Chapter Seventeen: Cast Aside
The alley stank of rot and wet stone, shadows clinging thick to its walls. Fenrik still had the boy pinned, one hand pressing the youth's shoulder to the ground while his other kept the spear haft ready. Kael stood over the girl, her chest heaving as she clutched the stolen box.
Kael let the silence hang until even the dripping water from above felt loud. Then, with a flick of his fingers, the shadows binding his hands dispersed.
"Sit," he commanded.
The girl blinked at him, uncertain.
"I said sit." His voice cut sharp as a blade.
Fenrik shoved the boy toward her, and together they sank down against the wall. She curled an arm around her brother protectively, her body tense as a drawn bowstring.
Kael crouched before them, crimson eyes burning in the gloom. His voice was steady, heavy with power.
"Names."
The girl swallowed hard. "Elira." She nodded toward the boy. "My brother… Dain."
Kael studied them. Elira—his age, perhaps a year younger. Her frame was thin, malnourished, but her eyes were sharp, full of a survivor's fire. Dain couldn't have been more than fourteen. His defiance flickered, but it was mostly fear—fear masked by a child's attempt at bravery.
"You tried to steal from me," Kael said flatly. "Not from a merchant, not from a soft-handed noble. From me. Why?"
Elira's jaw worked, her eyes darting between him and Fenrik's looming form. Then she breathed deep and forced the words out.
"Because no one else would miss it."
Kael's gaze sharpened. "Explain."
"Our people—our neighbors—they don't see us. Or worse, they do, and they spit. My father died in the wars, my mother not long after. No one cared. No one helped. We begged for work, for bread, and they turned us away. Said it wasn't their problem." Her voice shook, but she pressed on, anger giving her strength. "So it's just us now. And when Dain fell sick, I had to do something. No one hires a girl with nothing. No one listens. So I took."
Dain coughed into his sleeve, muttering, "We just wanted to eat…"
For a moment, Kael said nothing. His crimson eyes pierced through them both, weighing their words. He saw himself—alone, cast aside, made into prey by the world's cruelty.
Fenrik broke the silence with a snarl. "Thieves and liars. They'd have slit your back if I hadn't stopped it. You should leave them to rot."
Kael didn't move, didn't break his gaze from Elira. "Is that what you think?" he asked quietly.
Elira flinched, but her chin lifted. "I don't regret trying. I regret failing. If I'd gotten away, my brother might've had a chance."
The weight of her honesty hung thick.
Footsteps.
A shadow appeared at the alley's mouth, bow slung across her back. Lyria stepped in, her silver eyes narrowing as she took in the scene—Kael crouched before the siblings, Fenrik standing tense with spear in hand.
"Kael," she said softly, though her tone carried a blade's edge. "What is this?"
Kael rose slowly, his cloak brushing the dirt. He looked at Elira and Dain, then at his companions.
"This," he said, "is what our enemies want us to become."
Fenrik frowned. "What are you talking about?"
Kael's crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light. "Humans hunt monsters. They kill without reason, without thought, without mercy. They cast aside their own as easily as they do goblins or wolfkin. That is why we fight. That is why we build." He looked at Elira, then back to Fenrik and Lyria. "If we are to be better than them, then we cannot mirror them. We cannot turn away those abandoned by their own kind."
Lyria's brows knit. "Kael… you mean to bring them back?"
"Yes."
Fenrik's growl rumbled low. "They're thieves. Attackers. If they try such a thing in our home—"
Kael cut him off with a raised hand. His voice carried the weight of final judgment.
"They will follow our laws. If they steal again, if they harm our people, they will be cast into the wilderness—or killed. Mercy is not blindness. It is a chance. One chance."
His words hung heavy in the air, shadows curling faintly at his feet like a reminder of the power he carried.
Elira stared up at him, eyes wide. "You… you'd take us? After what we did?"
Kael crouched again, meeting her gaze level. "I know what it means to be left with nothing. To be hunted for what you are. To survive when the world wants you dead." His crimson eyes softened, just slightly. "You are not the first. And you will not be the last. But if you come with me—you work. You contribute. Or you are gone. Understand?"
Elira nodded slowly, clutching her brother tighter. Dain swallowed hard, but whispered, "I'll work. I promise."
Lyria looked between them, then back to Kael. There was hesitation in her silver eyes, but also a flicker of admiration. "You would make a nation out of the cast-offs of the world."
Kael's lips curved into the faintest of grim smiles. "That's exactly what I intend."
Umbra padded forward, golden eyes gleaming, sniffing the siblings with a low growl. Neither dared move.
Kael straightened, his cloak falling back around him. "Then it's decided. They come with us."
Fenrik exhaled sharply, his ears twitching, but at last he lowered his spear. "If they cross a line…"
"They won't," Kael said firmly.
