Episode 13 – "Whispers of the Hollow Crown"
From the novel: Reclaimer of the Forsaken Realm
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Return to the Arcanum Citadel
The journey back to the Arcanum Citadel was almost dreamlike in its eerie quietness, as if the very world around them was holding its breath. The once mighty citadel, which had been a beacon of power, knowledge, and mastery of the arcane, now seemed like a hollow shell of its former self. The towering walls of the citadel stretched out ahead like an enormous monument to a forgotten age, its sharp spires and crumbling stonework barely visible through a thick fog that wrapped around the structure like an insidious shroud. It wasn't the fog of nature—it was something darker, something that seemed to be born from the very foundation of the citadel itself.
Zane's mind was clouded, a reflection of the maelstrom of emotions he felt. The events in the Ashen Vale had marked a shift—both for him and for the world. The seals, broken, had done more than just unleash power. They had pulled back the veil that had long kept the ancient, unspeakable forces of the universe at bay. But the knowledge of the Silent God and the cryptic message that hung over his every step only deepened the questions. What exactly was the Silent God? Why had these seals been hidden for so long? And what was the price of their breaking?
Kaela's voice broke through his thoughts, her tone low but heavy with concern.
> "Zane, I can feel it. Something is off about this place... I don't know if we should be here. It feels wrong."
She was right—there was an unmistakable heaviness in the air. The citadel had always been a place of powerful arcane energy, but now, the magic seemed stale, broken, as if it no longer held the same purpose. The winds no longer whispered secrets in the halls; instead, they groaned with forgotten sorrows. Even the vibrant glow of the citadel's lights had dimmed, casting long, unnatural shadows across the once-grand staircases.
Rhain, always the steady presence, eyed the structure with distrust. His hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his sword. "This place," he said quietly, "has been abandoned for too long."
Zane nodded solemnly. "And yet, it still feels... alive."
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The Citadel's Darkening Heart
The gates groaned open at Zane's approach, their ancient hinges shuddering with an ominous squeal. Beyond the gates, the citadel's interior lay in an unsettling stillness. There was no bustle of magical experiments or the soft hum of incantations echoing through the grand halls. The usual ambient hum of magic—the quiet undertone of arcane energy that had always flowed like a river—was gone. In its place was a silence so profound that even their footsteps seemed like a disruption.
As they walked deeper into the citadel, Zane couldn't shake the sensation that they were being watched. The once ornate banners of the Order of Arcanists, now faded and torn, hung limply from the walls. Where there should have been the sound of footsteps and the murmurs of scholars poring over ancient tomes, there was only the oppressive quiet.
Finally, they reached the central chamber—the heart of the citadel, a vast dome of towering arches that stretched high above. It had once been the seat of knowledge, where the brightest minds had gathered to study the deepest secrets of magic. Now, it was nothing more than an empty, hollowed-out monument to a forgotten age. The Grand Arcane Pool at the center of the room had fallen still, its surface once teeming with radiant energy now dull and lifeless. The magic that had once powered the citadel was gone—drained, or perhaps... sealed.
Then, Zane saw him—Eryx Valmont, the High Arcanist, standing at the far end of the hall, his back to them, cloaked in a darkness that seemed to swirl around him. There was an unsettling stillness to his posture, as if he were waiting for them. Waiting for Zane.
The moment his eyes met Zane's, the air grew thick, charged with an unnatural force. Eryx turned slowly, his face obscured in shadow, his presence weighing heavily on the room. When he spoke, his voice was soft, almost like a whisper carried by the winds of a distant storm.
> "So, the Reclaimer returns. But not with the company I expected." Eryx's smile was thin, predatory. "And yet, it doesn't matter. None of this matters."
Zane's heart raced. There was something deeply wrong about Eryx's words—his tone, his demeanor. He had never known the High Arcanist to be anything but calm, calculated, and wise. This Eryx was something different. Something far darker.
> "What have you done?" Zane asked, his voice thick with both suspicion and growing anger. "This place—what happened to it?"
Eryx chuckled, a soft sound that felt more like a rasp than a laugh. He stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate. "This place? It was always destined for change, Zane. A new era is upon us. The seals are broken, and what you've unleashed... it is only the beginning."
Zane's sword hand twitched. "What have you become?" he demanded. "Answer me!"
> "What I have become?" Eryx repeated, as if amused. "I've simply embraced what has always been. The truth of this world. The truth of the Hollow Crown."
The words rang out like a distant bell tolling in Zane's ears, but the meaning behind them was as elusive as the dark mist creeping through the citadel.
> "The Hollow Crown?" Kaela whispered, her voice tinged with recognition.
Eryx nodded. "Ah, so you have heard the name. The Sons of the Hollow Crown. It is they who will bring forth the Silent God. And it is they who will remake the world in His image."
Zane felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. The Silent God—a name that had always been whispered in dark corners of ancient texts, a being of incomprehensible power, and one that threatened not only the Arcanum Citadel but the very fabric of reality.
> "You're working with them?" Zane demanded. "You've joined them?"
Eryx's lips curled into a thin, almost pitying smile. "I didn't join them, Zane. I became one of them. They offer the only true path to salvation. The Silent God offers us freedom—freedom from the lies we've been taught. The realm is sick, poisoned by time and by the greed of those in power. The Silent God will cleanse us, rebirth the world into a new age."
Zane felt a surge of rage, but Kaela stepped forward, her voice steady, almost pleading.
> "You don't understand, Eryx. You've become part of something far darker than you realize. The Silent God doesn't want salvation. It wants obliteration."
Eryx's eyes glittered with a cold fire. "You speak of salvation in terms of life. But the Silent God speaks of salvation through death. Death is not an end, Kaela. It is the beginning. The Convergence has already begun. Soon, the Hollow Crown will awaken, and all of you will see the truth."
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The Hollow Crown Awakens
Just then, the ground beneath them trembled, an ominous rumble that reverberated through the citadel. Zane felt the shift in the air—the heavy weight of arcane power gathering, like a storm about to break. The distant howls of unseen creatures echoed through the chamber, their cries piercing the oppressive silence. Something was stirring.
Kaela's eyes widened as she looked to the sky. "It's... it's happening, isn't it?"
Eryx's face contorted with twisted joy. "Yes, the Convergence has begun. It is already too late to stop it."
Zane could feel the very earth beneath his feet beginning to warp. The magic that had once flowed freely in the citadel was now being twisted into something else—something monstrous. His hand tightened around his sword, but even he could feel the weight of the world pressing down on him.
> "Then we fight," Zane declared, his voice trembling with determination. "We fight for the realm—for everyone."
Eryx's golden eyes glowed brighter, the power within him surging like an unstoppable tide.
> "We shall see, Reclaimer. We shall see."