The Hollow Hills loomed before them like ancient sentinels, jagged and gray against the night sky. Even from a distance, Lyra could feel the stillness in the air—a silence so deep it felt unnatural. No insects. No wind. Just the pulse of the moonlight in her chest and the crunch of their boots on brittle ground.
Kael stood beside her, silent, scanning the cliffs. "The circle's somewhere near the peak," he said. "I saw it once, a long time ago. But back then… it didn't call like this."
Lyra nodded, her fingers tightening on her staff. "It's awake now."
Together, they began the climb.
The path was narrow and winding, overgrown with dead vines and crumbling stone. Halfway up, they found ancient markings—runes carved into the rock face, similar to those from the first circle. But here, they were cracked and burned, as though scorched by something dark.
Lyra paused, pressing her palm to the stone. The runes sparked faintly, then flickered out.
"The magic here is damaged," she whispered. "Wounded."
Kael glanced at her. "Can you fix it?"
"I have to."
At the summit, the ruins revealed themselves fully.
The second circle sat sunken in the earth, its once-beautiful pillars broken and scattered like bones. Black vines choked the stone, and in the center of the circle stood a twisted totem—a relic that didn't belong. It pulsed with a sickly crimson glow.
Lyra took a shaky step forward. The pull in her chest grew heavier.
"That thing," Kael muttered, staring at the totem. "It wasn't there before."
"No," Lyra said. "It's from the Crimson Moon. A corruption anchor."
Kael drew his blade. "Can we destroy it?"
Lyra stepped into the circle, her staff glowing. "We have to cleanse it. Not just break it—cleanse the root of its magic."
She knelt beside the circle's heartstone—faintly glowing under the corruption.
Closing her eyes, she let the moonlight in.
The wind swirled around her, lifting her hair. The pendant flared.
She began to sing—low and soft, a melody of memory and mending. The same one that had awakened the first circle, but now laced with sorrow. The song of a healer trying to soothe a wound older than time.
The vines recoiled. The totem trembled.
The darkness resisted.
It screamed.
Suddenly, the wind turned violent. A shockwave burst from the totem, throwing Kael off his feet. Lyra held firm, tears streaming down her face as the earth cracked around her.
"Come back to me," she whispered to the circle. "Remember who you are."
The runes glowed.
The stone pulsed.
A blinding flash erupted from the heartstone, engulfing the totem in pure silver fire.
The corruption howled.
Then—silence.
When the light faded, the totem was gone.
And the circle… was whole.
Kael approached slowly, brushing soot from his cloak. "Are you all right?"
Lyra stood, swaying slightly. "It worked."
The stones now shimmered gently with silver light, the runes softly glowing. The balance here had been restored—at least for now.
Kael looked around, awe in his voice. "So that's two."
Lyra nodded. "Two more to go."
He frowned. "And whatever's chasing the light you leave behind… it's probably getting stronger too."
"I know," Lyra said. "That's why we can't stop."
She turned to the newly healed circle and placed her hand on the heartstone.
Another vision surged through her—a brief flicker, like a memory not her own.
A city drowned in moonlight. A throne made of crystal. And a girl with golden eyes standing in fire, whispering her name.
When the vision faded, Lyra gasped, staggering back.
Kael caught her. "What did you see?"
"Someone else," she whispered. "Another like me. But she's… she's burning."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Then we find her."
Lyra met his eyes.
"We will."