Chapter Seventy Four: The Shape of Chaos
The morning after Selindra's burial was unnaturally still. No birds sang, no rustling deer wandered near the Hollow's walls. It was as if the forest itself lingered in awe—or fear—of what had been unleashed the night before.
Kael stood at the edge of a clearing outside the Hollow, the ground frosted in pale white. Lyria and Druaka stood with him, their breath visible in the cold air. Neither spoke at first; they simply watched him, waiting.
Kael exhaled slowly. Shadows coiled at his feet, embers flickered across his shoulders, and then—something else. A ripple in the air. Mana itself seemed to bend under his will, folding like cloth. The ground beneath him glowed faintly, veins of light spiderwebbing outward as though the earth itself was waking.
Druaka broke the silence, her deep voice tinged with awe. "The council fears this."
Kael glanced at her, his eyes catching the faint glimmer of chaos fire. "They should," he admitted. "Chaos is destruction. Creation. Unpredictable. If I lose control, it could tear everything apart."
Lyria frowned, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her sword. "They don't trust you, Kael. They trust what you've done for them, yes. But this… this is something else entirely. They fear what you might become."
Kael's lips curved into something between a smile and a grimace. "Then I'll show them what I am. Not what I could be if I failed."
He lifted a hand. The shadows thickened like tar, twisting with fire. The air shimmered, bent, then tore like parchment. Out of the rift came a shape—massive and monstrous.
A wolf, tall as a horse, its body stitched together from shadow and chaos-flame. Its eyes burned a violent gold. The beast snarled once, shaking the earth with its weight.
Lyria tensed, blade half-drawn. Druaka's stance shifted, her body ready to move.
But Kael only raised his hand higher, his gaze calm. "Kneel."
The beast froze. Its golden eyes locked on his, and then, with unnatural obedience, it lowered itself to the ground, its massive head bowing before him.
Not a flicker of rebellion. Not a hint of struggle. Only perfect control.
Kael's voice was quiet, but the weight of it pressed against them like a storm. "The council sees danger. They see fire that will burn them. But I see a forge. Power doesn't need to consume—it can refine, reshape."
He released the construct, and the wolf dissolved into motes of shadow and sparks, vanishing like smoke in the wind.
For a long moment, only the sound of breathing filled the clearing.
Druaka finally spoke, her voice softer than they'd ever heard it. "You wield it like it was born in you. No hesitation. No fear."
Kael turned to her, then to Lyria, his eyes sharp. "That's what I need them to see. That chaos bends to me. That it doesn't rule me. They don't have to fear this power—they have to fear what would happen if I didn't use it."
Lyria sheathed her blade slowly, her expression tight but admiring. "Then we stand by you. But you'll need more than control—you'll need wisdom. To know when not to use it."
Kael nodded once. "I know."
His gaze lifted toward the Hollow in the distance, smoke curling gently from chimneys, people bustling about even in the cold. His people.
"I won't let this power make me into something they fear. I'll make it into something they trust."
The words were firm. But as the cold air bit against them, all three knew the truth: chaos was no simple weapon. It was the kind of power that could change the shape of kingdoms.
And Kael had only just begun to wield it.
The great hall was heavy with firelight, the logs in the hearth crackling as snow drifted against the windows. The council had gathered in full, their faces drawn and tense, the air thick with unease.
Kael stood at the head of the table, his shadow stretching long across the stone floor. Lyria sat to his right, Druaka to his left. Thalos, Fenrik, and the others watched him with wary eyes.
He wasted no time. "I'm taking a small party to the nearest kingdom."
The words struck the chamber like a hammer.
Fenrik leaned forward immediately, his wolfish eyes narrowing. "What madness is this? Why walk into their lands when they're already suspicious of us? Why risk exposing yourself, and us, to their schemes?"
The dwarven elder slammed a thick hand on the table. "Aye! You're our strength, Kael. Our shield. We can't afford you wandering off into human territory chasing answers. You'd put us all at risk."
Kael's gaze didn't waver. His voice was low, steady, but carried the weight of stone. "It's necessary."
"Necessary?" Thalos barked. "You carry the strength of gods already, Kael. Shadows, fire, and now this… chaos. What more do you need?"
Kael let the silence hang before he answered. His eyes burned faintly with that dangerous new light. "Because you fear me."
The table fell silent. Even the crackling fire seemed to pause.
Kael took a step closer, his voice like iron. "You can deny it if you wish, but I see it in your eyes. Every one of you. You fear what I've become. What I could become if I lose control. And you're right to."
Lyria's hand brushed the table, her lips parting as though to speak, but she held her tongue, letting him continue.
Kael's gaze swept the council, pinning each member in place. "If I don't understand this power, if I don't learn what it truly is, then I'm as dangerous to you as I am to our enemies. I refuse to lead my people as a weapon I barely control."
His words hit harder than any blow. The council exchanged glances, unease flickering across their faces. None dared interrupt him.
Kael planted his hands on the table, his voice like a blade. "I will not be a tyrant. I will not be a beast who destroys because he does not understand. If you fear me, then let me give you reason not to. Let me master this power—not for myself, but for all of you."
Druaka shifted beside him, her amber eyes sharp with pride. Lyria's jaw tightened, but her hand brushed lightly against Kael's arm under the table—a silent anchor.
The elven elder cleared her throat softly, breaking the suffocating silence. "If… if you truly believe knowledge is the key, then perhaps seeking it is wise. But the risks are great, Kael. Who would you take?"
Kael straightened, his tone calm but final. "Only those I trust beyond doubt. A small party. No banners, no displays of strength. Quiet, cautious. Lyria, Druaka, and one other." His eyes met Thalos'. "You'll hold the Hollow in my absence."
The wolfkin grunted, his expression unreadable. "And if they learn what you are? What you can do?"
Kael's lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. "Then they'll learn what happens when they mistake fear for weakness."
No one spoke after that. The fire hissed as a log split, sparks leaping upward.
For the first time since the Hollow's founding, the council didn't just see their leader. They saw the weight of the dragon's blood, the chaos he wielded, and the man who refused to let it consume him.