They didn't make it far from the Silent Field.
The fog had begun to clear, but something in the air still felt wrong. The silence had weight to it, as if the ground was fondling with them.
Riven didn't like it. Neither did Veyla.
She stopped just ahead of him, her back stiff. "Something's following us."
He looked over his shoulder to check but saw nothing. Just gray trees and patches of ash-covered stone.
Then he heard something, sloppy footsteps.
But not behind them. Beside.
He turned slowly and froze.
A figure stood only a few feet away from him, not approaching. Not running either
Just… watching silently...
Its shape was almost exactly his height. Same build. Same stance, and a look alike blade
It even wore a cloak, though torn and burned. Its face was hidden under a twisted helm, metal warped into a grin. But the worst part wasn't the mask.
It was the way the thing moved.
Because it moved just like him.
He tilted his head, so did it.
He raised his blade, and it followed suit.
"What the hell is that?" he muttered.
Veyla whispered, "a hollow borne."
It didn't wait for them to start a conversation about it, it lunged forward.
Riven moved without thinking, dodging right, blade up, countering with a wide slash across the thing's side.
But the hollow borne moved the same way he did.
Same dodge. Same counter.
Their swords clashed midair, canceling each other out. Sparks flew. Both staggered back a step.
It wasn't just copying his movements.
It was mirroring them.
Every stance. Every twitch. Every breath.
He circled slowly. It did the same, perfectly matched.
Veyla didn't move. She knew she couldn't help in a fight like this.
Not when the enemy wore his shadow.
Riven charged low, feinting a step to the left, then cutting right, angling for the side of the thing's knee.
The hollow borne mirrored the same movements
Blades struck again, edge to edge and for a moment they were locked, faces inches apart. Riven could hear it breathing. Hear himself breathing.
Its blade was an exact match to his.
But older, cracked and worn out.
He shoved off and dashed backward, putting space between them.
"What is it?" he asked, panting.
Veyla's voice came steady. "A reflection of what was left behind. What was eaten out of him."
He didn't understand what she meant, but he didn't need to.
The Graveborne moved again, this time faster than usual.
A blur of movement, strikes flashing like a storm. Riven dodged. Blocked. Parried. Every blow was one he would've made. Every angle one he would've used.
Fighting it was like fighting his own instincts.
He went on the defensive, breathing slow, trying to find something it wouldn't expect. But how do you trick yourself?
The thing closed in again, this time with a spin-kick aimed at his ribs.
He caught the leg. Spun it off. Slashed for its exposed side.
It recovered mid-air, just like he would've.
The next exchange was brutal. Blades dancing in tight arcs. Elbows. Knees. Counters. Each strike matched perfectly, like a deadly game of chess played against a mirror.
And it was winning.
Not by much.
But it wasn't getting tired..He was.
The Rune hadn't flared yet.
That scared him more than the fight.
"Come on," he growled, parrying a high strike and ducking under a backhand slash.
He jabbed forward. Blade aimed for the thing's throat.
It twisted to the side and stabbed back, catching him in the side.
Steel pierced skin.
The pain hit hard, hot and deep.
He staggered back, clutching his ribs with his left hand.
Blood spilled out fast. His knees buckled.
The hollow borne didn't move in for the kill.
It stood there, blade lowered, like it was waiting.
Watching, mocking him.
Riven fell to one knee.
And finally, the Rune flared.
A pulse of burning light.
The wound at his side sizzled. Skin burned as the bleeding slowed. Muscles stitched back together. The pain didn't vanish, but it dulled enough for him to stand.
And now something was different.
His heartbeat slowed.
But his body didn't.
The Ash rose inside him, not wild. Precise.
He stepped forward.
So did the hollow borne.
They clashed again, but this time, he didn't match it.
He broke pattern.
He let his weight fall off-center.
He turned late.
He struck from wrong angles.
The thing faltered.
Just slightly.
But it was enough.
He spun low, slashing up from the hip, not a clean move, not a proper stance, but it caught the hollow borne in the thigh.
A scream tore from the creature's throat. Not the sound of a human, not beast.
It staggered back, and now its movements glitched. Twitchy and delayed.
Still mirroring him but not fast enough, anymore.
Riven pressed forward, pushing harder, attacking off-rhythm.
One strike to the elbow, its blade dropped.
Another slash across its ribs, cracks formed down its side.
He gritted his teeth and screamed, driving his blade into its chest.
The hollow borne reeled, flailing then stopped.
It's eyes wide.
It stumbled back, a soft moan escaping its broken helm.
And beneath the warped metal, for just a moment—
He saw his own face.
Older, tired, and afraid.
Then the thing collapsed.
Ash poured from its body.
And Riven stood still, breathing hard, blood running down his side. The wound had stopped bleeding, but it wasn't gone. His legs trembled beneath him.
He won, barely.
Veyla finally stepped closer.
"You're bleeding."
"I know." He responded
"The Rune....."
"It's healing," he said. "But slow."
She crouched beside the creature's remains, eyes narrowed. "That wasn't just a remnant."
"What was it?"
She looked up at him. "It was once a human, probably consumed to much Remnants..."
Riven didn't respond.
He couldn't because it reminded him of himself.
He looked down at his hands. Still shaking.
Not from fear, and not from pain
The hollow borne hadn't fought like a monster.
It had fought like someone trying to hold unto life.