Within a Hollow Heart

Chapter 148: Volume 2, Chapter 92: "Tethers of the Forgotten"

The forest, though momentarily calm, was no longer a refuge. The air had grown thinner, colder, the kind of cold that seeped deep into the bones and lingered even beneath the skin. The Knot they had just stabilized hummed faintly, like a distant heartbeat, but its presence offered little comfort. Cole could feel the reverberations in the Veil—the pull of the void had not ceased, and every fragile thread seemed more vulnerable now than ever.

"We need to keep moving," Marcus urged, his eyes flicking toward the treeline, scanning for threats that were no longer hidden in the shadows. "Staying here makes us easy prey for the Severed."

Elara, still pale from the strain of weaving the Knot, nodded. "The Guardians' sacrifice bought us time, but the Severed won't hesitate to tear through this Knot if they find us."

Selene adjusted the strap of her pack, her movements stiff and cautious. "I don't like how quiet it's been since we left the obelisk. They're watching us. I can feel it."

Cole shared that uneasy sense of being watched, like eyes followed them just beyond the edge of perception. The forest, usually alive with the hum of insects and the distant calls of animals, had fallen into an unnatural stillness, as if the world itself held its breath in anticipation.

"We can't go far," Cole said, his voice steadier than he felt. "We need a place to regroup and figure out our next step."

Marcus grunted in agreement. "We head north. There's an old Guardian waypoint about a day's journey from here. It might be in ruins, but it'll give us shelter, and maybe more answers."

With a plan in place, the group set off once more, each step bringing them closer to the unknown but further from the safety of the Knots they had managed to mend. Cole's mind remained fixed on the voices of the Guardians, their desperate pleas still echoing faintly in his thoughts.

"Help us...the void...it watches..."

What did it mean? The void was no longer just a force of nature; it had grown sentient, aware of their every move. It wasn't just threatening the world—it was hunting them.

As the hours passed and the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the ground, the weight of the day's events pressed heavier on them all. They had faced the Severed and the void before, but something about this battle felt different—more personal, more targeted.

"You look like you've got something on your mind," Selene said, her sharp eyes cutting through Cole's reverie.

Cole hesitated before answering. "The Severed. It feels like they've been two steps ahead of us this whole time, like they know exactly where we're going and what we're trying to protect."

"It's not just a feeling," Selene replied, her voice low. "They've been tracking us. I've seen signs—small, but enough to know they've been close. They're letting us do the hard work, then sweeping in when we're weakest."

Cole's stomach twisted. "But how? The Knots aren't supposed to be easy to find."

"Someone's leading them," Marcus cut in from ahead. His voice was gruff, but the tension was clear. "A Weaver. Or something worse. There's no other explanation for how they keep getting to the Knots before we can secure them."

Elara remained silent for a long time before finally speaking. "There are legends," she began, her voice thoughtful, "of Weavers who became corrupted by the void. They gained power beyond imagination, but it twisted them, made them servants of the very force they tried to control."

Cole shivered at the thought. "You think one of those legends is true? That there's a Weaver out there leading the Severed?"

"I think," Elara replied, "that the Severed have found something—or someone—that knows the Veil as well as we do. Perhaps better."

The implications were too much to process. Cole's mind raced through possibilities, but each one led to the same terrifying conclusion: they were outmatched. Whoever was guiding the Severed wasn't just attacking the Knots at random—they were strategically unraveling the Veil, and soon, there might not be anything left to fight for.

The forest around them grew denser as night fell. The sky, once painted with hues of orange and gold, turned an inky black, and the only light that guided them was the faint glow of their torches. The cold deepened, biting at their skin, as if the void itself was drawing closer.

Suddenly, Marcus stopped dead in his tracks. He raised a hand, signaling for silence. The group tensed, their weapons ready, eyes scanning the darkness.

A low rustle came from the trees ahead. Cole's heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the last. He tightened his grip on his sword, his breath shallow.

Then, from the shadows, a figure stepped into view. Cloaked in darkness, its form shifted and warped, as if it were made of the very essence of the void.

"It's here," Elara whispered, her voice trembling. "The Severed... they've sent one of their own."

The figure moved closer, its presence suffocating, the air growing colder with every step it took. Its eyes—if they could be called eyes—glowed faintly, reflecting the dim light of the torches, and its movements were unnaturally smooth, almost fluid.

"Back away slowly," Marcus ordered, his voice barely a whisper.

But before they could react, the figure raised its hand. Darkness erupted from its palm, tendrils of shadow lashing out toward them. Cole barely had time to raise his sword before the first tendril struck, knocking him off his feet.

"Scatter!" Marcus roared.

The clearing exploded into chaos as they dodged the onslaught of shadow. Cole rolled to his feet, his pulse racing as he swung his sword at the tendrils. The blade passed through the darkness, but it slowed the shadow just enough to buy him a moment to regroup.

"Elara!" he shouted, his voice hoarse. "We need to bind it!"

Elara was already moving, her hands glowing faintly as she reached for the threads of the Veil. She wove them together, but the shadow was relentless, striking at her before she could finish the weave.

Cole rushed forward, slashing at the shadow with all his strength, trying to draw its attention away from Elara. "Over here!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the clearing.

The figure turned toward him, its glowing eyes narrowing. For a moment, the darkness around it seemed to pulse, and Cole could feel the void's presence pressing down on him, suffocating, overwhelming.

But then, with a final surge of energy, Elara finished her weave. The threads of the Veil snapped into place, binding the figure in a cage of light. The shadow writhed and twisted, but the weave held firm, the tendrils of darkness retracting as the void's presence weakened.

The figure let out a low, guttural sound—something between a growl and a scream—before it dissolved into nothingness, the shadows fading back into the forest.

Cole collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. The battle had been short, but the strain of fighting the void's presence had drained him. Around him, the others were equally exhausted, their faces pale and drawn.

"Is it gone?" Selene asked, her voice shaky.

Elara nodded, though her expression remained grim. "For now."

Marcus sheathed his sword, his face set in a scowl. "That wasn't just a scout. The Severed are sending stronger forces after us."

Cole stared at the spot where the shadow had vanished, his mind reeling. The Severed were getting bolder, their attacks more direct, more dangerous. And the void—it was watching them, waiting for the right moment to strike.

"We need to move," Cole said, his voice barely above a whisper. "They'll be back."