13-27. Hollow
Ko’rien was angry.
Always so angry.
Even when everything was going perfectly, there existed a deep-seated rage simmering below the surface of her thoughts. It didn’t matter that her anger had no root. No reason. It simply was.
Such was the curse of being the Hollow Voice.
But that was when things were going well. In this rare case, she had good reason for her rage. After all, someone had trespassed in her domain. They had defied her will, and most troublingly, they had lived to tell the tale.
Which should not have been possible.
Had one of the ancients returned to punish them? Or was it just some clever monster that had put aside its hunger long enough to form rational thoughts? Had one of the traitors somehow established another Branch after all this time? There were a thousand possibilities, and none of them were good. None of them should have even been possible, which just made it all the more troubling.
Her anger kept it all at bay. For now. But she was still rattled. Still terrified that the anomaly would return. The way it had shrugged off her domain…
She wasn’t like the other members of the Synod. Away from her domain, which stretched across the Arbor Crown, she had no real power. Certainly, she was still a demi-god, and one who’d made some progress in her body cultivation. Against most foes, her mere physicality would have been enough.
But if that creature returned when she didn’t have the support of her domain, she would have no way of fending it off.
By all rights, she should have hunkered down. She should have retreated to the center of her domain and waited until Vaedren’s Silent Hunters tracked it down. He might even participate himself.
That would have been the proper course of action.
And yet, there she was, scurrying across the Verdant Halls. Alone. With only the Ring of Inconspicuousness to protect her. It had been a gift from her husband, an artifact earned by his father by conquering a Primal Realm. And over the years, it had proven to be infallible. So long as she wore it, she would be entirely undetectable.
But still, even as she passed from the Verdant Halls and into the Gilded Reach, her heart hammered out of her chest.
Because what if that creature returned?
What if it had never really left?
She had seen it turn into a bolt of lightning and tear across the sky. But it had gotten in once, and it could do it again. And it had already shown that it was coming for her. Why else would a monster like that enter her domain?
She hurried along. There was only one place she would feel truly safe. Lurien would protect her. He would turn any threat to ashes, then take her in his arms and…
Her thoughts trailed off, the anticipation replaced by a pang of guilt. Ko’rien knew it was wrong. Her decades-long love affair with Lurien put everything at risk. Not just her marriage, but the entire Synod. They’d never been without strife. They fought. They argued amongst one another. They jockeyed for power and played their little games.
But when the time came, they always stood together.
The ongoing affair with Lurien could drive a wedge between them. Perhaps it wouldn’t completely sunder the Synod. The institution would not shatter. But it would crack. And a single crack could lead to total destruction. If that happened…
She shuddered at the notion.
Even with everything at stake, she couldn’t stay away from Lurien. It wasn’t love. Not truly. Not anymore. Instead, it was only about pleasure, power, and possessiveness. On a dead world where none of them could progress past their current level of power, that was all that mattered. Each member of the Synod had reacted to that reality differently.
Some, like Ko’rien herself, had abandoned everything in favor of hedonistic pursuits. Others, like her husband, had retreated within themselves. Ever had he been the strong, silent type. But now? Now, he never spoke, and he rarely emerged from his cultivation. Only when necessary did he leave the Veiled Spire.
And necessity had never included paying attention to his wife.
In that context, it was not difficult to understand why she had sought solace elsewhere. If only he had acknowledged her needs, she might not have found herself returning to the ever-familiar territory of Lurien’s bed.
She might not have taken hundreds of other lovers. She might not have plunged headfirst into other delights.
Ko’rien reached into her pouch and retrieved a tiny vial, which she upended. A euphoric feeling passed through her mind, and she relaxed. It wouldn’t last long. None of the drugs were meant for people like her. But for now, she reveled in the effects.
Which was one of the reasons she never saw the creature coming.
A claw appeared out of nowhere, slashing for her delicate neck. Even in her drugged state, she was still a demi-god, and she narrowly managed to avoid having her throat ripped out. Still, the claw nicked her porcelain-white skin. Blood sprayed upon the stone street, splashing onto the nearby walls bordering the narrow alley.
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That was when she saw the thing.
The monster.
Scales, black and green, covered its body. Its stance was odd. Bipedal. But it looked like it could drop to all fours if it so desired. A crest of spines flowed down its head and to its back, where she saw a whip-like tail tipped with a barbed stinger. But Ko’rien was more concerned with the fangs, which were the size of her wrist. Or the claws that had nearly ripped her throat out.
She was so distracted by the creature’s predatory appearance that she never even noticed the all-but-invisible arachnids surrounding her. Only a moment later, she was swarmed by crystalline spiders. They bit. They scurried. They tore chunks from her body.
She dropped to her knees as a potent poison flowed through her.
But she was a demi-god. Even if she was a non-combatant, even if she lacked power outside of her domain, she would not be killed. Not after she’d survived for hundreds of years on an excised planet.
With a surge of strength, she ripped the arachnids away. The shattered like so much glass, but for whatever reason – shock, the drug, or just the clarity of battle – she found herself marveling at how perfectly formed they were. She’d heard stories about spiders, but she’d never seen one.
The closest she’d ever come was some mutated abomination with ten legs and even more waving tentacles.
But these were elegant. Terrifying, but oddly comforting.
