The Hollow Tide

Virelya – The Whispering Docks

The tide rolled in unnaturally, sluggish yet seething, like ink poured into silver. Rowena stood at the edge of the Whispering Docks, her cloak clinging to her shoulders as wind whispered warnings in a dozen forgotten tongues. Shadows rippled beneath the water's surface—too slow for fish, too deliberate for current.

Behind her, the Flameborn forces moved like a breathing organism: healing, reforging, guarding. Kaelin had begun drilling formations again, the rookies sparring against illusionary projections Maerlyn conjured in the shattered remains of the amphitheater. Aldric was not among them.

Rowena's heart knew where he'd gone.

Below.

Down the obsidian stairs into the Wound of Flame—into the heart of Virelya itself, where the roots of his bloodline and the fire of his ancestors pulsed like a slumbering volcano. She gripped the rail as the horizon shivered. A presence stirred.

It had begun.

Aldric – Beneath the Flame

The chamber glowed not with light but memory. The walls, carved from ashglass and veined with emberstone, pulsed with every heartbeat. Aldric stood at the center of the circular arena, his arms bare, tattoos etched in light crawling over his skin. His wolf flickered at the edges of him—a mantle of fur and smoke, crowned by fire.

He was not alone.

Across from him stood a man cloaked in shadows. Not a beast. Not a creature. But a man.

His own face.

But where Aldric's eyes burned gold, this reflection held void.

"I am the cost," it said. "I am what you burned to rise."

Aldric clenched his fists. "You are not real."

"I am more real than you. I am every life you would have lived if not for the throne. The love you would have kept if not for war. The brother you might have saved."

Flames curled around Aldric's arms. He stepped forward—one breath from striking. But the vision didn't flinch.

"You cannot defeat me with fire. I am your fire, King of Ash."

The Villain – From the Depths of Starless Vale

Far from Virelya, where the Hollow Sea licked the cliffs of the Starless Vale, a gate cracked open in a cave that breathed rot. The Devourer's Herald stood before a fractured mirror of voidsteel, robes made of shadow stitched in bone.

She had no name. Only purpose.

"My king stirs," she whispered to the mirror.

From within, a voice rumbled like a dying star:

"Then the Hollow Tide must rise. Let the city of fire be swallowed."

The Herald turned, raising her arms. The sea surged upward—not in waves, but in shapes: humanoid, eyeless, armored in reef and hatred.

The Hollowed were born anew.

Kaelin – Virelya's Ramparts

Kaelin tightened the leather on his bracers. Beside him, Elowen lit another pyre with a flick of her fingers. Maerlyn chanted beneath her breath, eyes glowing silver as wards etched themselves midair.

A sound like thunder rumbled across the plains.

"What in the Goddess's name is that?" Elowen asked.

Kaelin didn't answer. He stepped onto the nearest watchtower, breath caught in his throat. The horizon had darkened—not from clouds, but from a wall of water, walking.

The Hollow Tide had arrived.

Rowena – The Docks

The first of them climbed onto the docks.

Twisted remnants of men—skin lacquered in coral and decay, jaws split open with barnacle-ridden shrieks. Rowena drew her twin blades.

The tide would not reach the gates.

Not while she stood.

With a roar, she launched into battle, a storm in her own right.

Aldric – Within the Flame

Aldric staggered. The mirror version of himself pressed forward, now shifting, wearing faces from his past—his father, his younger brother, even Rowena. Each step weighed like grief.

But something broke.

Not in him.

Around him.

From deep in the Wound, the flame erupted. Not just fire—memory. A vision burst forth: the birth of Virelya, the pact of flame, the original Alpha who wore starlight in his veins.

He saw himself—not just a king, not just a wolf—but a bridge between what was and what must be.

And he burned.

The shadows shrieked.

The mirror-self cracked.

And Aldric rose.

True Alpha.

Crowned not in gold.

But in memory, and flame, and choice.