Moisture clung to the tunnel's walls, narrowing the space until it felt as though the earth itself was leaning in, whispering secrets in a language older than time. The air hung heavy, saturated with the sharp, metallic scent of iron mingled with the slow, inevitable breath of decay. Each inhale was a reminder of forgotten histories buried deep beneath the city's restless surface—stories etched in rust and shadow, waiting patiently to be uncovered.
Lila's boots splashed through shallow puddles, each step echoing like a heartbeat in the oppressive silence. Ethan moved ahead, his silhouette sharp against the faint glow of a rune-etched lantern he'd pulled from his pack. The Hollow's chaos—the scream, the writhing shadow—lingered in Lila's mind, a warning she couldn't shake. Her shadow clung to her, restless, its edges fraying like a threadbare cloak. She felt it stirring, not just reacting but wanting, as if the market's raw magic had awakened something deep within her.
"Keep up," Ethan called softly, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He glanced back, his hazel eyes catching the lantern's light. "This place doesn't forgive stragglers."
Lila nodded, though her thoughts were elsewhere. The address from Kael, scrawled on that scrap of parchment, pointed to a dealer named Vryn, a figure whispered about in the Hollow's darkest corners. If Vryn was supplying The Veil with void crystals, they were their best chance at answers. But the shadow attack in the market had rattled her. It wasn't just the violence—it was the familiarity. The way the shadow had moved, fluid yet fractured, mirrored her own powers in a way that made her skin crawl.
She pushed the thought aside, focusing on the tunnel's uneven floor. The walls were carved with symbols, some glowing faintly, others scorched as if burned by a rogue spell. The Hollow was a labyrinth, a neutral ground where factions mingled but trust was a currency rarer than gold. Lila's deal with Kael weighed heavy—a favor, terms undefined. She'd been reckless, but desperation had a way of blurring lines.
The tunnel widened into a chamber, its ceiling lost in darkness. Ethan stopped, raising a hand. "Wait," he whispered, his posture tensing. Lila froze, her shadow coiling around her ankles like a protective vine. A faint hum filled the air, not sound but sensation, like static crawling over her skin. Her vision blurred, the edges of the chamber warping as if reality itself were bending.
"Lila!" Ethan's voice cut through, sharp and distant. She blinked, and the world snapped back—almost. Shadows danced on the walls, not cast by the lantern but alive, writhing like smoke. Her breath hitched as one shadow stretched toward her, its form shifting into something human, small, familiar. A child's silhouette, clutching a tattered doll.
Her heart stopped. No. Not now.
The chamber dissolved, and Lila was no longer in the Hollow.
She was eight years old, standing in the attic of her family's sprawling estate, the air heavy with dust and the scent of old books. Moonlight streamed through a cracked window, painting the floor in silver. Lila's small hands trembled as she clutched her doll, its button eyes glinting like they held secrets. The shadows around her were moving—not normal shadows, but alive, curling toward her like curious fingers.
"Lila," her mother's voice had hissed from downstairs, sharp with warning. "Stop it. Now."
But Lila couldn't stop. She didn't know how. The shadows had started moving a month ago, first in small ways—a flicker at the edge of her vision, a shape that didn't match the light. Then they'd grown bolder, responding to her emotions. When she was angry, they sharpened into blades. When she was scared, they wrapped around her like a shield. Tonight, they were everywhere, spilling across the attic floor, climbing the walls, whispering in voices she couldn't understand.
She'd tried to tell her mother, but the words always stuck in her throat. Her family—House Morgan, one of the council's oldest bloodlines—was built on power, but it was controlled, disciplined. Her father wielded fire with surgical precision; her mother bent light to blind or deceive. Darian, barely thirteen, already summoned storms with a flick of his wrist. But Lila's shadows were wild, unpredictable, wrong. "Unnatural," her father had muttered once, his eyes cold. "Dangerous."
The attic door slammed open, and her mother stormed in, her silver hair glowing faintly with the light she commanded. "What are you doing?" she snapped, her gaze sweeping the room. The shadows froze, then retreated, slinking back to their corners. Lila's doll fell from her hands, landing with a soft thud.
