CHAPTER SIX: THE HOLLOW KING'S HUNT

Orphiel's Lair – Nightfall

The scent of star-root stew and moon-honey bread filled the cavernous hall as Orphiel set the table with a flick of her wrist. Plates arranged themselves, cups filled with shimmering liquid, and the fire in the hearth burned blue, casting long shadows against the walls.

Kael (eyeing the floating cutlery warily): "Back home, dinner usually doesn't try to serve itself."

Orphiel (smirking): "Then your world is dreadfully dull." She gestured, and a spoonful of stew lifted to Kael's mouth. "Eat. You'll need your strength."

Nyssa (already devouring hers): "Gods. This tastes like victory."

Lirya (stealing a chunk of meat from Kael's bowl): "Mrrp." (Translation: "Mine now .")

Kael took a hesitant bite—then his eyes widened. Flavors exploded on his tongue, rich and foreign, but somehow familiar, like a half-remembered dream.

Kael: "This… tastes like my foster mom's cooking. How is that possible?"

Orphiel (leaning forward, starlit eyes gleaming): "Because magic remembers what you forget, boy. Even across worlds."

A heavy silence fell.

Then—Orphiel's head snapped up.

Orphiel: "They're here."

The market square burned.

Five figures in obsidian armor stalked through the chaos, their weapons dripping with liquid shadow. The tallest—Malrik, Veythus' First Blade—grabbed a fleeing merchant by the throat.

Malrik: "A young man. Dark hair. Strange eyes. Where is he?"

The merchant gagged, shaking his head. Malrik squeezed—then tossed him aside like rubbish.

Second Blade (kicking over a fruit cart): "The Regulator's stench is strong here. He was here."

An old man, hunched near a toppled stall, coughed. "You're too late."

Malrik turned, slow and deadly.

Old Man (smirking, despite the blade at his neck): "They took the Coven's Road. Headed for her."

Malrik's gauntleted fist shattered the old man's jaw—but the message was delivered.

Malrik: "Move. And burn the rest."

The Hollowborn mounted their nightmare steeds, hooves striking sparks as they charged down the glowing path.

At the fork in the road, the Hollowborn reined in their steeds. The left path led into dense, whispering woods, and the right toward a cliffside pass.

Second Blade: "Which way?"

Malrik unclipped Veythus's black compass. The needle spun wildly—then jerked left, locking onto the woods.

Malrik: "The witch hides him. No matter. We erase them both."

They spurred their horses forward—but the ground fought back.

Every hoofbeat sent up bursts of luminous pollen, swirling in their wake like a trail of fireflies. The trees seemed to lean in, branches creaking in warning.

Third Blade (uneasy): "This place is alive."

Malrik (drawing his sword): "Then we kill it too."

Back at the sanctum, the air warped with tension.

Orphiel (pressing a hand to the wall, eyes closed): "Three minutes out. They ride like death itself chases them."

Nyssa (stringing her bow): "How many?"

Orphiel: "Five. Veythus' elite."

Kael (clenching his fists, feeling the unfamiliar weight of his magic): "I'm not ready."

Orphiel (grabbing his face, forcing him to meet her gaze): "You are alive, Kael Darenth. That is ready enough."

A thunderous crash shook the door.

Malrik's voice (muffled but vicious): "Open this, witch, and we'll make your death quick."

Orphiel (whispering to Kael): "Remember—you do not command the magic. You ask."

Then—the door exploded inward.

Malrik led the charge, his great sword carving through the air like a scythe.

Nyssa fired—but the arrow stopped midair, frozen by one Hollowborn's raised hand.

Hollowborn Caster (smirking): "Child's play."

Lirya leapt, only to be repelled by an invisible shield.

Kael (panicking, reaching for his power—nothing): "Orphiel—!"

Orphiel (calm, even as Malrik advanced): "Ask, boy."

Malrik swung—

Kael (closing his eyes, finally understanding): "…Help me."

The Aether Mark erupted.

Time slowed.

The ground breathed.

And Kael moved.

