Chapter 191: Strains of Prosperity
The Hollow felt alive in a way Kael had only dreamed of. Six hundred souls moved within its walls, working, building, and laughing. It was no longer just a refuge carved from rock and soil—it was becoming a living city.
The Good
The forge yard blazed brighter than ever before. Smiths from the nomad bands had joined the dwarves and beastkin, filling the air with the ring of hammers. New plows, nails, and cooking pots rolled out daily. For the first time in months, the council didn't argue about tools breaking faster than they could be replaced.
In the fields, rows of green stretched far and wide. Farmers from a dozen races knelt side by side, trading methods and stories. Beastkin used their keen sense of smell to tell when soil was ripe for seed; dwarves showed humans how to build irrigation channels with stones. The results were promising—crops that might actually last through the winter.
Children laughed as they darted through the streets, some chasing Umbra's shadow as it stretched across the walls. Azhara often joined them, her crimson skin and white eyes no longer feared. The children tugged at her hands, calling her beautiful. For the first time in her life, she didn't flinch at the word.
At night, music filled the air—flutes, drums, and voices. Nomads and Hollowborn sat shoulder to shoulder, drinking and singing. Kael walked among them, quietly pleased.
The Bad
But alongside the laughter, cracks began to show.
Food stretched thin. Six hundred mouths ate quickly, and though the fields promised much, harvest was weeks away. The council rationed grain, cutting down daily meals. Bellies grumbled, and though few complained openly, Kael heard the mutters in the dark corners.
Housing was another strain. The eastern cavern bustled with half-finished shelters. Smoke often choked the tunnels as fires burned poorly, and some families quarreled over bedding space. Kael's chaos soldiers dug deeper halls, but progress was slow.
Tensions flared in small, ugly ways. A beastkin accused a dwarf of hoarding bread. Two humans brawled with orcs over fishing spots. Saekaros handled many disputes swiftly, but even he couldn't be everywhere.
Kael knew prosperity had a price. And now, he felt that price pressing against his chest.
The Council Debate
The council gathered in the longhouse, firelight painting their faces. Scrolls and clay tablets littered the table, numbers scratched onto them.
"We cannot keep this pace," muttered one elder, a human farmer. "Our stores will not last another month."
"We knew this when we opened the gates," Rogan snapped. "Did you want to turn starving families away?"
"That's not the point—"
"It is exactly the point," Fenrik cut in, his voice firm. "These people chose Kael, and he chose them. We make it work, or we waste the sacrifice."
Kael listened, letting them argue. Then his gaze shifted to Thalos, who sat quietly, his arms folded.
"You're quiet tonight," Kael said.
Thalos gave him a sharp look. "I'm counting the numbers. And I don't like them. Food will run short. Fights will grow worse. But…" He sighed. "It's still worth it. Better we suffer together than leave them to die outside our walls."
Kael nodded. "Then that is the balance we keep. Prosperity and hardship—two sides of the same coin. We can bear it."
The council fell silent at his words, each weighing their meaning.
A Walk at Dusk
Later that night, Kael walked the streets with Lyria at his side. The Hollow pulsed with life. Fires crackled, families huddled together, and music drifted through the cool air. But here and there, Kael saw the other side: children crying from hunger, weary miners sleeping on bare stone, women arguing in hushed voices over scraps of cloth.
Lyria slipped her arm through his. "You see it too, don't you?"
Kael gave a slow nod. "The good and the bad. It's all around us. But it means we're alive. And as long as we're alive, we endure."
She rested her head against his shoulder. "That's why they follow you."
Kael didn't answer, only looked out at his people. Families who had once been scattered, hunted, and broken—now together in this fragile haven. He knew the Hollow's survival would not be easy. But in their laughter, and even in their quarrels, he found hope.
Kael's Reflection
That night, as Kael sat alone, he thought of Thalos' words. Better we suffer together.
He knew it was true. The Hollow had chosen this path the moment its gates opened to six hundred. Now they would walk it together, through hardship and prosperity alike.
And Kael, whether he wished it or not, would lead them every step of the way.