Chapter 138 – The Weight of Needs
The Hollow awoke to the sound of life.
Birdsong spilled through the trees. The forges clanged. Children laughed as they chased one another between the freshly built stone houses. The scent of fresh bread and roasted meat drifted on the breeze, mingling with the earthy musk of crops growing strong in the summer sun.
Kael walked the streets with Umbra at his side, offering greetings and nods to those who passed. People smiled when they saw him now—hesitant smiles still, but no longer afraid. In their eyes, he saw recognition: not of the dragon, not of the monster, but of the leader who had given them something they thought impossible. A home.
Lyria joined him halfway through his walk, brushing flour from her sleeves. She had been helping the bakers prepare loaves for the day.
"You're everywhere at once," she teased lightly.
Kael gave a small grin. "And yet never enough."
They shared a quiet laugh before their steps carried them to the mines. The miners greeted them with pride, showing off raw chunks of ore stacked high and the glimmering veins of magistone they had uncovered. Deeper still, the sealed dungeon doors loomed, untouched since Kael's command to leave them closed for now.
When they emerged again into the light, Kael's mood grew heavier.
At the day's council meeting, reports of prosperity came one after another—strong crops, healthy livestock, fewer disputes. Yet when Fenrik unrolled the newest ledger, the tone shifted.
"Our stockpiles are solid," Fenrik said, tapping the parchment with one thick finger. "But our supply of rare herbs is dwindling. The healers complain they're working with scraps. And without stronger medicines, another plague season could cripple us."
Murmurs rippled through the council. Saekaros leaned forward, his lizardlike eyes thoughtful. "These herbs grow beyond our borders. Some kingdoms hoard them, trading only at high cost. But the Hollow's caravans…" He trailed off, unwilling to finish.
Everyone knew the truth. Since Kael's attack on the kingdom, trade had slowed to a trickle. Caravans returned lighter and lighter each week.
"We can't wait for them to come back to us," Fenrik said. "If sickness strikes, food and ore won't save us. We need medicines. We need knowledge."
The room grew still. Kael looked around at his council—faces marked by worry, determination, fear. He thought of the children playing in the streets. He thought of Druaka's grave.
Finally, he spoke. His voice was calm, but it carried weight.
"Then I'll go."
The words silenced the chamber.
Lyria turned sharply toward him. "Kael—"
He raised a hand. "I'll go myself. I'll take a small party, no more. We'll cross into their lands, find the herbs, find the books we need on medicine and healing. We'll bring back what the Hollow cannot live without."
Thalos rumbled uneasily, his tusks glinting in the light. "You would walk straight into their kingdom after what you've done?"
Kael met his gaze without flinching. "Yes. Because our people can't afford for me not to."
The council erupted into arguments—too dangerous, too reckless, too soon. But Kael sat in silence, listening, his jaw set. Finally, when the voices had begun to spiral, he stood.
"I will not send others to do what I would not. If there's risk, I'll bear it. If there's a cost, I'll pay it. That is what it means to lead."
For a long moment, the council stared at him. Then slowly, one by one, their protests died.
Saekaros folded his hands. "If this is to be done, then do it swiftly. Before the summer heat burns the herbs from the fields."
Kael nodded once, his decision firm. "At dawn, we ride."
That night, he stood with Lyria beneath the stars. The Hollow glowed with lantern light in the distance, but here it was quiet. She said nothing at first, only studying him, her eyes heavy with concern.
Finally, she whispered, "You'll go no matter what I say, won't you?"
Kael looked at her, grief and resolve woven together in his expression. "I have to. For them. For us."
She stepped closer, resting her forehead against his chest. "Then promise me one thing."
"Anything."
"Come back. Don't leave me to grieve again."
Kael's arms tightened around her, and though no words could truly promise what she asked, he spoke them anyway. "I'll come back."
And with that vow lingering between them, the night passed into silence, and the Hollow prepared itself for another test of its leader.