Emberhold's cold was heavy with the muck of the Old World suffocating every breath. The great city clinging to the twisting cliffs, the haunt now, breaking to dust on the gale. The stinking streets choked once with warriers, merchants, and traders, now empty and filthy, save the keening wailing of Hollowborn down the streets.

Kael rested back against the side of his forge, hammer in hand and satisfied. It had centuries before it had wielded a sword. War hammers were memories of past ages. Nothing remained but cold metal bulk of past ages' fiery forge — sooted, upon which phantasms brooded of moments long forgotten. His hammer clattered on something metallic, one crashing blow shattering the silence. He was weary. Tired of the perpetual cloud that clung to him, tired of nite sweats that pursued him even on blinding sun days. His past clung to his back like a loose second skin, dragging him down step by agonizing step. But running from it there ever shall be, no.

The fire in the forge reduced to red-hot embers, the shadows in the room black and very jagged. He pushed a hand through sweat-slicked hair over his eyes, the trembling hand clenching the water pail against his hip. Too many years trying to recall, recalling out of memory the memories of the Ash War, friends and comrades slain by his own hand. But all his bluster for it all, the memories always managed to intrude, edging out from under wraps and twisting, hissing snake coiled and ready for warmly intimate provoking.

A thunderous boom the other side of town and his head jerked. Kael stood rigid, looking. It wasn't the wind.

A monster.

His heart crashed up. He knew the sound all too well. The Hollowborn were coming.

He set his hammer down on the floor and propped the dented, battered sword against the wall, blade battered from battle but still hard enough to slice through bone like paper. Too long, too dad-blamed long, since he ever even did fight, ever. Too long. Kael had not an ounce of doubt about one thing, though: if the Hollowborn were going to attack them again, then bad news. Bad big news.

Sword in hand, he quit the forge and the city streets. The mountainside was wrapped in dense mist that obscured the city from view in mystical night. His head bent, he shot rapidly and silently, the boots barely brushing the cobblestones.

He strode along the alleys and could see the bobbing lantern lights of the town guard in the distance, the guards' lanterns cutting through the darkness. And a pause in the bobbing of the lights on the breeze was teasing him. He strode more quickly down, his heart demanding he get out of it.

From an alley corner, he watched.

The Hollowborn.

They were no longer hollow things they used to be some half century ago. They were different now - intelligent, agile, and deadly. These Hollowborn crept in the darkness, cold eyes the only indication that they existed. They stumbled around, rigid as if they were constructed of less than human.

Kael's grip on his hilt closed harder. He steeled himself on a deep breath, ready, prepared to swing his sword. He'd killed the monster so many times he'd lost count anymore and knew where death to kill lay upon them as well as the back of his own hand. But before he raised his sword to swing, he stopped in mid-step at the whispery voice behind him.

"You can't kill them all, Kael."

She twirled, sword raised high. A woman faced him, half-concealed behind a hood of shining white so blinding it hurt to look. Too clever, too evil, eyes that gazed into hers cut a nervous path of uncomfortable up Kael's arms. He didn't know her and yet she was too serene for a woman who'd just encountered the Hollowborn.

"Who are you?" Kael demanded, lowering his sword but still keeping a cautious eye on the creatures.

The woman didn't answer right away. Instead, she glanced at the Hollowborn, who had stopped moving in their tracks, as if waiting for something.

"My name is Reika," she said at last, stepping closer. "And you're going to need more than just a sword to stop them."

Kael's grip cramped on the hilt with indignation. He couldn't fathom that this woman didn't have even a hint of what was taking place, and yet somehow he couldn't manage to keep himself from the impression that she was providing him a lot more than he was requiring of her.

"What on earth are you saying?" Kael barked.

Reika's gaze flew back to his. She took a soft breath, whispering in desperation.

"They're not alone at what horrors extend beyond. Something more, something which stirs."

Kael's brow furrowed up. "What're you sayin' to me?"

A warning snarled out of the darkness before she could say a word. A Hollowborn stepped into stance, its light-tipped eyes closing tight as it poured all of its will into Kael.

The woman's face twisted still tighter, and Kael caught something very near to fear in her eyes.

"We have no time," she answered in a rush. "Come with me, and I will tell the truth. But we can't delay."

Kael did pause, but for a moment. But whatever it was in the woman's voice, whatever it was in the words themselves, drove him on before he was stayed by sense.

He whirled again, sword aloft, and leapt into the darkness following her.