"I—I didn't mean to," Lila stammered, tears burning her eyes. "They just… happen."
Her mother's face softened, but only for a moment. "You can't let them," she said, kneeling to meet Lila's gaze. "The council watches us, Lila. They'll see this—see you—as a threat. Do you understand?"
Lila nodded, though she didn't. Not really. She only knew the fear in her mother's eyes, the way it mirrored her own. That night, her mother taught her to bury the shadows, to lock them deep inside where no one could see. "Imagine a box," she'd said. "Strong, unbreakable. Put them there and never let them out."
For a while, it worked. Lila learned to smile, to pretend, to be the quiet daughter who didn't draw attention. But the shadows never left. They waited, patient, hungry.
"Lila!" Ethan's voice yanked her back. She was in the chamber again, gasping, her knees buckling. Ethan caught her, his hands firm on her shoulders. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, his eyes searching hers. "You went… blank."
Her throat was dry, her heart pounding. The child's silhouette was gone, but the shadows on the walls still pulsed, watching. "I—I don't know," she lied, straightening. "Just… dizzy. The magic here, maybe."
Ethan didn't buy it, but he didn't push. "We need to move. Vryn's den is close, but this place is crawling with traps." He adjusted the lantern, its light revealing a narrow passage ahead. "Stay sharp."
Lila followed, her mind reeling. The flashback hadn't been random. The Hollow's magic, raw and untamed, was tugging at her powers, unearthing memories she'd buried for years. Her shadows weren't just a gift or a curse—they were tied to her past, to the moment they'd first awakened. And if she was going to face The Veil, she needed to understand why.
The passage sloped downward, the air growing colder, heavier. Ethan moved with practiced ease, checking for runes or hidden wires, but Lila's focus kept slipping. Another memory surfaced, unbidden, sharper than the last.
She was ten, hiding in the garden behind the estate, the night air thick with the scent of jasmine. Darian had found her, his face pale under the moonlight. "You're sneaking out again," he'd said, not accusing but curious. At thirteen, he was already tall, his storm-gray eyes sharp with the confidence of someone who knew his place in the world.
"I like it out here," Lila had mumbled, kicking at the dirt. The truth was, the house felt like a cage. Her parents' lessons—etiquette, history, control—were relentless, and the shadows were harder to bury. They slipped out when she was alone, dancing in the grass, forming shapes she didn't dare name.
Darian sat beside her, silent for a moment. "You're different," he said finally, his voice low. "Not like us. Not like them."
Lila's chest tightened. "Is that bad?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he raised a hand, and a tiny storm cloud formed above his palm, spitting sparks of lightning. "This is what they want," he said. "Power they can measure. Predict. Yours…" He glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Yours scares them."
She'd wanted to ask what he meant, but footsteps crunching on gravel silenced her. Their father appeared, his face a mask of fury. "Inside, both of you," he'd barked. "Lila, you're not to be out here alone. Not anymore."
Later, in her room, Lila had felt the shadows stir, angrier than before. They'd lashed out, shattering a mirror, and when her father burst in, his fire flaring, he'd looked at her not with anger but with something worse—fear.
That was the night she'd decided to run. Not yet, but soon. The shadows were part of her, and if her family couldn't accept them, she'd find a place that would.
The memory faded, leaving Lila breathless. She stumbled, catching herself against the passage wall. Ethan turned, concern etching his features. "Talk to me," he said, softer this time. "What's going on?"
She wanted to brush it off, to keep moving, but the weight of the past was too heavy. "It's… memories," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Things I haven't thought about in years. My family, my powers… it's all coming back."
Ethan's jaw tightened, but his eyes were gentle. "The Hollow does that. Strips you raw, digs up what you've buried. But you're not that kid anymore, Lila. You're stronger than you know."
His words were a lifeline, but they didn't erase the doubt. "What if I'm not?" she asked, her voice cracking. "These powers… they're not just shadows. They're me, but I don't even know what that means. What if they're too much? What if I'm—"
"Dangerous?" Ethan finished, stepping closer. "You are. But so am I. So's Maya, in her own way. The difference is, you're trying to do something good with it. That's what matters."
