Chapter Thirty-Nine – The Whispering Hollow

Night fell without stars.

The forest had thinned, giving way to a low valley cradled in mist. The moment we crossed the ridge, I knew we weren't alone. Something ancient lived in the hollow below—something that watched.

"We shouldn't stay here long," Kael murmured, scanning the treeline. "This place… it's part of the Forgotten Web."

"The what?" Riven asked, sword already drawn halfway from its sheath.

Kael looked grim. "Long ago, the Thread weaves here were unraveled. Whatever still lingers isn't bound by balance or mercy."

We camped near a stream, though none of us truly slept. I lay with my eyes closed, pretending. But every time I drifted, the fire-girl's voice whispered in the back of my mind.

You buried the truth.

But fire doesn't forget.

It wasn't just her voice anymore.

Other fragments stirred. Emotions and half-formed memories flashed across my thoughts—battles I never fought, names I had never spoken yet felt mine, hands reaching for lovers I did not know.

"Sera." Kael's voice cut through the blur. "You're not alone in there, are you?"

I sat up, hugging my knees. "No… I think pieces of me are waking. Lives I've lived. Desires I've buried."

He sat beside me, close but careful. "The Thread never fully erases. It binds. Seals. Waits."

"Why me?" I whispered. "Why so many fragments?"

He was silent for a long time. Then he said, "Because your soul wasn't made to serve one fate. It was made to shape many."

Suddenly, a scream pierced the air—sharp, shrill, inhuman.

Riven was on his feet instantly, blade drawn, eyes narrowed. "That came from the river."

We followed the sound and found a girl standing knee-deep in the stream, her back to us. She wore a tattered red cloak, her long silver hair damp and tangled. Her presence sent a chill racing through me.

Kael raised his hand slowly. "Who are you?"

She turned, and my breath caught.

Her face was mine.

But older. Wiser. Colder.

She looked at me with eyes full of judgment. "The Hollow remembers. And so do I."

Before I could speak, she raised her hand—and shadows rose from the water like black vines.

Kael shouted something in an ancient tongue, casting a barrier around us.

Riven pulled me behind him. "Another fragment?"

I nodded. "The part of me that let go of mercy."

She attacked without another word, and shadows surged.

But I didn't run.

This time, I answered.

My power surged outward, not in fear—but in fire. Not as a broken girl running from her past—but as someone ready to face it.

I met her eyes, and I said firmly, "You're not my enemy. You're my truth."

The shadows wavered. The reflection trembled.

And then, like mist at sunrise, she vanished.

I sank to my knees, exhausted. The stream flowed quietly again.

Kael touched my shoulder. "You didn't fight her… you reclaimed her."

"I think that's the only way forward," I said softly. "Not war. Acceptance."

Riven helped me stand. "One truth at a time."

And as we returned to camp, I realized something:

The closer I got to the Loom…

…the closer I came to becoming whole again.