Chapter Seventy-Six: Shadows of Power, Whispers of Desire
The Grand Archive groaned like an old beast as Kael slid the tome back into his cloak. The air felt heavier now, charged with something unspoken. He had seen the truth on those pages, felt it coil into his bones like a second heartbeat. Chaos magic was no longer just a concept—it was a reality waiting to be unleashed.
"Time to move," Lyria whispered, her bow already drawn. The torchlight from the hallways beyond flickered, voices echoing closer.
Kael nodded once. Shadows rose around them like a cloak, muffling footsteps, swallowing light. He led the way, silent but purposeful, every corridor bending to his will. Guards passed by without even sensing their presence, though Druaka's hand never left the hilt of her blade.
When they slipped out into the night air, the chill struck hard. The city stretched below them, alive with the clamor of taverns, the ringing of smiths, and the stench of humanity. But Kael barely noticed. His mind still reeled with the enormity of what he had read.
As they vanished into the narrow alleys and back toward the gates, Druaka broke the silence. "So… you've got the power to make anything. To unmake anything. Doesn't that make you… a god?"
Kael's jaw tightened. He hated the word. "No. I bleed. I can die. Gods don't."
Lyria's eyes flicked toward him, studying his face as if she could see past the calm mask he wore. "But you can do what they can't. Bend the world itself."
Kael stopped walking, looking up at the sky. Clouds shifted in slow patterns above the rooftops, the moon half-hidden. His voice was softer than either woman had expected.
"If I can create anything… destroy anything… then it means I'm more dangerous to the Hollow than any enemy ever could be." His fingers curled unconsciously, a flicker of dark flame sparking between them. "That's why I need control. If I lose it—"
"You won't." Lyria cut him off firmly, stepping closer. "You've held back this long. You've guided us this far. You won't lose yourself now."
Druaka's tusked smile was faint but genuine. "And even if you did… you've got us. We'll drag you back from the abyss."
Kael stared at them both, and for the first time since leaving the Hollow, he felt something heavier than fear: trust. He gave a single nod and resumed walking.
They slipped through the gates under the cover of nightfall, the guards none the wiser. The road back to the Hollow was long, but the forest welcomed them like an old friend. Kael walked ahead, Umbra padding silently at his side, but his ears picked up everything—every rustle of leaves, every whispered breath behind him.
Which was how he caught the conversation he never should have heard.
Druaka's voice was low, curious, tinged with boldness. "So… you and Kael. You've done it, haven't you?"
Lyria made a choking sound, then hissed back. "Druaka!"
"What? I've seen the way you move around him. The way he looks at you. Don't play coy." Druaka's tone was more teasing now, almost playful.
There was a pause, then Lyria muttered, "…Yes."
Kael's steps faltered, though he forced himself to keep walking. His heart thumped like a war drum.
Druaka hummed thoughtfully. "And? Was it… good?"
Kael nearly tripped over a root. Umbra glanced up at him, head cocked.
Lyria's voice dropped to a whisper, sharp but defensive. "Of course it was good! He—he's incredible."
"Oh? And what about…" Druaka hesitated, then lowered her voice further, though Kael's sharpened senses caught every word. "How big?"
Kael froze. Heat surged up his neck, flooding his face. He wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole.
Lyria's silence was answer enough, followed by a flustered, "…Big enough."
Druaka's laugh was low, throaty, and full of mischief. "Mhm. I'll find out for myself one day."
Kael's entire body went rigid. He could feel his face burning, more embarrassed than he had ever been in his life. Battles, bloodshed, and near-death struggles had never shaken him like this.
Umbra gave a soft, amused growl as if the shadow beast itself was laughing at him.
Kael pressed forward without a word, praying to every god and spirit that neither woman realized he'd overheard.