Beneath the frost-veiled sky, beyond the reach of torches and spells, the Hollow King stood atop a hill of icebound corpses.
His form was more shadow than flesh, antlers of bone curling outward from his skeletal crown. The runes along his ribs glowed faintly, flickering like dying embers—each one a name he had devoured.
In the hollow of his chest: no heart. Only a swirling void that whispered with voices long dead.
He watched the distant lights of Vireloch—a defiant little ember glowing in a sea of cold silence.
"She is not like the others," the Hollow King murmured, his voice like wind against tombstone.
"The frost does not frighten her. The hunger does not sway her. This one walks with purpose… but all things break."
He raised a hand and pointed toward the gates. From the mist, dozens—then hundreds—of ghulain stirred. Twisted remnants of men and beasts, reanimated by his will, their eyes dim with obedience.
"Let her burn her light. Let her shine."
"When it dies… the darkness will feast."
The Dream of Falling Ashes
That night, before the first true assault, Zareena lay half-awake in the high tower—armor still on, sword near her bed, a dozen maps on her desk.
Sleep came reluctantly.
And in her dream, the snow was not white.
It was black.
She stood alone in a ruined version of Vireloch, its towers broken, gates smashed, its people gone. The bell tower had fallen.
Crows watched her from every rooftop.
And in the silence, she heard a child's voice call her name—softly.
"Zareena…"
She turned.
It was herself, as a child, barefoot in the snow, reaching out with a frostbitten hand.
"You forgot us," the child whispered. "You left us here."
Zareena ran forward—but the child dissolved into ash, and the snow rose like a tide.
In its heart stood the Hollow King.
"You cannot save them," he said.
"You carry too much."
"You will kneel."
Zareena screamed—and awoke with frost clinging to her lashes, the sigils on her tower walls glowing blue.
But she did not cry. She rose. She wrote a single line on her war map:
"I will not kneel. Let the dead come. We have fire."