He caught Malrik's blade bare-handed—the metal screamed, corroding to rust in seconds.

Malrik (staggering back): "What—?!"

Kael (voice echoing with power): "You don't take."

He pressed his palm to Malrik's chest—

A pulse of blue light.

Malrik shattered like glass, his armor collapsing into dust.

Silence.

The remaining Hollowborn froze.

Nyssa (lowering her bow, stunned): "…Well. That happened."

Orphiel (grinning, savage): "Now, children. Shall we finish this?"

The bodies were gone, the sanctum eerily still.

Kael (collapsing to his knees, shaking): "I… I didn't mean to…"

Orphiel (kneeling beside him): "Yes, you did. And that's what frightens you."

Outside, the wind howled, carrying the scent of smoke and the distant echo of war horns.

Nyssa (meeting Orphiel's gaze): "Veythus won't stop."

Orphiel (soft, grim): "No. He's just begun."

The remaining four elites staggered to their feet, their armor cracked, their weapons trembling in their grips. The Second Blade, a wiry woman with a scarred face, spat blood onto the ground and raised her dagger.

Second Blade: "You think banishing us will save him? The Hollow King knows where he is now. There's no running."

Orphiel (raising a single, gnarled hand): "Oh, I don't intend to run."

With a flick of her wrist, the air ripped open beneath the Hollowborn's feet—a swirling portal of midnight blue. The ground beneath them lurched, and with a collective scream, they were hurled backward, tumbling through the rift before it snapped shut behind them.

Silence.

Then—

A distant, thunderous roar.

The trees at the edge of the Veilwood shuddered, their leaves blackening as if touched by decay. The very air grew heavy, thick with the scent of burning iron and old blood.

Nyssa (gripping her bow, paling): "That's not just an army. That's him."

Orphiel (turning to Kael, her voice urgent): "You must go. Now."

Kael stared at her, then at Nyssa, his chest tight.

Kael: "I can't just leave—not when he's coming for you because of me!"

Nyssa (grabbing his shoulders, her grip bruising): "Listen to me. If you stay, we all die. The Regulator cannot fall into his hands. Ever."

Lirya pressed against his leg, her golden eyes solemn.

Orphiel (soft but firm): "This is not defeat, Kael. It is strategy. Return to your world. Recover. Learn. The Veil will call you back when the time is right."

Another roar—closer now. The ground trembled.

Kael swallowed hard, then nodded.

Kael: "How do I get back?"

Orphiel reached into the folds of her robe and withdrew a small, crystalline shard—a fragment of the Veil itself.

Orphiel: "Hold this. And think of home."

Kael closed his fingers around it—

And the world blurred.

Between Worlds – The Crossing

The journey was not gentle.

Kael tumbled through void and storm, flashes of fragmented realities whipping past him—

A battlefield where giants clashed with winged knights.

A ruined city, its streets choked with black vines.

A lone figure in a Chicago alley—Riley, reaching for him.

Then—

Impact.

Chicago – 

Kael crashed onto hard pavement, gasping, his body aching as if he'd been unmade and put back together. The sounds of honking cars and distant sirens filled his ears.

He was back.

But as he pushed himself up, his hands glowed faintly blue—and the air around him warped, just for a second.

Somewhere, in the space between breaths, he thought he heard Orphiel's voice one last time:

"Prepare yourself, Gatekeeper. The war is coming with you."

Then—silence.

Kael was alone.

But not for long.

Meanwhile – 

The Veilwood burned behind Veythus as he strode forward, his Netherflame blade dragging a trench of smoldering earth in his wake. His armies spread out around him, a sea of black armor and hollow eyes.

Before him stood Orphiel and Nyssa, side by side.

Veythus (his voice like a landslide): "Where. Is. The. Boy?"

Orphiel (smiling, though her hands trembled): "Gone. And you, Hollow King, are too late."

Veythus roared, and the sky split open above them.

The final battle for Eldryth had begun.

But far away, in another world, Kael Darenth clenched his fists—and the streetlights flickered in response.