Their venom surged through her, tracing a path of potent pain. More troublingly, the wound in her neck had begun to fester as well. Her flesh bubbled under its influence, and as she tried to shove herself upright, she stumbled.
She would not surrender, though.
With a surge of strength, she pushed herself to her feet, only to find that creature soaring through the air. Ko’rien tried to dodge, but it moved far too quickly. Her senses told her it was not a demi-god, but the reality of its power said otherwise. It hit her so hard that she felt bones shatter beneath its feet.
And then the claws bit into her chest.
She screamed.
She tried to bat it away.
She even attempted to grab hold of the comparatively thin ankle, hoping to somehow gain leverage. But it had been decades since she’d fought. And almost a thousand years since she had been subjected to her mother’s tutelage. She had been a fighter. She would have torn the creature apart.
But Ko’rien was well aware of just how far short of her mother’s legacy she truly was. Not only was she a non-combatant – much to her mother’s disdain – but she had also grown lazy. Complacent. She hadn’t trained in more than a century, and even then, it had been more about flirting with Lurien than in growing her skills.
That session had ended predictably – with something far more intimate than a mere sparring match.
Those thoughts – and regrets – pulsed through her mind as she failed to fend the monster off. Even as its claws bit into her, its tail repeatedly jabbed her lower body, sending densely energetic doses of poison to course through her veins.
Venom.
It wasn’t poison. Poison was ingested. Venom was injected.
Her mother would have been ashamed at her mistake.
The struggle continued, but the fight was over the moment it had started. And in the end, Ko’rien just stopped struggling. For all that she wanted to live, she couldn’t find a reason to continue the fight. After all, what was left for her? More pleasure? More drugs? A few more centuries of sneaking around behind her husband’s back?
Suddenly, her title seemed more appropriate than ever. The Hollow Voice, they called her. A reference to her status as the steward of Gorveth’s lone active Branch of the World Tree.
But to her, with her hollow life flashing before her eyes, it was even more fitting.
At some point, she went limp. Vitality still warred with the venom inside of her. She could have fought. She could have struggled. Perhaps she could have escaped and made it to Lurien. The Cinder Spires weren’t that far away.
In the end, though, she simply gave up. She gave in. She surrendered to her fate, regretting the meaningless life she’d led.
* * *
Elijah pulled away, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
He’d thrown everything he had at the woman. She had barely even struggled. Instead, she’d simply accepted her fate. And Elijah was well aware that it wasn’t because he was stronger than her. The initial ambush had gone a long way toward putting her on the ground, but he suspected that if she had truly wanted to escape, she could have.
Such was the benefit of reaching demi-god status.
It wasn’t like getting a couple of levels and a new class. It wasn’t even like progressing to the next cultivation tier. Instead, it was an all-encompassing, qualitative leap. And for all of his advancements, Elijah simply couldn’t compete.
Not really.
Perhaps if he somehow reached the sixth or seventh tier of cultivation, he could win a fight like that. But if he expected to defeat true demi-god enemies – and not the hollow sort that dwelled within Primal Realms – he would need to evolve his class.
Of course, he had no idea what level she’d reached. For all he knew, Ko’rien was at the edge of becoming a deity. So, maybe he would have had better luck against someone who’d just stepped into the demi-god realm.
It didn’t really matter, though.
He’d accomplished his goal. She was dead, and the Branch was unguarded. Now, he simply needed to access it, choose his evolution, and then escape. Afterward, he would figure out how his newly evolved class – and escalating power – would affect his chances of returning home.
Before he left, he searched Ko’rien’s body for loot. He found a ring that shimmered with ethera, so he took that. Otherwise, she carried very little on her person. No money. A few pieces of mundane jewelry. A small pouch full of gold ethereum. And nothing else, save for her ruined clothes.
However, during his search, he did find something disturbing. Her body shimmered and morphed, revealing a host of deformities. Before, she had been the picture of perfection, but in death, the depth of her mutation was obvious. Rubbery black skin, a few tentacles jutting from her shoulders, and a hunchback were the most apparent, but Elijah could feel just how twisted she’d become on the inside.
If he’d seen her outside the city, he would have assumed she was a monster, little different from the creatures he routinely encountered on the desolate planet.
Elijah just shook his head, pocketed his loot, and returned to the Shape of the Scourge. Only a few moments after he’d activated Guise of the Stalker, a dense wave of ethera swept across the city. When he reached the end of the alley, he saw people poking their heads out of their homes.
Confusion was the first emotion. Then, came the panic.
Someone wailed in despair.
Elijah darted away, concealed beneath his stealth ability. He couldn’t concern himself with people’s reactions. Not even when the Emerald Guard marched through the streets.
Instead, he focused on his destination – the Branch.
Along the way, he saw the panic become action. A fight broke out. Others joined in. The Emerald Guard descended among them, but they were too few to contain it. The violence spread into a riot, evidence of just how precarious the peace within Ithalon had been.
Elijah ignored it.
And soon enough, he reached the plaza. There were guards everywhere, standing sentry all around the Arbor Crown. But they could not see Elijah. Even when he passed within a few feet of them.
Finally, he laid eyes on the Branch.
Relief flooded him as he saw clear crystal.
But then, he saw something else. Something distressing, disturbing, and disappointing. His heart plummeted. His plans shattered. And depression set in, all in the space of the second it took to see veins of corruption woven throughout the crystalline tree.