Chapter 152 – A Gift in Darkness
Sleep had never been kind to Kael. For years it had carried grief, memories of war, and visions too sharp to be dreams. But tonight, the peace of the Hollow did not follow him into slumber.
Instead, he stood again in the cavern of the broken ritual.
The air reeked of scorched stone and blood, though no corpses lay around him. Instead, the massive figure of the Daemon Lord loomed before him, his form twisting with both shadow and fire. His eyes burned like molten embers, and when he spoke, the ground itself trembled.
"Little dragonoid… child of chaos and flame."
Kael's throat tightened, but he forced himself to meet that gaze. "You should be sealed. This is only a dream."
The Daemon Lord chuckled, the sound like chains grinding together. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Do you think mortal seals bind one such as I? Even in slumber, I see. Even in silence, I speak. And I have chosen you, Kael of the Hollow."
Kael clenched his fists. "Chosen me? You're nothing but a danger to this world. To my people."
"And yet… your blood runs with mine," the Daemon Lord hissed. His burning gaze pierced deeper. "Demon. Dragon. Chaos. You are kin to destruction, and yet you pretend to be shepherd. Fool, or visionary? I will see which."
The world seemed to shake as the Daemon Lord stretched out a clawed hand. A crimson flame gathered in his palm, twisting into symbols Kael had never seen before. They burned into Kael's vision until he thought his eyes would melt.
"A gift," the Daemon Lord said. "Daemon summoning. Power enough to call my lesser kin to your side. Will you reject it, as you reject your blood? Or will you embrace it… as you embraced your dragon's form?"
The fire leapt forward, searing into Kael's chest. He staggered, gasping, feeling the alien script etch itself into his very soul. His scream tore the dream apart.
Kael woke drenched in sweat, his heart hammering. For a long time, he sat at the edge of his bed, staring at his trembling hands. He could still feel it—the brand of the Daemon Lord, glowing faint beneath his skin.
He had not asked for it. But he had it all the same.
By morning, he had made his choice.
The council gathered in the hall, lanternlight flickering across their tense faces. Saekaros leaned forward, his long claws steepled. Fenrik's arms were crossed, his jaw tight. Rogan scowled, while Varik's sharp eyes darted between Kael and the others. Lyria sat nearest Kael, her hand brushing against his beneath the table, silent support.
Kael stood before them, his voice steady though his insides trembled.
"I've kept something from you. When the nomads attempted their ritual, when we fought to stop them, the Daemon Lord… spoke to me. He knew me. Knew what I was. And last night, he returned to me in a dream."
Murmurs rose instantly. Fenrik slammed his fist on the table. "A dream? You trust a daemon's whispers?"
"I didn't ask for it," Kael said firmly, raising his hand. A faint crimson glow bled from beneath his skin. "But he gave me something. A skill. Daemon summoning. I don't know its limits. I don't know its cost. But I will not keep this hidden from you. Not now."
The council quieted. The weight of his words pressed on them like an avalanche.
Saekaros finally spoke, voice low and thoughtful. "Summoning daemons is no small matter. It is a chain, Kael. A chain between you and him. Once tested, it cannot be undone."
"And yet," Varik muttered, "if it grants us power… could it not also grant us safety?"
"Or damnation," Rogan snapped.
Lyria looked at Kael, her eyes unflinching. "You already decided, didn't you?"
Kael nodded slowly. "I cannot ignore it. Power ignored festers. Power tested can be understood. I am asking for your trust. Stand with me as I try. If I lose myself… stop me."
Silence fell over the council chamber. Then, one by one, they rose.
Fenrik first, his scowl deep but his conviction solid. "If this is the path you walk, then I will not let you walk it alone."
Varik next, hand resting on his blade. "Better I see what danger this is than wonder from the shadows."
Saekaros stood slowly, his reptilian eyes glinting. "Wisdom comes from witnessing. I will witness this, and judge."
Even Rogan pushed himself up, muttering, "If you damn us, I'll be the one to end you. But I'll stand there when you try."
Finally, Lyria rose, her hand sliding into Kael's. "Always."
Together, the council gathered in a circle around Kael. The glow beneath his skin grew hotter, sharper, as though the Daemon Lord himself was waiting.
Kael drew in a breath, shut his eyes, and whispered the words that had been burned into his soul.
The ground trembled. The air thickened with heat and shadow. Crimson script flared around Kael's feet.
And the Hollow waited to see what would emerge.