Lila swallowed, her throat tight. His faith in her was a warmth she hadn't felt in years, but it came with a sting. She didn't deserve it—not yet. "Thanks," she said, managing a small smile. "Let's just find Vryn."
He nodded, but his hand lingered on her arm a moment longer, a silent promise. They pressed on, the passage narrowing until they reached a steel door, its surface etched with wards that pulsed with malevolent energy. Ethan traced a finger along the runes, muttering a counterspell. The wards flickered, then died, and the door creaked open.
Beyond was a cavernous chamber, its walls lined with shelves of glowing crystals—void crystals, their light cold and unnatural. At the center stood Vryn, a gaunt figure in a tattered cloak, their eyes hidden beneath a hood. The air around them crackled, and Lila's shadow recoiled, sensing danger.
"Hunter," Vryn rasped, their voice like dry leaves. "And the Shadowborn. I wondered when you'd come."
Ethan drew his blade, but Lila stepped forward, her shadow flaring. "We're here about The Veil," she said, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her chest. "You're supplying them. We want to know why."
Vryn laughed, a sound that echoed unnaturally. "Bold, for one so young. The Veil seeks power, as do we all. But you…" Their head tilted, as if seeing through her. "Your shadows are older than you know. Born of pain, of betrayal. Tell me, child, do you even remember how they began?"
Lila froze, her mind flashing back to the attic, the garden, the mirror. The shadows had always been there, but their true origin was a blur, a wound she'd never dared to touch. Vryn's words were a knife, cutting deep, and as they raised a hand, the void crystals flared, their light searing into her mind.
She was six, maybe seven, in the estate's basement, a place she was never allowed to go. The air was cold, the walls slick with moss. She'd followed Darian, curious, her small feet silent on the stone. He'd been sneaking down here for weeks, always at night, and she wanted to know why.
The basement was a lab, its tables cluttered with vials and strange machines that hummed with power. At the center was a chair, its straps worn but sturdy, and beside it stood her parents, their faces grim. A man was strapped to the chair, his eyes wide with terror. Shadows clung to him, not like hers but fractured, leaking from his skin like blood.
"Another failure," her father had said, his voice clipped. "The serum isn't stable."
Her mother nodded, her light flaring to blind the man as he screamed. "We need more subjects. The council demands results."
Lila had gasped, and Darian spun, his eyes finding her in the dark. "Lila," he'd hissed, grabbing her arm. "You shouldn't be here."
But she couldn't look away. The man's shadows surged, then collapsed, and he went still, his eyes empty. Her own shadows stirred, reacting, and for the first time, she felt them speak—not in words but in emotions, raw and overwhelming. Pain. Fear. Rage.
Darian dragged her upstairs, his grip bruising. "Forget what you saw," he'd said, his voice shaking. "Promise me."
She'd nodded, but the shadows didn't forget. They grew stronger after that, feeding on her fear, her confusion. And when she'd finally run from home at fifteen, it wasn't just her family she was escaping—it was the truth she'd glimpsed in that basement, the truth Vryn's words were forcing her to face.
The cavern snapped back, Vryn's laughter filling the air. Lila staggered, her shadow lashing out, shattering a shelf of crystals. Ethan lunged, his blade aimed at Vryn, but the dealer vanished in a swirl of smoke, their voice lingering. "Find The Veil, Shadowborn, and you'll find yourself."
The chamber trembled, the remaining crystals pulsing wildly. Ethan grabbed Lila's hand, pulling her toward the exit. "We need to go—now!"
They ran, the cavern collapsing behind them, but Lila's mind was elsewhere. The memories, the shadows, the basement—they were pieces of a puzzle she'd spent her life avoiding. Her powers weren't just a quirk or a curse. They were tied to her family's experiments, to the council's cruelty, to a past she could no longer outrun.
As they stumbled into another tunnel, Ethan's grip steadied her, but his eyes were fierce. "Whatever that was," he said, "you're still you. Don't let it break you."
Lila nodded, but her heart was heavy. The Veil was out there, and so was the truth. To stop one, she'd have to face the other. And for the first time, she wasn't sure she was ready.