Kael trailed behind Reika at a pace of a slow stroll through the twisting streets of Emberhold. The dead-eyed creatures followed, unblinking gaze never for an instant shifting from vertebrae upon his spine. There was something unnatural about the stiffness — as though a patient huntress.

She moved as if she'd been here for a century, with such measured slowness. Kael would have learned to walk warily, but the seriousness of the situation outweighed his own caution. Something was amiss with her — an old, deadly something which Kael couldn't quite identify.

They spilled out under the arch that had groaned open for centuries above the Silver Market, where merchants had negotiated their wares for centuries. Now it was a shadow of what it used to be: upturned baskets, broken torches, and a reek of decay stuck to the stone like a plague. Reika did not think twice. She pushed through, looking down.

"Where do we go?" Kael asked, air tightening ever so slightly in his throat. His hold on the sword never loosened, though the Hollowborn had not yet shifted themselves.

Reika spoke nothing. She leaned against a weathered wall, resting on stone, speaking so softly that she was almost inaudible. Air was stirred, like ripples on the surface of a still pond, for a moment. Kael blinked, never certain he had.

And the wall creaked into motion once again — a concealed door rattling over a high wheeze. She beckoned Kael through the darkness in front of him, her own breath heard only just so.

"It's safe here," she whispered to him.

Kael stopped but did not breathe. He circled around the doorway, the chill of the underdark moving into his limbs as they moved deeper into Emberhold's secret passages. The passageway was dark and stale, with heavy mud and mold-scented air.

She led him to a little room whose walls were lined with bookshelves stacked with row after row of books and mementos. The room was obviously not frequented in decades. The only light was provided by some candles on the top of a rock pedestal in the middle of the room.

"What is this?" Kael growled, still not understanding. His head reeled. The Hollowborn had never been on the starting line, but now, on the starting line of it all. And Reika, this woman who'd rescued him out of the blue — as if rescuing him was what she'd planned to do all along.

She set him, her sharp face in her dark eyes confronting him. "This is where it all began."

Kael's eyebrow flew up.

"Where did it begin?"

The roughness of her voice settled shoulders so fragile by a degree. Reika's eyes relaxed, however, with a minimal unwinding of tension.

"The Hollowborn." She shivered momentarily, but smoothed over it with a flush in her cheeks. "They're not born disease. They were created — by someone. Someone seeking power. Someone who knew about old magic."

Kael's heart jerked twice. "Old magic?

She rested her head, her face heavy, her eyes far away, dreamy. "There is a reason Emberhold fell. Why the Hollowborn return and return again. And it's not the creatures. It's not what I fear."

Worse than that was the threat. Worse than the Hollowborn, worse than what she feared.

Kael leaned forward, trying to make out her slurred words. "What's happening?

Reika paced across the room and stood beside the table, her fingers tracing over the top of a dusty, old book. She drew it to her, the cracked and worn cover bearing testament to years of disuse. She opened it creakily, the symbols inside the inside pages jumbled in areas that Kael couldn't decipher.

"'The Core,' she whispered, her chest full of soft wonder. "It's an artifact -- a vessel of ancient power. But not ours. It's. something else. Something dark.'"

Kael's head spun. He was not hearing this — but legend, legend to frighten children in taverns, could not be. They'd told them they'd told them they'd told them they'd told them that they'd said the Core was legend, a legend to frighten children. Legends became real.

"And how does the Hollowborn stand in relation to the Core to start with?" Kael balled up, snarled.

Reika slammed the book closed and stood over him, seething with rage. "The Core produced the Hollowborn. They were its soldiers, its armor. And now." She spat out the words on gritted teeth. "Now, it's waking up."

Kael was unable to quell his bewilderment. "Waking up?"

She tilted her head, eyes smoldering with an even darker hue. "The Core cries out, Kael. Calling for the Hollowborn. And its master." She hadn't needed to remind him.

Kael understood. The one who controlled the Core controlled the Hollowborn as well. And with that kind of strength, they could remake reality.

This did not tell him, however, why Reika chased him. Why now.

"Why me?" Kael asked, his voice gentler this time.

Reika seemed to hesitate before speaking again. Her eyes flicked to the sword at his side, then back to his face. "You've fought them before, haven't you?"

Kael didn't answer. He didn't need to. The scars on his hands and the nightmares in his mind said enough.

"You're the only one left who knows how to fight them," she said softly. "You're the only one who can stop them."

