Morning never came. The sun rose only halfway, then dimmed to a dull gray. Lyra felt the fire‑mark on her wrist pulse painfully. Rowan ran to her house, breathless. “Lyra… the Hollow King has broken free.” The world felt like it was holding its breath.

At first, Lyra thought she had woken too early. Her room was washed in a colourless half‑light, the kind that usually came just before dawn. But the birds were silent. The air felt wrong. She pushed aside her blankets and crossed to the window. The sun hung on the horizon like a wounded thing, risen only halfway before dimming to a muted, sickly gray. It was as if the world had forgotten how to turn. She wondered, for a second if it was still winter, and all of spring had been a dream.

Then the fire‑mark on her wrist pulsed. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. The mark flared bright enough to cast its own light. Lyra hissed through her teeth. It hadn’t burned like this since the day had suffered the Sun Fever as a child. She barely had time to throw on her boots before she heard frantic footsteps pounding up the path outside. Rowan burst through her door without knocking, breathless, hair wild, eyes wide with fear.

“Lyra…” He bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. “Lyra, the—”

He didn’t need to finish. She already knew. Still, hearing the words made her stomach drop.

“The Hollow King has broken free.”

“How?” she whispered. “The seal should’ve held for a century.”

Rowan shook his head. “The Council doesn’t know. They think… they think he’s drawing power from the sun.”

Lyra stared out at the gray horizon. The sun looked smaller now, as if something were feeding on it. A cold dread settled in her chest.

“He’s waking," she said quietly.

Rowan swallowed hard. “The Council wants you in the capital. Immediately. They said you’re the only one who can track him.”

Lyra didn’t answer right away. She stepped outside, letting the strange half‑light wash over her. The village lay unnervingly still; no smoke rising from chimneys, no chatter, no movement. People stood in

Lyra closed her eyes. “We leave now.”

Rowan nodded. “I’ll get the horses.”

As he ran off, Lyra looked once more at the dim, dying sun.