Reverie At River Hollow Novels & Stories

Its light dimmed not into shadow, but into absence. No rot. No illness. Just silence. A local speaker named Venn called it “a closing eye.” Ari read the report two days later. Thalen merely whispered, “It’s happening.” And the Hollow remained quiet. Not in warning. But as if it were listening for permission. The next sign came three valleys west of the First Root a narrow ravine lined with mirror bark trees. There, etched into the face of a cliff, was a sequence of gestures rendered in mineral-stone:

Choosing her would’ve been suicide. So why did I keep seeing her in my dreams, blood streaked across her face, a ghost of fire burning in her eyes? Why did it feel like I had made the greatest mistake of my life? Liesendra by my side sat by the fire, humming a song I didn't recognize. Her fingers danced lazily over a worn page of an old tome—one of the many ancient relics her father smuggled into Winter Hollow. The red crystal pendant around her throat pulsed softly like a heartbeat.

“Fine, let’s drink… that’s right! I can still drink. I can still… drink, hahahahaha...” His laughter echoed through the inn but eventually faded into silence. Meanwhile, outside Crimson Hollow. A quiet stream flowed slowly past the city’s outskirts. Under the shroud of night, the little river seemed even more tranquil—almost chilling, eerily silent. A person crouched at the riverbank, staring blankly—whether at the water or something else, it was hard to say. There were no streetlights outside Crimson Hollow, so once night fell, this area turned exceptionally dark and foreboding.

“I saw her. Aria had Storm.” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. If I spoke, I’d taste blood again. Not the enemy’s but mine. The Hollow was gone, swallowed by the mist. Every memory we had there burned to ash. Now there was only the forest. And the sound of the river calling like a blade drawn from a sheath. ------------------------------------------------------- We reached the clearing just before dawn.

Ground turned to old grey bones of the world sticking up. The Hollow wasn’t a cave. Worse. A bowl in the hills where the wind went to die. The grass lay flat and colorless, like it had given up on green. The air smelled… empty. No sap. No rot. No animal sharp. My skin crawled before we even dropped over the lip. “What happened?” I whispered. “Rovan practiced.” I wanted to leave. I didn’t. At the floor, the threads found me at once. There were so many.

Riversane The thought, like a pendulum in Pepper Rei’s Mind Like a constant tic Reminding her of every passing second She could see every so often A lost wispy ghost wandering the streets Sometimes crowding in an alleyway Plotting nothing of importance Since they couldn’t focus much on agendas The closing dividers darkening their memory Like shutting doorways giving no way to haunting thoughts Of friends and foes, families and future Nothing mattered except for the longing to be someplace far Where no-one craved for the Hollow Night And the end was truly within their grasp Slowly as days passed

“So you abandon the Hollow? Abandon us?” “I abandon nothing,” Thorne said, calm as stone. “But I will not squander my power on foolish haste. Rhea is not prey to be culled in the dark—she is the storm that breaks the sky. And I will know what waits at its heart.” Without another word, she turned, her steps echoing against the cavernous walls of the Hollow. The firelight licked her silhouette before swallowing it whole. She was gone, leaving her sisters to their venom. --- The night beyond the Hollow was vast, breathing, alive with the whisper of old trees. Thorne moved silently through the forest, her cloak trailing like spilled ink. The air was colder here, heavier, as if each step drew her

And when she looked outside the window it was getting dark. The rain had become a steady downpour by the time Sophie's car crested the final ridge overlooking the valley. Mist clung to the trees like ghosts, veiling the landscape in a silver hush. Below them, nestled between shadowed pine and forgotten riverbeds, lay what locals only whispered about: Hollowshade Haven.

I could see Ian standing where he was from the rearview mirror, looking like a statue that had been abandoned by the world. That night, I had a nightmare. I dreamt of the day my sister passed away. I was kneeling by her stone-cold body while crying my heart out, with Ian and Lucy standing nearby and staring coldly at me. I jerked awake from the dream, drenched in cold sweat.

The sound of gravel crunching beneath the wheels broke the silence. River's gaze lifted, her eyes widening slightly as Thane's wheelchair crunched on the gravel path. The warm sunlight danced across his features, accentuating the tension etched on his face. Her hands remained buried in the earthy scent of the soil, her fingers curled protectively around the delicate stem of a newly bloomed wildflower. The gentle breeze carried the sweet fragrance of blooming lavender, filling the air with a calming serenity. "Thane," River said softly, her voice a gentle welcome, like the soothing hum of a summer breeze. The word hung in the air, inviting him closer.