Chapter 165: At the Ocean's Gate
The Hollow had just settled into its rhythm of trade when the magical sphere left by King Thalren shimmered with a glow. Kael had been in the council chamber with Lyria, Varik, and Rogan when the flicker caught his attention. With a steady hand, he lifted the sphere, and Thalren's voice filled the room, calm but commanding.
"Kael of the Hollow," the king's words resonated as though he were standing among them, "the time has come for us to take our next step. I invite you to Arendar's coastal capital as my guest, not as a vassal but as a fellow ruler. Come as a diplomat, with your trusted companions, and see what my kingdom offers. The path of unity requires more than trade—it requires understanding. I await your answer."
The chamber fell silent, all eyes shifting to Kael. The invitation was no small thing. To step into another kingdom's walls meant leaving the Hollow vulnerable, even if only briefly. It meant trust—or at least the illusion of it.
Lyria spoke first, her tone cautious. "He calls it unity, but what does he truly want? A guest can as easily become a hostage."
Rogan crossed his arms, his scowl deep. "Or a pawn. You've seen how kings twist words. He could dress up chains as alliances."
Varik, calm as ever, added, "Or it could be genuine. Trade has already begun. A diplomatic step could solidify it. Refusing might look like weakness—or insult."
Fenrik leaned forward, resting his heavy arms on the table. "I say we go. You can handle yourself, Kael, and no kingdom walls will hold you if they try something. And if they see you for who you are—not just a name, not just a threat—they might finally understand what kind of leader you are."
Kael let their words wash over him. His golden eyes burned as he finally broke the silence. "The Hollow cannot hide behind its walls forever. If this is a trap, I'll survive it. If it's genuine, then we secure more than just trade. We secure our future."
He turned to Lyria, his voice softening. "You'll come with me. I'll need your eyes and your counsel."
Then to Fenrik. "You as well. A sword at my back I can always trust."
The rest of the council shifted uneasily, but no one spoke against him. Finally, Varik inclined his head. "Then it is decided. Go, Kael. We'll hold the Hollow while you're away."
Preparations began at dawn the next day. Kael stood in the courtyard as the stable hands brought forth the mounts chosen for the journey. Massive direwolves—towering beasts bred for loyalty and endurance—snarled and paced, their thick fur rippling like waves of shadow. Their handlers soothed them with murmured commands until the wolves lowered themselves, docile enough for riders.
Lyria approached first, her hand brushing the muzzle of a silver-gray wolf whose eyes glowed faintly green. "He's beautiful," she whispered, swinging onto its back with practiced grace.
Fenrik mounted a wolf almost as large as a horse, its black coat flecked with streaks of red. The beast rumbled low in its throat but seemed to accept him without fuss.
And Kael—Kael did not take a wolf. Umbra appeared from the shadows as though called by some unspoken bond. The great beast's scales shimmered with violet undertones, wings folded tight against his lean frame. His eyes, twin pools of midnight, locked onto Kael, and he bowed his head slightly.
"I'll ride no other," Kael said, his voice like steel as he mounted Umbra's back. The chaos dragon's muscles coiled beneath him, eager and restless.
Rogan clapped his brother's shoulder. "Don't die," he muttered gruffly.
Kael smirked faintly. "Not today."
With that, the trio departed, leaving the Hollow's walls behind. The journey stretched across fields and rivers, the landscape rolling out in vibrant shades of autumn gold and crimson. Birds wheeled overhead, and once or twice they spotted caravans along the roads—merchants who quickly veered off rather than risk crossing paths with Kael and his escorts.
Lyria rode close to him, her silver hair catching the light like a banner. "You're quiet," she said softly.
"I'm thinking," Kael replied.
"About Thalren?"
"About everything. About what lies ahead. About what he really wants."
Fenrik's deep voice rumbled from behind. "Does it matter? If he plays tricks, you'll break him. If he doesn't, then we gain an ally. Either way, the Hollow survives."
Kael didn't answer, but his silence carried weight.
By the third day, the air grew heavy with salt, and the cries of seabirds echoed over the cliffs. The kingdom of Arendar sprawled before them, carved into the coast itself. Towering walls of pale stone gleamed under the sun, banners of deep blue and silver rippling in the sea breeze. The city rose in tiers, climbing the cliffs toward a glittering palace whose spires seemed to pierce the clouds. Below, a harbor stretched wide, filled with ships of every size—sleek trading vessels, heavy warships, and merchant boats bearing goods from across the seas.
As they approached the gates, the sheer scale of it struck even Kael. The Hollow was strong, self-made, and proud—but Arendar was ancient. Its walls bore the weight of centuries. Its guards, armored in gleaming steel, lowered their spears in unison at their arrival.
A herald stepped forward, his voice carrying clear across the courtyard. "By order of King Thalren, Kael of the Hollow and his companions are granted entry as honored guests. Lay down no arms, and you shall pass in peace."
Kael swung down from Umbra's back, placing a hand on the beast's neck. "Stay close," he murmured. Umbra rumbled but folded his wings, his body melting into shadow as he slunk behind Kael, eyes burning with silent promise.
The gates of Arendar opened with a groan of iron and stone, revealing the grandeur of the ocean kingdom within. Streets paved with white marble stretched ahead, lined with towering statues and intricate mosaics that shimmered under the fading sun.
Kael's jaw tightened as he stepped forward, Lyria and Fenrik at his sides. Whatever awaited them beyond these gates, one thing was certain: the Hollow's fate now intertwined with the ocean kingdom's.
And the first move would be his to make.