Chapter 8: The Hollow Pact

The night air was thick with tension as Eliam followed Seraphine through the dense forest. The scent of damp earth filled his lungs, but beneath it, he could still smell the faint trace of burnt magic lingering from his encounter with the Inquisitor.

The wound in his side throbbed, but he ignored it.

He had bigger concerns.

Seraphine moved with a purpose, her hood drawn low over her face, silver-lit eyes focused ahead. She had yet to say anything about her sudden reappearance or the power she had just displayed.

Eliam studied her as they walked. The way she carried herself now… it was different.

There was something colder in her steps. More deliberate.

And that unsettled him.

"Seraphine," he said finally.

She didn't stop, but her voice carried back to him. "We're not safe yet."

He exhaled sharply. "We were never safe. That didn't stop you from disappearing."

She flinched so subtly he almost missed it.

Silence stretched between them.

Then, she sighed. "You wouldn't have understood back then."

Eliam narrowed his eyes. "And I will now?"

Seraphine hesitated. Then, at last, she stopped walking.

They stood in a small clearing, moonlight breaking through the canopy, casting pale silver onto the earth. Shadows stretched long, twisting against the ground.

Seraphine turned to face him.

For the first time since their reunion, Eliam saw her fully.

She was still her. The sharp angles of her face, the curve of her lips these were all things he remembered. But her skin seemed paler now, her presence heavier, as if the air itself bent beneath her will.

And her eyes…

Those damned silver eyes.

Something had happened to her. Something that should not have been possible.

Eliam clenched his fists. "Tell me, Seraphine. What did you do?"

She held his gaze. Then, softly, she whispered:

"I made a pact."

The words hit him like a blow.

Eliam's blood turned to ice. "With who?"

Seraphine hesitated. Then, with a voice barely above a breath, she said

"The Hollow One."

Eliam froze.

That name he had only ever heard it in whispers. In the darkest corners of forbidden texts. A name that no priest dared utter.

The Hollow One.

A being that existed outside the divine and abyssal balance. A force that should not be.

Even the gods feared it.

Eliam took a slow step forward. "Tell me you're joking."

Seraphine didn't flinch. "I did what I had to."

His pulse pounded in his ears. "That thing doesn't make pacts. It devours souls, Seraphine."

She lifted her chin. "Then why am I still standing?"

Eliam's breath caught.

Because she was right.

If she had truly bound herself to the Hollow One, she should not exist anymore. She should have been unmade.

And yet here she was.

Eliam's mind raced. There was only one explanation.

"You didn't serve it," he realized. "You "

"I bargained with it."

His stomach twisted.

Bargaining with the Hollow One was unheard of. Its existence was an enigma, its motives unknown. No one had ever spoken of an exchange with it and lived.

Yet Seraphine had.

And she had come back different.

Eliam exhaled slowly. "What did you give up?"

Seraphine's gaze flickered. For the first time, uncertainty crossed her face.

"I don't know," she admitted.

A chill ran down his spine.

"You don't know?"

She shook her head. "It took something from me… but I don't know what."

Eliam swallowed hard. This was worse than he thought.

A pact where you didn't even know what you had lost? That was dangerous.

Seraphine might think she was free. But if the Hollow One had claimed something from her, she was still bound to it.

And worse… she wouldn't know when it would come to collect.

Eliam ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting.

"We need to fix this."

Seraphine's lips curved into a bitter smile. "There is no fixing it."

Eliam stepped closer. "There has to be."

Her silver eyes met his. "I made my choice, Eliam. Just like you did."

He clenched his jaw. "My choice didn't put me in debt to something beyond the gods."

Seraphine exhaled. "No. But it marked you."

Eliam stiffened.

Her gaze flickered down to his side where the Inquisitor's blade had cut him. The divine wound that still burned beneath his skin.

"You think the Inquisitor just tried to kill you?" Seraphine murmured. "No. That was a brand."

Eliam frowned. "A brand?"

Seraphine nodded, her gaze sharp. "Not just any brand. A divine marker. That wound on your side it's not meant to kill you. It's meant to track you."

Eliam's stomach twisted.

Seraphine stepped closer, her silver-lit eyes locked onto his. "Eliam, they didn't just send the Inquisitor to execute you. They marked you for something bigger. Something I don't think even they understand yet."

He exhaled, his mind racing. If what she said was true, then the Inquisition wasn't just hunting him. They were waiting.

"Waiting for what?" he muttered.

Seraphine hesitated. Then, with a quiet voice, she said, "For whatever is waking inside you."

Eliam stiffened. "What are you talking about?"

Seraphine looked pained, as if she was weighing whether to tell him the truth. "Eliam… before I made the pact, I searched for answers. For why the Inquisition was hunting you so relentlessly. Why they branded you instead of killing you outright. And I found something."

Eliam's throat tightened. "What did you find?"

Seraphine's voice was barely above a whisper. "The gods are afraid of you."

A cold silence stretched between them.

Eliam laughed harsh and disbelieving. "That's ridiculous."

Seraphine's expression didn't change. "Is it?"

Eliam shook his head. "I'm nobody, Seraphine. A fugitive. An exile. A man with a cursed past."

She took another step forward, her presence heavy. "That's what you were. But that's not what you are."

Eliam clenched his fists. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to believe it.

But a part of him a small, dangerous part felt something shift at her words.

Seraphine exhaled. "Something inside you is changing, Eliam. And the gods know it."

His mind reeled. He wanted to argue, to deny it outright, but he couldn't ignore the signs. The way his wounds healed faster than they should. The strange hum beneath his skin, growing stronger every time he fought back.

The way the Inquisitor had looked at him not with hatred. Not with rage.

But with fear.

Eliam inhaled deeply. "What am I, Seraphine?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "I don't know. Not yet."

Frustration burned inside him. He had spent his life running from a past he couldn't change, from a future he never wanted. But now, the past was catching up, and the future was pushing him forward.

And Seraphine…

She was proof that he wasn't alone in this anymore.

Eliam exhaled, forcing himself to focus. "Then we find out. Together."

Seraphine's lips parted slightly, as if surprised. Then, after a moment, she nodded.

"Together."

The wind stirred around them, rustling the leaves. The night was still dangerous, and the road ahead was uncertain.

But for the first time in a long time, Eliam wasn't facing it alone.

And whatever the gods feared whatever was awakening inside him he would face it head-on.

Because he was done running.