Kael drugged Reika unwillingly through the alleys of Emberhold. The beast pursued him, death-gaze drawing back over unwinking stare. Rang through unnatural sheen an uncanny stillness — like waiting hunter.

She walked with an age of a thousand years on the earth, as if she had been here for eternity. Kael would have stepped back, but he could not. There was something dead in her — lifeless, deadly, and beyond the understanding of Kael.

She led the others through creaking on hinges for centuries under the gate in the Silver Market, where for centuries goods had been cried and shouted. It was an asylum now of what had been lost: up-turned baskets, broken torches, and stench of rot adhering to stone like an abscess. Reika did not linger. She pushed inside, looking down.

"Where are we?" Kael was gasping, his own breathing slightly worse. His grip on the hilt of his sword was firm, though, and the Hollowborn hadn't budged an inch.

Reika said nothing. She rested back against the worn wall, shoulders against stone, and so quietly that she almost whispered. There was roiling air, as if waves had swept across the surface of otherwise calm water, for a moment or two. Kael blinked, never quite certain he had.

And the wall creaked back into being once more — a secret door bucking on a soft hiss. She pushed Kael through in front of her into the darkness within, her own roughened breathing echoing.

"It's safe here," she gasped to him.

Kael stopped but did not breathe harder. He kicked the door open wide, cold from the underdark surging in as they moved deeper into Emberhold's secret tunnels. The corridor was dim and damp, with air thick with mold and grime.

She led him to a small room, whose walls were lined with mountains and mountains of bookshelves stacked high with books and souvenirs. One could sense that no one had set foot in this room for quite a while. It was only lit by some soft candlelight from candles that had been placed on a rock pedestal in the center of the room.

"What is it?" Kael snarled, his head reeling. Hollowborn hadn't, and now, where it'd begun. And Reika, the woman who'd pulled him out of thin air — like rescuing him had been a cover, something she'd had planned all along.

Reika moved closer, stern face in her black eyes keeping him in check.

"This is where it began."

Kael's eyebrow flickered.

"Where did it begin?"

The strain in her voice-laden words sagged the shoulders braced by an inch or two. But Reika's eyes shot wide open, rather, with relieving tension.

"Hollowborn." She shuddered for a second, then quickly covered it up by flushing out cheeky cheeks. "They weren't just a plague. They were crafted — by something. Something that wanted to conquer. Someone who mastered antiquarian magic."

Her heart did perhaps two jump turns. "Antiquity?

She shook her head slowly, her eyes unfocused, dreamy. "There's a why Emberhold fell. Why the Hollowborn come and come again. And it is not the monsters. It is not what I fear." More than that was the risk. More than the Hollowborn, more than what she feared.

Kael leaned in, attempting to interpret her slurred words. "What's happening?

Reika entered the room and supported herself against the table, following the rim of an impossibly dusty, impossibly old book. She drew it back to herself, cover creased and dried with age last it had been touched. She opened the cover, inner pages covered in doodles that Kael couldn't decipher.

"'The Core,' she said in amazement. "It's an object -- a repository of ancient power. Not the sort of power for us, either. It's. something other. Something nefarious.'"

Kael shifted his gaze. What he'd just seen couldn't — but legend, legend to scare children in front of inns. They'd warned them they'd warned them they'd warned them they'd warned them the Core was legend, a legend to scare children. Legends did, though.

"And how is the Hollowborn related to the Core?" Kael's scowl furled.

Reika slammed the book shut and glared at him with anger. "The Core made the Hollowborn. They were its warriors, its armor. And now." She spat the words out. "Now, it's awakening."

Kael was confused. "Awakening?"

She nodded, her eyes darkened. "The Core is crying, Kael. Calling for the Hollowborn. And the one who holds it." She said nothing more.

Kael understood. The one possessing the Core had utilized the Hollowborn. And they, with that kind of power, could reshape the world.

That did not tell him, however, why Reika was there. Now.

"Why me?" Kael asked, his tone softer this time.

Reika seemed to hesitate before speaking again. Her eyes flicked to the sword at his side, then back to his face. "You've fought them before, haven't you?"

Kael didn't answer. He didn't need to. The scars on his hands and the nightmares in his mind said enough.

"You're the only one left who knows how to fight them," she said softly. "You're the only one who can stop them."

Kael's head spun. He hadn't asked for that. He did not wish to fight a second war that killed him the first time. But the Hollowborn were no longer an idea. They were fact. And if Reika was Being Deceived, then they weren't even his biggest issues that he had to fix.

