsated. The air around her shimmered with the shattered glass from the mirror field.

She was once again alone. Her voice crackled. "Damien?" Only her echo responded. She forced herself to her knees, breathing hard, trying to figure out where she was. The space had completely transformed—no longer a field of mirrors or a collapsing cathedral.

This location was underground and faintly lighted by flickering torches imbedded in the walls. The architecture appeared foreign, angular, and half-formed, as if it had grown rather than been made. The walls pulsed softly... like veins.

She took a tentative step forwards. Her foot landed in a shallow puddle, which spoke her name in ripples. Lena. She turned around. No one was present. Her breathing increased. "This is not real.

"This is not real." The Hollow responded with a low, feminine laugh. From the darkness ahead, a man appeared. Tall. Radiant. Familiar. Her mother. "Mama?" Her mother smiled softly. She looked precisely like Lena remembered her: beautiful brown eyes, warm skin, and hair in a long, dark braid down her back. But something about her gaze was odd. Too still. Too knowledgeable. "You've grown so beautiful," the woman commented. Lena's lip twitched. "You're not real."

The vision of her mother moved closer. "What is real, sweetheart?" A town that conceals your legacy? A man who will lie to keep you weak? Or is it the blood in your veins that sings in this place? Lena shakes her head. "You are merely a part of this place. "A trick." Her mother tilted her head. "Is it a trick if it tells you the truth?"

A pulse echoed across the floor, and Lena stumbled back. The apparition dissipated. Behind her, a fresh figure appeared. Herself. Again. But this version was younger—sixteen, the age when she first noticed shadows moving on the edge of her chamber and heard whispers in the woods. Her reflection spoke.

"We were always supposed to return. Do you feel it? "This is where you belong." Lena turned and ran. She darted into the passage, dodging around archways of bone and thorn, her boots splashing in the water as she pushed herself deeper. She had no idea where she was headed, but she knew she wanted to get away.

But the Hollow altered. Doors appeared where none had previously existed. The halls curled in inconceivable angles. She soon stood in a circular chamber illuminated by a violet flame. There was a pedestal in the centre. On it, her family's grimoire. Damien had always claimed that the one she was looking for had been lost. The cover was cracked. Faintly shimmering. And when she approached, it opened on its own.

Pages flicked madly until they arrived on a spell written in her mother's handwriting. The title chilled her blood. The Hollow Birth Rite. She leaned out to touch the ink, but the voice came back. Arius. "Do you see now? They buried your birthright. Hide your power to ensure your obedience. Damien pretends to defend you, yet he is afraid of you. Lena turned. He stood in the torchlight, his robes moving like wind-blown smoke.

"Why me?" she questioned. "Why does it have to be me?" He moved closer. "Because your blood sings at this location. Because you were born carrying the Hollow's mark. You are its successor and voice. And whether you like it or not, you are the queen."

She backed away. "You want to control me." "No. I want you to exercise self-control. Accept your truth. "Embrace what is within." He extended his hand. "Say the words." Complete the rite. And everything that is confusing you right now will make sense.

The grimoire's pages pulsated. However, another sound interrupted. Footsteps. Someone is fleeing. Damien raced into the chamber, breathless, his face covered in blood and grime. His blade sparkled against the stone. "Lena—get away from him." Arius breathed slowly. "Here he comes again."

"Always chasing fate and never accepting it." Damien stood between them and glared. "I told you to run." Lena gazed at each of them. "Why haven't you told me about this? What about my family, this power, and the Hollowbirth Rite?

Lena's lips separated. Her pulse quickened. Damien reached out. "Lena, please." If you say those words, there's no turning back. She gazed at him, Arius, and Lyra. Look at the truth in their eyes. And she whispered, "I..." The flames from the torches exploded upward.