Chapter 3: The Festival Flame
The Harvest Festival arrived with music, color, and a chill that hinted at the first breath of winter.
Lanterns swayed from every rooftop, casting warm orange light over the cobbled streets. Ribbons fluttered from window sills. Villagers in embroidered cloaks bustled through the square, their arms full of breads, preserves, and cider. Children darted through the crowds in masks shaped like foxes and forest spirits, their laughter echoing off the stone walls.
Kaela moved among them like a shadow. She should have felt joy—every year, the festival brought light to the shortening days. But this time, something was wrong. The wind no longer whispered; it watched.
She stood apart, leaning against the low stone wall near the old ash tree, her satchel still heavy with the strange leaf from earlier that day. Her fingers toyed with the edges of the fabric. Across the square, musicians began to play a lilting tune. The bonfire in the center of the square roared to life, flames climbing high into the dusk.
The fire mesmerized her. Within its golden heart, the flames twisted and curled unnaturally, as if forming shapes too strange to be coincidence. A figure with outstretched arms. A star breaking apart. A single eye.
She blinked and it was gone.
"You saw it, didn't you?"
Kaela turned sharply.
A boy stood beside her, no older than eighteen. His hair was black as raven feathers, and his eyes—silver, sharp, unsettling—held too much knowledge for someone so young. He wore a travel-worn cloak fastened with a silver pin shaped like a crescent moon.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"A friend," he said. "You can call me Ashen."
"That's not an answer."
Ashen tilted his head. "It's all you need, for now. I've come to warn you, Kaela. The Hollow Star is weakening."
Her heart skipped. "You know my name."
"I know what you are."
The festival seemed to fade around them. The sounds of the crowd, the music, the laughter—all distant, muffled.
"You have the blood of the Hollowblood line," Ashen said. "You're the last. The seal is breaking, and the Riven are stirring."
Kaela took a step back. "You're mad."
"Am I?" He looked toward the fire. "Look again."
She turned—and this time she saw them clearly.
Figures, blackened and hollow-eyed, flickering in and out of the flames. Watching her. Reaching.
Her breath caught.
When she turned back, Ashen was gone.
But the fire still burned, and the shadows had not vanished.
They were waiting.