The Pilgrim arrived three days after the battle.
He came alone, walking across the corpse strewn battlefield like a man taking a Sunday stroll. His ordinary face was unchanged still brown hair, brown eyes, average height, average build. But there was something different about him now. Something older.
Lee met him at the fortress gates.
"You're back," Lee said.
"I never left," the Pilgrim said. "I've been watching. Waiting. Making sure you were ready."
"Ready for what?"
The Pilgrim's eyes met Lee's. "Ready for the truth."
They walked to a quiet corner of the fortress a small room with a single window overlooking the battlefield. The Pilgrim sat on a crate, and Lee sat across from him.
"Do you remember what I told you in the Sunken City?" the Pilgrim asked. "About dying there? About something bringing me back?"
Lee nodded.
"I lied." The Pilgrim's voice was flat. "I didn't die in the Sunken City. I died before. A long time before. I was one of the Sun Kings, Lee. One of the rulers of the Iron Dominion. I was there when the Shattering happened. I was there when the silver mother cracked and the Hollow King first reached into our world."
Lee stared at him. "You're three hundred years old?"
"Older. Time doesn't move the same way for me anymore. I've been... preserved. Kept alive by something that wants me to deliver a message."
"What message?"
The Pilgrim reached into his coat and pulled out a small, black stone identical to the one the Whisperer had left in Lee's hand.
"The Hollow King cannot be killed," the Pilgrim said. "Not by normal means. Not by any weapon in this world. He exists beyond the cycle of life and death. He is eternal. Unkillable."
"Then how do we stop him?"
The Pilgrim's hand trembled. "There is a way. A sacrifice. A trade. One soul for another. The Hollow King feeds on light on hope, on love, on the bonds between people. If you give him something bright enough... something pure enough... he will be sated. He will retreat. He will sleep for another thousand years."
Lee's blood ran cold. "What kind of soul?"
The Pilgrim looked at him really looked, with eyes that had seen three hundred years of suffering.
"The brightest soul," the Pilgrim said. "The one that carries the most light. The one that the Hollow King hungers for above all others."
He pointed at Lee's chest.
"Yours."