Hollow Mountain Photos Novels & Stories

I said, jabbing a finger at the map spread out on the table. Hernandez leaned back in his chair, arms folded. "And you can’t keep pretending that the south ridge is the only weak spot. What about the Hollow Pass?" I rolled my eyes. "The Hollow Pass hasn’t been breached in over a decade. It’s a natural deterrent." "That’s what people said about Moonveil." I paused. Damn it, he had a point. And worse—he knew it. His smirk was slight, barely there, but enough to make my pulse quicken. Not from attraction, I told myself. From irritation.

“Piano. Something slow. I think you played it once.” “I did. Before Eidolon, I taught for a while.” “That makes sense,” he said softly. “There’s something about your hands. Like they know both creation… and destruction.” That brought a tight laugh to my throat. “You don’t forget some things.” He didn’t answer, but when our fingers brushed as I handed him the canteen, he didn’t pull away. Small miracles. The Hollow was a concrete scar in the mountains. Once, it had relayed global signals through an array of underground servers. Now, it was dead—except for the chamber Paladin had marked in red ink. There, behind layers of steel and rock, lay a terminal unlike any I’d seen before.

Noah's photos were on the matting table in the center of the space, having not been framed by Nicole yet. Raven picked up the first shot, an eleven-by-nine of her from behind while she sat on the boulder halfway down the valley on their island. The mist in the background gave the mountains a mysterious quality. It was the pop of color that was most intriguing. Her black hair falling down her back, white snow dusting the ground, the red blanket-all mesmerizing.

And somehow, it did. I looked back out across the valley. Snow covered the mountains in endless waves of white and silver while the morning sunlight spilled across the highest peaks. A frozen creek wound through the trees below like a long ribbon of glass. The view felt untouched. Ancient. It felt like the mountains had existed this way long before Black Hollow was built, and would continue existing long after all of us were gone. "It's beautiful," I whispered, the words barely feeling big enough for the sight. Takoda stepped closer beside me near the wooden overlook railing. "My grandfather used to bring me here," he shared quietly.

The Hollow was feeding. By dusk, we reached the ruins. The air there was heavier, charged with the kind of power that made your skin crawl. Half-buried stones jutted out of the earth and were etched with old carvings. I brushed my fingers over one, tracing the shape of a wolf kneeling before a tall figure with eyes carved like suns.

Even the wolves pacing alongside the caravan moved with ears low and fur bristled. “Stay sharp,” Kael whispered, his hand never straying far from the hilt of his blade. “This fog isn’t just weather, it's a warning.” As they reached the base of the Highland slope, the fog parted abruptly. Like a mouth opening. They entered. The Hollow Basin was a wound in the land. A perfect circle of blackened earth, ringed by ancient stones etched with runes that shimmered faintly under the red sky. At its center was a spiraling pit, no bottom in sight, filled with a humming sound that was neither alive nor mechanical. It simply *was.*

I looked up and froze. "Sam? Sam Mitchell?" "Zoe!" My childhood friend, Zoe Cameron, laughed and pushed her glasses up on her nose. She pulled out her equipment and started examining me. When she saw the damage down below, she couldn't help but gasp. "Sam, that's pretty bad. But your tubes aren't completely necrotic yet. Leave it to me. There might still be a sliver of hope." I quickly pulled my pants back on and subtly wiped the cold sweat from my forehead.

The pain of the memories crashing into him was unbearable, yet it was mixed with the overwhelming feeling of reclaiming something precious. The two powerful emotions clashed violently within him, enough to make even the tough Jeffrey tremble uncontrollably. The first thing that emerged clearly was a mist-covered mountain with a plaque that read—Mount Hollowlight. Jeffrey no longer saw the hard asphalt roads and camouflage barracks of the military camp. Instead, endless green mountains shrouded in year-round mist came into view.

⸻ The Hollow was carved deep into the northern mountain, beyond the River of Bones, where even the bravest wolves didn’t tread. As they crossed into the cursed forest beyond the packlands, snow began to fall—light at first, then heavier, until the sky was a curtain of white silence. It wasn’t natural. Nothing about this place was. “We shouldn’t be here,” murmured Kael. “Then why come?” He glanced back at her. “Because if we don’t, someone else will. And they’ll use what’s buried here to tear us apart.” They reached the mouth of the Hollow by twilight. It yawned open from the cliffside like a wound in the earth, breathing cold air that reeked of ancient iron and magic.