The Hollow Residue

By the time we arrived at the barracks, the sky had darkened to ink, the stars splayed in panes across the firmament like broken glass.

The instructors were waiting. Ser Aldric, broad-shouldered and unreadable as always, stood with his arms crossed near the entrance. He did not change his expression as we dismounted, his sharp gaze taking each of us in.

Looking for something.

"Report," he said, gravel in his voice.

One of the other recruits was first to speak when he stepped forward. The village was deserted, sir." No bodies. No tracks. No sign of movement except—" He hesitated, looking at me, then at Asura. "...Something watching."

Aldric's face didn't shift. "Elaborate."

The recruit swallowed. "We saw a figure. No sound and subsequently no tracks, the perfect disappearing act. Just … watching us from the ruins."

Silence.

Aldric's eyes turned to Asura. She did not hesitate to take it.

"It wasn't human," she said.

It wasn't a guess. It wasn't speculation. She said it like a fact.

Some of the recruits tensed at her certitude. One of them — Varin, I thought — gave a nervous chortle. "You mean a ghost?"

Asura didn't look at him. "No."

The silence that came afterward was colder than the night air.

Aldric's face remained blank, yet something flickered in his eyes. Thoughtful. Calculating. Then, finally, he nodded. "Understood. Get some rest. The inquiry is ongoing at first light."

Just like that, we're cut loose.

But something felt wrong.

Aldric's reaction had been a little too smooth. As though he had anticipated this response.

Like he already knew.

...

I couldn't sleep.

The barracks were quiet, the other recruits' breathing rhythmic in the dark. My ribs burned from so much time in the saddle, and my muscles froze from tension I hadn't completely released.

But it wasn't just that.

It was the well. The mirroring that was never my own.

It had been the figure in the ruins. The way Asura had reacted.

The way Aldric hadn't looked shocked.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, then rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. I needed to let it go. Forget it. We were trainees. Nothing more. Whatever was going on — whatever this was — wasn't our problem.

So why did it seem as if it was only just beginning?

....

I awoke before dawn, the cold stiffening my bones. Sleep had arrived in fits and starts, leaving me more tired than I had been.

As I sat up and rubbed my temples, I heard movement outside. The sound of boots on dirt. Quiet voices, low and hushed.

I didn't think anything of it — until I heard the name.

"Ser Aldric said the recruits wouldn't be told."

I froze.

I was wide awake now, every nerve awakened. With great care, I rose, gliding toward the door of the barracks, walking on tiptoe.

The voices were close. Not far beyond the entrance. I pressed my back against the wall and listened.

"The ruins weren't empty," the voice said. "The signs were showing, just like always. But it's getting bolder."

Another voice, sharper. "Then why send recruits? They aren't ready for this."

A pause.

"Because the knight order has no choice.

There was something heavy and unsaid in the air when the words dropped. Then—footsteps, retreating. The conversation was over.

I exhaled slowly.

They had sent us there knowing that something was right.

Not just bandits. Not an abandoned village. Something else.

My knuckles were sore before I registered how tightly my fists had been clenching.

The order of the knight had been covering something up.

And I knew this was only the beginning.

....

That morning, I discovered her standing in the training yard. Alone, as always.

She didn't turn when I approached, but I could tell she had spotted me.

For a moment, I hesitated. Then—"What did you see?"

Asura's fingers ran across the hilt of her dagger, slow, measured. "What do you think I saw?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I think you kind of already knew something was there."

Asura didn't respond immediately. She absentmindedly traced the curve of her dagger with her fingers, as if lost in thought. Finally, she exhaled.

"There are things in this world that do not care for knights, for kings, for laws," she said in a low voice. "They hide where people stop looking. They wait, they listen." At last, she looked my way. "And sometimes, they take."

I gazed at her, questioning whether she was speaking the truth or simply testing me.

"What was taken from you?" I asked.

The grip on the dagger tightened, for a brief moment. And then, just like that, she released it, laying her hand against the wooden rail at her side.

"You're not as presumptuous as you think," she said.

I scoffed. "You never deny it, though."

Finally, she looked fully at me, those black eyes unreadable. We were both silent for a long moment. She turned away without answering.

It wasn't dismissal. Not really. It was something else.

Like she'd known all along that I would learn it myself.

One last thing before she left you standing there.

"Keep away from the shadows, Alarion.

Then she was gone.

I exhaled a breath I didn't know I was holding.

She knew something.

And whatever it was — it wasn't only fear. It was personal.

I had more questions than I had answers. But there was one thing I knew for sure.

This was only the beginning.