"I didn't ask for that," Kael growled, hands on hips.

Reika stood there, her mind lost in thought. "I do. You can't do that, though. We have to be in charge, or everything that we've been able to accomplish will be engulfed by the darkness."

Kael stood frozen, the sensation behind them sneaking up on him. The world itself was perishing around them, and they might be buried with only strife. It was not something he would never have, but to which he would have no access whatsoever.

The Hollowborn were merely the start.

The winking flames of the candles played macabre shadows against walls of stone as Kael remained bracing himself against the biting, cold dampness of the air. Reika's voice echoed through his mind as a refrain that refused to fade. The Core. To say even the name of it was to curse, an ancient and great one, far greater than any Kael had ever battled against.

He shoved his hand through his hair with one, his head reeling in bewilderment. He'd believed he was done when he'd murdered the Hollowborn all those years ago. Night upon night of murder and blood, the pain, the dead — they'd broken him. He'd attempted to shut them all away, leave them all behind. And yet he'd been pulled into this hell which he'd fought so desperately to leave.

"Kael," Reika's voice intruded into his mind, soft but insistent. She leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes on the ancient book burning with intensity that made him shiver. "We have to get to the Core first."

Kael's heart skipped a beat. "Who are 'they'?"

She would not even look at him. "The ones that have been tormenting the Hollowborn. They also want the Core. And they are more powerful than the beasts themselves."

Kael leaned his back, his fear creeping into his ribcage. He walked towards the table and noticed a book Reika was reading from. The hieroglyphs on the pages had his mind spinning just to read them.

"Who are they?" Kael insisted. His brain was racing, attempting to put together the scattered facts Reika had shared with him into some form of comprehension. Hollowborn. Core. Seeded power. "What do they need from the Core?"

Reika stopped, took a deep breath before speaking. "Power. Power. The Core is a power of an ancient magic that can transform the world -- for better or worse. Whoever he is wielding it will have power over reality itself. He can shape the future with whatever he wishes.".

Kael felt a cold sweat trickle down his spine. This was bigger than anything he had imagined. The Hollowborn were terrifying, yes, but this Core, this ancient magic—it was something he couldn't fully comprehend.

"So we're just supposed to stop them?" Kael asked, his voice sharp with disbelief. "How?"

Reika turned to him then, her eyes dark and steady. "By finding it first. The Core is hidden, and only its rightful protectors can find its strength. I've searched for years, pouring over the ancient maps, the rumors. But the closer I come, the more danger there is. There are those who would murder for it to belong to them. And you… She caught herself from speaking the words, her gaze flicking to Kael for a fraction of a moment too long.

".You are the key."

Kael's heart tightened. "What am I hearing?"

She set the book down on the table, not moving her face. "The warriors' blood who have fought the Hollowborn can draw on the strength of the Core. You've fought them, Kael. You've been attacked by them. Your blood contains something inside it that nobody else does.".

The words sting Kael like a blow. He had always thought he was a curse, an accident, born alive. He had never wanted to be tainted by the beasts. He had never wanted to be a beast-warrior. But in Reika's eyes, now, there is something more—something that makes him feel more than a survivor.

For the first time in years, he knew why. A reason that sickened him. "I don't know if I can do this," Kael growled, moving back from the table. "I almost died last time. And now you're saying that I have to kill an old power? A power that would change the world?"

Reika's face relaxed. "You don't need to go through this alone. I'll go with you, step for step. And together we shall find the Core."

Kael seethed, still griping with disbelief in his mind. "And what if you get defeated?"

Reika stood, her voice firm and unyielding. "And then the world will be black. The Hollowborn will come by score and conqueror, and those who will go for the Core will reshape all, burning to ash what remains of Emberhold and more. You have no other option, Kael. You must do this."

Her words loomed over him suspended like an albatross hung on his person. She was right — he could not abandon this one to leave walking away. Not now, not when this was carved on all of it.

He rose to his feet and faced her, his face hardening into resolve. "I don't know how to stop them, Reika. But if you're right, if this Core can do all the things you said it could. then I'll do whatever I have to see that it doesn't fall into the hands of people who would misuse it."

Reika's smile was fleeting and understated, but unmistakable. "Good. We leave at dawn."

Kael didn't have to be reminded where. The path ahead of him was illuminated. Prepared or not, his fight had already begun.