Chapter 140 – Soil and Stone
The Hollow rose with the sun.
Where once mornings had been sluggish with grief or shadowed by fear of hunger, now they carried a different rhythm—one of urgency, of sweat, of hope. Kael stood at the edge of the new fields just beyond the Hollow's gates, watching as families worked side by side.
The soil was dark and rich, freshly turned by oxen and crude plows. Farmers knelt in neat rows, fingers working quickly, placing seeds into shallow furrows before covering them over. Women and men alike bent their backs to the labor. Children carried buckets of water, sloshing carefully as they followed the lines of their parents.
The pouches of seeds Kael, Fenrik, and Thalos had brought back lay nearly empty now. Feverfew. Marigold. Willowherb. Peppermint. Each row marked with wooden stakes and carved symbols so they could be tracked and tended.
Fenrik wiped sweat from his forehead, leaning on a spade. "Never thought I'd see the day I'd be planting flowers instead of swinging an axe."
One of the farmers laughed, a tired but genuine sound. "Flowers that heal, you'll be glad of them when you take a cut."
Kael smiled faintly, kneeling beside a child struggling to pat down soil over seeds. He reached out with careful hands, guiding the boy's small palms. "Firm, but not too much," he said gently. "The seed needs air to breathe."
The child looked up at him with wide eyes. "Like people?"
Kael nodded. "Exactly like people."
The boy grinned, and Kael's chest tightened. This was what he fought for. Not the grand clashes of kingdoms. Not the terror of his dragon form. But the chance for a child to plant a seed and believe it would grow.
By midday, the sun blazed high, sweat soaking tunics and dampening Kael's hair. Rows of green shoots now lined the earth, watered and marked. He walked the length of the new fields, his chaos soldiers aiding silently in their tireless way—hauling buckets, breaking earth, carrying sacks of compost without complaint.
When the last seed was pressed into soil, the farmers gathered under a shade tree, drinking deeply from clay jugs of water. Kael stood before them, voice carrying strong.
"You have done more than plant herbs today," he told them. "You have planted the cure for tomorrow's fever, the balm for tomorrow's wounds. These fields are our future."
The people nodded, weary but proud, their faces lined with sweat and dirt—and something brighter. Hope.
The mines beckoned next.
Kael descended into the depths, torches casting flickering light across the stone walls. The air grew cooler, damp with the scent of minerals and earth. His chaos soldiers marched beside him, picks and hammers in hand.
The miners had already broken into a new shaft, the clang of metal on stone echoing like a heartbeat. Kael joined them, his own hands gripping a pick. Blow after blow fell, sparks dancing in the dark.
Hours passed until the earth shuddered beneath them. A wall gave way with a thunderous crack, and stone collapsed into open air. Dust billowed, choking, but when it cleared, the Hollow's fortune revealed itself.
A cavern stretched wide and endless, so massive the torchlight barely touched the far walls. Stalactites hung like fangs from the ceiling, glittering faintly. Veins of ore streaked the stone—iron, silver, and glimmers of something rarer.
But what drew Kael's breath was the stream.
It cut through the cavern floor in a winding ribbon, water clear and cold, tumbling softly over smooth stones. The sound of it echoed like a song in the vast emptiness.
Fenrik's voice rang out, half in awe. "By the gods… it's beautiful."
Kael stepped forward, boots crunching on loose rock. He knelt at the water's edge, cupping it in his hands. The stream ran clean and fresh, cool against his lips as he drank.
"Not just beautiful," he said slowly. "Perfect."
Thalos raised a brow. "Perfect for what?"
Kael's eyes swept the cavern—the stream, the rich minerals, the space vast enough to hold hundreds. "For everything. The herbs will thrive here in damp air. The minerals will feed our forges. And if danger ever comes to the Hollow again… this place could shelter our people."
The miners murmured in agreement, awe spreading through the group.
One of them, an older man with soot streaking his cheeks, spoke softly. "An evacuation zone… a safe haven. The mountain itself watches over us."
Kael nodded, fingers trailing against the stone walls, feeling the hum of hidden power. "We will keep this place. Guard it. One day, it may be the difference between our survival and ruin."
The chaos soldiers fanned out, their eyes glowing faint in the shadows as they marked paths and cleared rubble. Kael stood in the cavern's heart, his chest rising with the weight of it all.
Seeds planted in the soil above. Minerals and sanctuary hidden in the stone below.
For the first time in months, he felt the Hollow was not merely surviving—it was growing, rooting itself into the land like a living thing.