Chapter 99 – The Turning of the Tide
The council chamber was heavy with silence. Varik's words still hung in the air like a blade poised to strike, sharp and undeniable. An army marches against us.
Candles sputtered in their sconces, shadows bending against the stone walls. The long wooden table was crowded with the leaders of the Hollow: Fenrik with his ever-grim expression, Thalos leaning heavily on his hammer, Rogan and Druaka sitting apart, Lyria with her arms folded tightly across her chest. Kael sat at the head of the table, eyes down, fingers steepled.
It was Fenrik who spoke first, his voice rough as gravel.
"We should seal the gates, call back the caravans, and prepare for siege. If the kingdom sends their dogs, let them break themselves against our walls."
Thalos snorted, the sound booming through the chamber.
"A siege favors them, not us. They've armies, supplies, and coin enough to wait us out. We must strike first—hit their scouts, harry their supply lines, cut the legs from under them before they set foot on our soil."
A murmur of agreement rose from Rogan. The red-haired ogre cracked his knuckles.
"Thalos is right. We should meet them head-on, show them the Hollow doesn't cower. My soldiers may be green, but they're willing. Blooded or not, they'll fight if I command it."
Fenrik shot him a hard look. "And lose half their number in the first charge? Fool's talk. Courage doesn't sharpen a blade or strengthen armor. We need time, not rash heroics."
Lyria's voice cut in sharp, cool.
"Time will not change their intent. They come because they fear us. If we hide, they'll only grow bolder. If we lash out blindly, we risk destruction. We must be cunning—make them bleed without ever setting eyes on our walls."
Druaka shifted in her seat, frowning. "So we send out small strikes, wear them down? That could work, but if they catch us in the open—"
Her words trailed off, the tension pressing tighter as voices began to overlap.
Rogan slammed a fist on the table. "Then what do we do? Wait until their banners blot out the horizon?"
Thalos bared his teeth. "Better that than feeding them our throats like sheep."
Fenrik growled low. "If we're not careful, your reckless plans will see us all dead."
The chamber erupted. Each member of the council raised their voice—accusations, fears, strategies tumbling over one another. Even Druaka's usual calm was drowned out in the swell of heated debate.
Through it all, Kael remained silent. He sat unmoving, his face unreadable, as if carved of stone. His shadow seemed to stretch long against the wall behind him, flickering in the candlelight like it awaited his command.
At last, the table stilled. One by one, the council members turned toward him. The silence was suffocating now, demanding.
Kael's eyes lifted.
"Enough."
The word was soft, yet it cut through the chamber like a blade.
He rose from his seat, his dark cloak falling about him. His voice carried not anger, but certainty.
"You're all right. And you're all wrong. A siege favors them. A charge favors them. Even caution favors them. But what we do have is preparation. We've always known something like this would come. We built walls, stockpiled food, trained soldiers, and forged weapons. We have been readying ourselves for this very moment since the first stone of this Hollow was set."
Kael's gaze swept across the table, steady and unflinching.
"They believe us monsters, yet it is their fear that drives them, not ours. If they think us weak, we will show them cunning. If they think us fragile, we will show them teeth."
He turned to Varik.
"You know their movements, their patterns. You've seen their supplies. That knowledge is our weapon."
Then to Lyria. His voice softened, but only slightly.
"You will go with him. Map their camps, find their weaknesses, sabotage what you can. Slow them however possible. The rest of us will prepare here. By the time their armies march, their blades will be dulled, their stomachs empty, and their spirits frayed."
Lyria inclined her head, eyes gleaming with resolve. Varik gave only the faintest of nods, his cold demeanor betraying the approval in his silence.
Kael then straightened, his voice rising like a storm rolling in over the sea.
"My people, my friends—we do not fight for glory. We do not fight for conquest. We fight for our home, for our right to live free. The kingdoms may sneer, the humans may whisper, but here in the Hollow, we have forged something new. Something worth bleeding for. Worth dying for."
The shadows stirred at his words, curling around the edges of the room as if chaos itself answered his conviction.
"Let them come. Let them march with their steel and their fear. They will find not beasts, not monsters—but a people united. And they will break against us."
Silence followed his words, heavy and absolute. Then, slowly, one by one, the council members rose from their seats.
Fenrik struck the table with his fist in grim approval.
Thalos bared his tusks in a fierce grin.
Rogan nodded, fire burning in his red eyes.
Druaka's expression softened, pride flickering in her gaze.
And at last, Lyria's voice rang clear:
"Then so it shall be. The Hollow will not fall."
The chamber erupted—not with argument, but with determination. The debate was finished. Their course was set.
And Kael, at the heart of it all, knew in his bones that this was only the beginning.