And in that foul-smelling alley, beneath the weight of the city's indifference, Kael Forsaken claimed two more souls for his vision of a new world.
The tension in the alley lingered, but Kael's word was final. Elira and Dain had no choice but to follow. Fenrik kept a wary eye on them the entire way back to the market square, his hand never straying far from his spear.
They returned to their stall to find the last bundles of herbs sold, the silver and gold safely locked once more inside the chest. Lyria oversaw the final exchanges, her voice calm but sharp as a knife, ensuring no merchant slipped false coin into their hands.
When all was finished, Kael closed the chest and slid it beneath his arm as though it weighed nothing.
"That's the last of it," Lyria said, brushing stray hair from her face. "We've doubled our stores in coin alone. Baldrek will be pleased."
Fenrik grunted. "Pleased enough to work without whining, perhaps."
Kael gave a short nod. "We leave now. The sooner we're away from these walls, the better."
Elira and Dain trailed behind, silent, their eyes darting constantly at the people staring back. Whispers followed them through the streets—at Fenrik's ears, at Umbra's hulking form, at Kael's crimson gaze. But more than once, Kael noticed the stares directed at the siblings. To the crowd, they weren't thieves. They weren't even worth notice. Just two more hungry mouths.
Kael clenched his jaw and pressed forward.
The forest swallowed them again as they made their way home. Sunlight dappled through the canopy, the path uneven but familiar.
Halfway through their return, the air shifted—sharp, wrong. Umbra stopped, golden eyes narrowing, fur bristling.
A shriek tore through the woods. Then another. A pack of harpies burst from the treetops, wings beating hard enough to stir the leaves, talons gleaming as they swooped.
Fenrik snarled, planting his spear. Kael's shadows surged instinctively—
But Lyria was already moving.
Her bow sang, the string thrumming like a chord. Arrows streaked upward, each shaft glowing faintly with rune-carved light. The first harpy fell before it reached them, an arrow buried deep in its chest. The second tried to swerve, but Lyria's second shot pierced its eye, sending it spiraling into the undergrowth.
A third harpy shrieked as it dove for Elira. Kael stepped forward—only to watch Lyria's third arrow split the air, striking the beast clean through the throat. It crumpled at Elira's feet, blood steaming in the cool air.
Elira froze, her face pale. Dain clutched her arm, staring wide-eyed at the dead monster.
Lyria lowered her bow, exhaling steadily. "Stay close," she said, not even looking back at them. "The forest is never empty."
Kael glanced at Elira and Dain. They were trembling, but their eyes were not on the monsters. They were on Lyria—on the elf who had saved them. Awe, and something like confusion, burned in their gaze.
For the first time, Kael thought, they were seeing nonhumans as more than beasts.
By the time the Hollow came into sight, dusk had begun to stretch its fingers across the sky. Smoke rose from chimneys. The timber palisade stood tall, watch platforms manned by wolfkin whose eyes gleamed faintly in the fading light.
Elira stopped short at the sight, her breath catching. Dain nearly tripped over himself staring.
"This…" Elira whispered. "This is… yours?"
Kael's crimson eyes glowed faintly as he looked at the gates, at the people moving within. Goblins hauling water from the well. Dwarves hammering at the forge. Elves carrying fresh kills from the hunt. All of them together, not killing, not hating, not running.
"It is ours," Kael corrected. "Every hand. Every soul."
The gates opened for them. Umbra padded through first, tail lashing.
Inside, murmurs rose as the villagers noticed the newcomers at Kael's side. The siblings shrank back under the stares of wolfkin and goblins alike, but Kael's presence held the crowd still.
That night, the council convened. The fire crackled in the chamber, shadows flickering across stone and timber.
Kael set the chest down with a heavy thud. He opened it, letting the gleam of silver and gold cast dancing light across the room. "The market was successful," he said plainly. "We return with coin enough to outfit Baldrek's forge with proper tools, to buy cloth, medicines, and seed."
Murmurs rippled through the council—relief, pride, questions.
One elder leaned forward, eyes sharp. "And the humans?"
Kael's gaze was unwavering. "They are cast aside by their own kind. Left to starve in the gutters. They chose theft, yes. But when pressed, they told the truth. They will live among us, under our law. If they contribute, they stay. If they falter, they are cast out—or killed."
The room stilled at his words.
Lyria's silver eyes flicked to him, watching carefully. Fenrik stood with arms crossed, tail lashing in irritation, but he did not speak.
Finally, Thalos broke the silence, his deep voice rumbling. "So you gather not just monsters, but men as well."
Kael's crimson eyes glowed brighter. "I gather all who have been forsaken. That is our strength. That is what will set us apart."
The fire cracked, sparks leaping upward. The weight of Kael's words settled into the room like a stone into deep water.
And though doubt lingered in some eyes, no one dared challenge him.