Chapter 41 The Hollowing

Chapter 41 The Hollowing
Darius collapsed the moment he crossed the threshold of Ashfeld Threshold.

The black throne room echoed with the sound of his heavy body hitting the stone floor. Pain unlike anything he had felt since death tore through him in violent waves. His bone plating cracked and shifted beneath his skin as new growths pushed outward.

Rhen and Vael rushed to his side. Ossian followed more slowly, his ancient eyes narrowed with concern.

“Commander!” Rhen dropped to his knees beside him. “What’s happening? You’ve been unstable since we left that battlefield.”

Darius gasped, though he needed no air. His clawed hands scraped against the floor as fresh bone spurs erupted along his forearms, tearing through muscle and skin before sealing over with hardened plates. The mutation was accelerating.

\[Warning: Emotional resonance causing necromantic instability.\]

The System’s message flashed red in his mind.

\[Attachment to compatible soul signature detected. Synchronization failing. Continued exposure may result in permanent loss of control.\]

Another wave of pain hit him. For one terrifying moment, Darius felt something flutter in his chest, a weak, irregular heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Then it stopped as suddenly as it had returned, leaving an even deeper emptiness behind.

He cried out, the sound raw and broken. “Make it stop…”

Ossian knelt beside him, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. “This is what I warned you about. The priestess. Her Light. Her soul. It is interfering with your very nature. You must sever all interest in her before she unravels everything you have built.”

Darius pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. Bone continued to spread beneath his skin, reshaping his shoulders and spine into something even more monstrous. The pain was excruciating, but worse was the flood of emotions he could no longer suppress, grief, longing, confusion, and a desperate yearning that clawed at the hollow core of his being.

“I saw her,” he rasped. “She looked at me like… like she knew me. Like Elyra once did. How is that possible?”

Ossian’s expression darkened. “Because the Order played with forces they should never have touched. They bound her soul to that woman. The resonance you feel is real, but it is poison to what you are now. Cut it off. Forget her. Focus on the empire.”

Darius forced himself to stand. His body continued mutating in small, violent spasms. New ridges of bone pushed through along his back. His jaw realigned with a loud crack. The System continued issuing warnings, but he ignored them.

Rhen watched him with visible worry. “You’re falling apart, Commander. We almost lost control of half the thralls out there because of whatever happened between you two. You can’t keep doing this.”

“I know,” Darius growled. He staggered toward the black throne and collapsed onto it. The ancient seat amplified his power, but it also amplified the chaos inside him. “But I can’t stop thinking about her. The way she looked at me… it felt like coming home after dying.”

Ossian stood before the throne, arms crossed. “Then you are choosing weakness. Emotional attachment is a chain around your neck. Sever it now, or it will drag you into the grave a second time. We have an empire to build. The Crown is coming. We cannot afford a king who is distracted by a woman wearing his dead wife’s soul.”

Darius leaned back against the throne, breathing through the pain. The mutations slowed but did not stop completely. His body was changing faster than ever before, becoming something even further from human.

For several long minutes, the only sound in the throne room was his ragged, unnecessary breathing.

Finally, Darius lifted his head. His glowing sockets burned with new, dangerous resolve.

“Send spies,” he ordered, voice low and commanding. “The best we have. Track the priestess. I want to know where she goes, what she does, and who she speaks to. Every movement across the frontier.”

Ossian’s eyes narrowed. “My King… this is exactly what I warned you against.”

Darius met his gaze without flinching. “I know. But I need to understand what she is to me. What I am to her. Do it.”

Rhen sighed heavily but nodded. Vael simply turned and left the room to carry out the order without question.

Ossian remained a moment longer, studying his king with ancient, calculating eyes. “You are walking a dangerous path, Darius Voss. One that may cost you everything you are trying to build.”

Darius leaned back fully on the black throne, black mist swirling thicker around him as fresh bone plating continued to form across his shoulders.

“Then let it cost me,” he whispered. “I have already lost everything once. I will not lose her again.”

The Hollow King closed his glowing sockets, but the image of Seraphine’s silver eyes refused to fade.

Outside the throne room, the Fortress of Ash pulsed with growing power… and growing instability.

The resonance had begun its work.

And neither Darius nor Seraphine could stop what was coming.