Chapter 96 – Tests of Loyalty
The council chamber felt smaller than usual. The firelight from the sconces flickered against carved stone walls, but the warmth did little to ease the tension simmering among the gathered leaders.
Kael sat at the head of the long table, Lyria and Druaka flanking him on either side. Across from them, Fenrik leaned forward, his thick hands pressed flat against the polished wood. His eyes, normally sharp with humor, were dark with unease.
"They are too strong," Fenrik growled. "And too new to be trusted. Rogan and Varik bested me and Thalos at the gates, made fools of us before the people. And now you've welcomed them into our walls."
Thalos bristled beside him, tusks jutting forward in frustration. "It isn't shame I feel—it's danger. If they can put me on my back with such ease, what do you think the people whisper when they see them walk free? Some already wonder if we are ruled by Kael… or by whatever monsters he collects."
A low murmur rippled through the other council members. Some nodded, others avoided Kael's gaze.
Kael let the silence linger, then finally stood. His voice carried with steady weight.
"You speak of danger. I see opportunity."
He stepped around the table, every council member's eyes following him. "Yes, they are strong. Yes, they bested Fenrik and Thalos. But instead of cutting their throats and burning their corpses in the forest, I listened. And what I heard was not treachery—it was pain. Two brothers, scarred by humans, left with nothing but stories and rage."
He stopped at the end of the table, planting his hands firmly on the wood. His shadow stretched long across the chamber floor. "So hear me now: I will not waste their strength. If you doubt their loyalty, then I will test it."
Lyria's sharp eyes flicked toward him, curiosity sparking in the green of her gaze. Druaka leaned forward slightly, tension visible in her posture.
Kael straightened. "Rogan will raise a militia. Not an army of conquest, but a guard—men and women trained to defend their homes, their families, their Hollow. He has fury, and fury can be shaped into discipline."
A few of the elders exchanged uneasy looks.
"And Varik," Kael continued, his gaze sliding toward the calmer of the two brothers, "will walk a different path. He will be our eyes beyond the walls. A scout, a spy. He will slip into nearby towns and villages, listen to their whispers, watch their trade, learn how they view us. If danger brews, he will be the first to know it."
The chamber erupted in low conversation. Some nodded in approval; others frowned, their doubt clear.
Fenrik grunted. "So one trains soldiers, the other gathers secrets. You'd trust them with both our sword and our shield?"
Kael turned his gaze to him, unwavering. "I would. Because if they betray us, it will be in plain sight. If they succeed, we are stronger than ever before. Either way, we will know where they stand."
Thalos rumbled deep in his chest. "And if they fail? Or worse—if they run to humans with what they learn?"
Kael's eyes flashed, shadow curling faintly at his fingertips. "Then I will handle them myself."
The words carried such finality that the room fell quiet.
After a long pause, Druaka finally spoke, her voice low but firm. "They are my blood. If Kael trusts them, then I will stand with him. But if they betray us…" she looked toward the door where her brothers waited, her tusks catching the light, "…then I'll cut them down myself."
The silence that followed her declaration was heavy, but it broke the tension. Fenrik leaned back, exhaling through his nose. Thalos crossed his arms but didn't argue further.
Finally, one of the elven councilors spoke, her voice calm. "Very well. Let them prove themselves. But know this, Kael: the people watch. Fail in this, and you risk more than soldiers—you risk their faith."
Kael nodded. "Then we won't fail."
Outside the Chamber
The great doors opened, and Rogan and Varik straightened as Kael approached them. Rogan looked restless, his molten eyes burning with the hunger for action. Varik, ever still, simply waited.
Kael crossed his arms. "The council has decided. If you want to walk within these walls, you will serve."
Rogan grinned, showing thick tusks. "Good. I was getting tired of sitting around, anyway. Tell me what you need."
Kael met his eyes. "You will raise a militia. Take volunteers—men and women willing to fight, no matter their race or size. Train them. Shape them. But remember—they are not weapons for conquest. They are shields. Guardians of this Hollow."
Rogan's grin widened. "A challenge. I like it."
Kael turned to Varik. The blue-haired ogre inclined his head slightly, already understanding.
"You will be our shadow," Kael said. "You'll go where others cannot. Villages. Markets. Roads. You'll listen, watch, and bring back word of what others whisper about us. If they plan war, I want to know before their swords leave their sheaths."
Varik's cool eyes met his. "And if they already do?"
Kael's voice was steel. "Then you tell me, and I'll decide how to break them."
For the first time, Varik's lips twitched in something close to a smile.
A New Path
As the brothers left to prepare for their tasks, Kael lingered at the gates, watching them go. The Hollow bustled behind him—workers raising new walls, merchants hauling goods, children darting through the streets. His people. His responsibility.
Lyria appeared at his side, brushing her hair back as her sharp gaze followed Rogan and Varik. "You've tied their fates to yours. If they succeed, you'll look like a visionary. If they fail…"
Kael exhaled slowly. "Then I'll be the fool who trusted too much."
Druaka joined them, her eyes following her brothers until they disappeared from view. "They'll fight to prove themselves. They have to. Not for you. Not even for me. But because it's all they have left."
Kael nodded, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. "Then let's make sure it's enough."
And with that, the Hollow took its next step forward—not with blade or blood, but with trust tested by fire.