It was cold and solemn outside as I waited near the main entrance for them. Night had already settled in, heavy and still, yet the sky above was breathtaking. Stars burned so brightly that they seemed to swallow the darkness itself, scattering light across the void until the night no longer felt empty.
The starry sky had always been the only thing I truly loved in life. There was something endlessly mesmerizing about it—something honest. Whenever I stared long enough, I felt myself being pulled in, as if the vastness was opening its arms to me. Engulfed. Lost. Like a never-ending dream with no need for an awakening. And the strange thing was… I was content there. So content that I wouldn't have minded if it never stopped, if I simply drifted forever among those distant lights.
But the Hallow sky was different.
When I looked up at it, that same pull lingered—yet it carried a weight I couldn't explain. The stars felt closer. Watching. Familiar in a way that made my chest tighten. As if I had seen this sky before… or as if it had seen me.
I didn't know why that thought unsettled me.
I just knew that unlike the sky I loved back home, this one didn't invite escape.
It remembered me.
After a while, I heard my name carried on the wind.
It cut through my amazement, snapping me back to the present. I turned and spotted Sare and Trace emerging from the darkness, their voices low but urgent as they kept repeating my name. For a brief moment, I realized something strange—I could see them clearly long before they were close enough to make out details.
My ability.
The darkness didn't blind me anymore.
I didn't hesitate. I ran toward them, my steps silent against the stone, and stopped just short of them, lowering my voice to a whisper.
"It's me. Trace. Sare."
Before either of them could respond, I grabbed both of their hands and pulled them along, leading them quickly back toward the temple. I didn't slow until we were safely inside, the stone walls swallowing the night sounds whole.
"What took you so long?" I asked, my voice coming out sharper than I intended—tight-lipped, controlled, edged with irritation. "You were supposed to be back before nightfall."
Even I was surprised by how stern I sounded.
Trace looked away first.
"She got carried away," Sare replied calmly, almost dismissively. "Wanted to go deeper. Cover more ground."
Trace clicked her tongue but didn't deny it.
"I wanted to cover as much ground as possible," Trace said dismissively, brushing past the concern in my voice. "When we leave, it'll be better if we already have somewhere to stay."
I held her gaze, letting the silence stretch before I spoke again. "Okay… but did you actually find anything?" I lingered on the question, a quiet tension settling in my chest.
Trace exhaled. "We found a massive pile of bones. Looks old. There's a ribcage big enough to shelter us inside."
Relief slipped through me before I could stop it. "That's perfect," I said. "Then we leave tomorrow."
Trace's head snapped toward me, sharp and immediate. "No. You're still injured."
"I know," I replied, my voice firmer than I felt. "But it's been a couple of days. I'm moving more freely now—and we can't stay here forever." I shifted my weight deliberately, proving the point even as a dull ache reminded me of my limits.
Before Trace could argue again, Sare cut in, her tone calm but decisive. "He's right. We should move as quickly as we can. Now that we know where we're going, waiting only puts us at more risk."
The fire crackled between us, shadows stretching along the stone walls as the decision settled—heavy, unavoidable.
"Alright," Trace said at last, her gaze hard and unyielding—sharp enough that it felt like it pierced straight through me. "But you can't slow us down."
"I won't," I replied without hesitation.
There was a brief pause, then I inhaled as something else surfaced in my mind. "Before we leave tomorrow… I almost forgot to give you both these."
I opened my hand.
Sare and Trace fell silent, their expressions shifting the moment they recognized what rested in my palm—Soul Shards. The faint glow reflected in their eyes, softening them in a way I rarely saw.
"I've been holding onto them," I continued quietly.
I split the shards between them. The moment they accepted them, the fragments dissolved into light, seeping into their bodies. Both of them stiffened slightly as the energy was absorbed—subtle, but unmistakable.
When it faded, Sare exhaled slowly, a hint of warmth breaking through her usual composure. Trace flexed her fingers, testing herself, eyes narrowing with renewed focus.
They didn't need to say anything.
This was preparation.
This was survival.
I followed behind them, letting them guide me with the knowledge they'd gathered—but even as we ran, my eyes never stopped moving. I took in every inch of the forest, scanning the shadows, the roots, the canopy above, making sure we didn't miss anything that might see us first.
We stopped abruptly.
A Hollow creature emerged from between the trees.
Before it could even fully turn toward us, my shadow dove forward—slipping across the ground like liquid darkness. It surged up from beneath the creature and sliced clean through the tendon at its ankle.
The Hollow collapsed.
In the same instant, Sare moved.
Her silver sword flashed, but this time it wasn't just silver. A brilliant, captivating gold light wrapped the blade, humming with restrained power as she stepped in and swung once—clean and precise.
The creature's head came off in a single motion.
"It was low rank," Trace said, already relaxing, shrugging her shoulders as if the fight hadn't even registered.
I watched the body dissolve, my pulse only just catching up. Even so… we're stronger.
When we first arrived in the Hollow, that thing would've pushed me to my limits. Now it barely slowed us down.
Sare knelt without ceremony and began to work, skinning the creature and cutting away usable meat with practiced efficiency. The smell of iron and raw flesh filled the air, but no one complained. A few minutes later, with the remains dealt with, we moved on again.
As we ran, a thought nagged at me. "How big are these bones, exactly?" I asked, trying to picture how a pile of remains could shelter all of us.
Sare didn't slow. "Honestly," she replied, "we couldn't even cover all of them."
That made me frown. "You mean—"
"That's how big it was," she finished.
The forest seemed quieter after that.
"Trace," I said as we ran, weaving through the warped trees, roots jutting up at odd angles. "What was that light on your sword? It looked like a brilliant flame."
She didn't slow. "It's my ability. I told you before—it can heal, but it's also destructive."
The way she said it—flat, almost distant—made my chest tighten.
"I can conjure the sun's flame," she continued, "and destroy with it. The sword just helps me channel it… control it better."
The forest felt wrong around us, twisted in a way that made depth and distance hard to judge. I swallowed and forced the next question out. "What about your restriction?"
My voice came out unsteady, half lost to our footfalls and the uneven terrain.
Trace was quiet for a moment.
"My restriction only activates when I heal," she finally said. "Not when I kill."
The words landed heavier than I expected.
"It's like," she added, quieter now, "my ability was made to destroy."
The sun never reached us beneath the canopy—but for a moment, it felt like something burning far too close.