Chapter 9: Elders of the Forgotten
The air in the chamber felt thicker now, as though the weight of ancient secrets hung heavy over Lena's every breath. She stood alone at the edge of the pool, the flickering light of the stranger's lantern casting long, distorted shadows across the stone floor. The Hollow Ones had fallen silent, their hollow eyes boring into her, as if they too waited for her decision.
Lena's mind was a blur of uncertainty. The Ritual of Returning—a sacrifice demanded to stop the Hollow Sky—seemed the only way to seal the awakening, but there was something wrong. Something in the stranger's words, in the way the Hollow Ones stared at her, unsettled her to her core. The stranger's promise that she was the key, that she was the one who could stop the coming darkness, had been too simple, too direct. She could feel that the path she was on led toward an end that was much worse than even the Hollow Ones.
As she stood there, her gaze fixed on the water, Lena realized she could no longer trust the stranger—or anyone, for that matter. If there was any hope left, it wasn't in the ritual. It wasn't in sacrificing someone close to her. She needed to find another way. But how?
Without thinking, she turned from the pool, her mind set on escaping the grasp of the Hollow Ones and their ever-present gaze. She had to find answers—answers that could lead her to a way to stop this madness.
The stranger, who had been watching her in silence, suddenly spoke. "You are wasting time, Lena. The Hollow Sky will not wait for your hesitation." His voice was calm, but it carried an undeniable edge, like a blade in the dark.
Lena felt a surge of defiance rise within her. She was done being a pawn in some ancient game. "I won't do it," she said, her voice steady now. "I won't sacrifice anyone for this. I will find another way."
The stranger's eyes narrowed, a flicker of annoyance passing through his dark gaze. "Then you are a fool." But his tone shifted, becoming almost contemplative. "Perhaps… there is one who can show you the truth. But you will not like what you find."
Lena frowned, confused. "Who?"
The stranger gave her a small, enigmatic smile. "The Elders of the Forgotten. They are the last remnants of those who once opposed the Hollow Sky, the ones who first understood its power. They are hidden, but they know things—things that even I do not. Go to them, if you must, but know this: once you find them, there is no going back. Their knowledge comes at a cost."
Lena hesitated. The name Elders of the Forgotten sent a shiver down her spine. She had heard of them in the old stories, whispered among scholars and wanderers—a group of ancient beings who had once stood against the Hollow Sky. They were said to be as old as the mountains themselves, having lived for countless lifetimes. But they had vanished centuries ago, lost to time, shrouded in myth. Were they real? Could they really help her?
"Where do I find them?" she asked, her voice steady despite the uncertainty that coiled in her stomach.
The stranger's smile faded, and his expression became grim. "Follow the path that leads deeper into the heart of Ashenreach. Beyond the reach of the Hollow Ones, beyond where even I can go. The Elders have kept themselves hidden for a reason. They will not welcome you. But if you persist, they will speak."
Lena's heart pounded as she glanced at the Hollow Ones, still watching her with their unblinking, hollow eyes. The ritual, the sacrifice—it all seemed like an illusion, a twisted game to control her. She couldn't go through with it. She had to find another way, and perhaps the Elders of the Forgotten held the answers she so desperately needed.
"I'll go," Lena said, her voice firm. She didn't wait for the stranger's response, turning quickly on her heel and making her way toward the tunnel. Behind her, the Hollow Ones stirred, their unsettling whispers rising in the air, but she pushed forward, determined to find the answers that would end this nightmare.
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The tunnels grew narrower as she moved deeper into Ashenreach. The flickering light from the stranger's lantern faded behind her, leaving her in darkness. But the darkness didn't feel empty. It was as though the walls themselves were watching, listening, waiting. The deeper she went, the more she could feel something ancient stirring—something restless, almost aware of her presence.
For hours, she traversed the winding corridors, the air thickening with each step. The deeper she ventured into the heart of Ashenreach, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The walls were etched with strange symbols, faintly glowing with a dull, sickly light. Lena couldn't decipher them, but she felt their weight, their significance. Whatever lay ahead, she knew the Elders were waiting for her.
Suddenly, the passage widened, and the oppressive weight of the air lessened, just slightly. Before her stood a massive, arched doorway—an entrance that had been hidden beneath centuries of stone and dust. The symbols that lined the doorway pulsed softly, as if alive, glowing faintly in the gloom.
Lena hesitated for a moment. The air here felt different, like the threshold of another world. She could feel the pressure of centuries of silence pressing in on her, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if she had made the right choice. But the question was irrelevant now. There was no turning back.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the doorway.
Inside, the world changed.
The air was thick with the scent of aged incense, and the room beyond was bathed in a dim, ethereal glow. The walls were lined with towering shelves, each stacked with ancient scrolls and artifacts—an archive of knowledge older than any living being. The center of the room was dominated by a massive stone altar, its surface covered with intricate carvings of stars, moons, and strange, unfamiliar constellations.
But what caught Lena's attention most were the figures standing around the altar—three in total. They were tall, gaunt, their features shrouded by robes of deepest black, with hoods that obscured their faces. The only part of them that seemed visible were their hands—skeletal, aged beyond measure, but still moving with the quiet grace of something timeless.
The Elders.
Lena felt a chill sweep through her as she approached the altar. She could sense their gaze even though their faces were hidden, and the weight of their scrutiny made her heart pound in her chest. She had come to them for answers, but now that she was here, doubt gnawed at her.
The tallest of the Elders stepped forward, his hands resting lightly on the altar. His voice was like the rustle of old parchment, deep and heavy with the weight of centuries. "You seek knowledge, child of the Hollow Sky," he said. "But you do not understand what you ask."
Lena swallowed, forcing herself to speak. "I need to know how to stop it—the Hollow Sky. The Hollow Ones. The Ritual of Returning. There must be another way."
The Elder tilted his head, and for a brief moment, Lena thought she saw his eyes glimmer beneath the hood. "There is no other way. The Hollow Sky must return. It is the way of the world. All things must end so that new things may arise. But there is a choice."
Lena's heart skipped a beat. "A choice?"
The Elder's voice grew colder. "The Hollow Sky feeds on sacrifice, but the sacrifice does not need to be yours alone. There are other paths, but they will cost more than you can imagine. The Hollow Ones are not the only servants of the Sky. They are the first."
Lena's mind raced. "What does that mean?"
The Elder raised a skeletal hand, and the room seemed to shudder. "The Hollow Ones are the heralds of the true storm. There are other servants—beings far older, far more powerful. The Hollow Sky will awaken them, and they will rise. Do not think that your actions will stop this. You are too late."
A dark weight filled the room, and Lena felt the gravity of the Elder's words like a stone pressing against her chest. The Hollow Sky was more than just the creatures she had seen. It was an entity—an ancient force that had been waiting, biding its time.
And now, it was almost free.