Chapter 195: Fire and Ash
The Hollow was alive again.
Bread baked in the ovens, stew boiled in pots, and laughter drifted through the streets for the first time in weeks. Children ran with bellies full, their joy echoing in the night air. Families who had grown gaunt with hunger sat together, eating like they hadn't in months.
Kael stood in the shadows, watching. Relief swelled in his chest, but no pride. This wasn't a victory—it was survival. He had given them what they needed, though at a cost he hadn't yet confessed aloud.
Lyria's Question
When he returned to his chambers, Lyria was waiting. She stood rigid, arms crossed, her eyes blazing.
"Kael," she said, her voice sharp enough to cut stone. "Where did the food come from?"
Kael froze. His jaw clenched. "Don't ask me that," he said quietly. "Please, Lyria. Just… don't."
Her brow furrowed. She stalked toward him, every step like a hammer blow. "Don't? Don't? Do you think I'm a fool? Do you think I can't see it in your face? In the shadows crawling behind your eyes? Tell me what you've done."
"Lyria…" Kael's voice cracked, raw with exhaustion. "Don't make me—"
Her hand shot out and shoved him hard in the chest. He staggered a step. "Tell me!" she snarled, her teeth bared like a cornered wolf. "I've bled for you, fought for you. I stood by you when everyone else doubted. If you can't tell me, then who in this cursed world can you tell?"
The Truth
Kael's chest heaved. He stared at her, the fury in her face, the anguish in her eyes. He couldn't lie—not to her.
His shoulders sagged. His voice was hollow. "Thalos. Varik. I sent them under my orders. We raided nearby villages. Stole livestock. Took grain. We left signs, made it look like bandits. That's where it came from. Every crumb in those storerooms drips with it."
For a moment Lyria said nothing. She just stared at him, as if she hadn't heard right. Then her face twisted with rage.
"You stole?" she screamed, her voice shaking the chamber. She shoved him again, harder this time, her fists slamming against his chest. "You damned fool! Do you realize what you've done? Do you realize what this means if it comes back to us?"
Kael caught her wrists, holding them, but not harshly. "I did what I had to!"
"You think this is leadership?" she spat, tearing her arms free. "You think this is strength? You've put us all in danger, Kael—all of us!"
The Fight
Something in Kael snapped.
"Do you think I wanted this?" he roared, his voice shaking the timbers of the chamber. Shadows writhed at the edges of the room, alive with his fury. "Do you think I wanted to send them out like thieves in the night? I watched our people starve, Lyria! I listened to children cry themselves to sleep with empty bellies! What would you have me do? Sit in council, wring my hands, and let them waste away?"
Her eyes burned. "You're supposed to be better than this!"
His chest heaved, his voice breaking. "Better doesn't feed them!"
The words ripped from him like claws. His fists slammed down onto the table beside him, splitting the wood. "I'd bloody my conscience a thousand times over if it means they live. A thousand, Lyria. Don't you dare question that!"
She flinched at the crack of the table, but her fury didn't falter. She shoved him again, her palms hitting his chest with trembling force. "And what about you? How many times can you bloody your soul before there's nothing left of the man I love? How many lines before you're not Kael anymore, but just another monster who thinks the end justifies anything?"
The words struck him harder than any blade. He staggered back, breathing like a cornered beast, his heart tearing apart.
Breaking Point
For a long moment the only sound was their ragged breathing.
Then Lyria's voice cracked, softer but still edged with fire. "I hate it. Gods, Kael, I hate what you've done. But…" Her fists trembled at her sides. "I walked the streets today. I saw them smiling. I saw children running with bread in their hands, not clutching their stomachs in pain. And I can't deny what I saw."
Kael's throat burned.
She stepped forward, tears streaming down her face though her voice stayed firm. "You bought them time. You gave them hope. But you also dragged us closer to ruin. And you—" she jabbed a finger hard into his chest—"you will carry that weight, but don't you dare think I'll stay silent about it."
Kael's hand rose, trembling, and pressed over hers on his chest. His voice was hoarse, broken. "I know. And I swear, Lyria—I'll bear it. All of it. But I couldn't watch them die. Not again."
Her hand shook beneath his, but she didn't pull away. "You're not alone in this, Kael. Even when I hate your choices, even when I hate you for them—I'm still here. But damn you… damn you for making me watch you do this to yourself."
Kael pulled her into his arms, crushing her against him as though she might vanish. She beat her fists against his chest once more, weakly this time, before finally collapsing into his embrace, sobbing against him.
He held her, his own eyes burning, while outside the Hollow laughed and sang with full bellies, oblivious to the cost.
And in that quiet storm between them, Kael knew this was the price of leadership—bread for his people, ashes for his soul.