Chapter 202: The First Winter of Plenty
Snow blanketed the Hollow's outer paths, muffling sound and softening the jagged lines of rock and timber. For the first time since its founding, the cold season brought no fear of empty larders or hollow eyes. Smoke curled from chimneys, carrying with it the scent of bread and stew rather than desperation.
Children skated across the frozen stream that ran along the Hollow's southern edge, shrieking with laughter when they tumbled into the snow. Men shoveled paths between homes, their good-natured grumbling softened by the warmth of full bellies. Women strung evergreen boughs above doorframes, an old tradition meant to guard against bad spirits during the long nights.
Kael walked among them, his cloak pulled tight against the crisp air. Umbra padded silently at his side, the dire beast's dark body leaving deep tracks in the snow. People bowed their heads or greeted him warmly as he passed—not with fear or wariness, but with genuine trust. That trust weighed heavily on him, but it also anchored him in a way nothing else could.
Azhara's Small Gifts
He found Azhara near the healer's hut, her crimson skin a vivid contrast against the white world around her. She was crouched in the snow, surrounded by children, her breath misting in the cold. In her hands, she coaxed tiny sparks of mana into shape, forming glowing blossoms that bloomed even in the frost. The children clapped and gasped as the flowers shimmered with colors the snow had never known.
"Again! Again!" one cried, tugging on her sleeve.
Azhara laughed softly, her white eyes crinkling at the corners. "Only if you promise not to step on them this time."
Kael watched from a short distance, unable to suppress the faint smile tugging at his lips. There was something about her—something unpolished but sincere—that drew the little ones to her like moths to flame.
When the children finally darted off, chasing each other through the snow, Azhara noticed him. She straightened quickly, brushing frost from her hands.
"My lord," she said, bowing her head. "I didn't see you there."
"You don't have to call me that," Kael replied. "Not when it's just us."
Her eyes flickered, uncertain, before she nodded. "…Kael, then."
He gestured to the blossoms still glowing faintly in the snow. "Those are new."
She knelt to touch one, and the petals pulsed softly with mana. "I found that if I pour warmth into the spell instead of light, they hold longer. They're not real flowers, but…" Her voice trailed, and for a moment she looked almost shy. "I thought they might make the Hollow feel less… grey. Especially in winter."
"They do," Kael said honestly. "And not just for the children."
Her lips curved into a small, tentative smile, one she seemed almost afraid to let linger too long. She pulled her cloak tighter around herself, though Kael suspected it wasn't just the cold that made her fidget.
Inside the Hearth Hall
That evening, the council hall had been converted into a hearth hall, a wide gathering space where families came to eat together when the cold drove them indoors. Fires roared in the great hearths, and long tables groaned under the weight of food.
Kael sat with Fenrik, Varik, Thalos, and Rogan at one table, the laughter of his council filling the space. Across the hall, Azhara sat among the healers, but her gaze strayed toward Kael often, lingering when she thought he wasn't looking.
At one point, she rose and crossed the hall, carrying a small wooden bowl. She stopped at Kael's side and held it out.
"I made this," she said softly.
Kael looked down. Inside was a stew, richer than the standard fare—bits of dried mushroom, strips of venison, and herbs that gave off a faint, warm fragrance.
"I wanted to see if I could make something better with what we had," she continued, her voice barely above the roar of the hall. "Would you… try it?"
Thalos raised a brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but Kael ignored it. He took the bowl and the wooden spoon, dipping it carefully. The flavor was earthy, rich, and balanced—comforting in a way that reminded him of long-forgotten home.
"It's good," Kael said, meeting her gaze. "Better than good."
Her shoulders relaxed, and a faint flush crept across her crimson cheeks. "I'm glad," she whispered. "I'll make more, then."
As she returned to her seat, Fenrik leaned in with a low chuckle. "She's taken with you, Kael. Even I can see it."
Kael shot him a glare that silenced the table, though his stomach twisted in ways he couldn't quite name.
A Private Moment
Later, when the fires had burned low and the hall emptied, Kael stepped outside into the crisp night air. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, catching on his cloak.
He wasn't surprised when he heard soft footsteps approach. Azhara appeared from the shadows, her breath fogging the air. She clasped her hands together, hesitating before speaking.
"I wanted to thank you," she said. "For letting me be here. For trusting me. I don't know what I would have become without this place… without you."
Kael studied her, the sincerity in her eyes undeniable. "You've earned your place here, Azhara. I only gave you the chance."
Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say more, but she caught herself. Instead, she stepped closer, the faint glow of her mana casting warmth against the cold night.
"I don't know what love is," she admitted quietly, almost as if confessing to the snow. "But… I think I'm starting to understand what it feels like. And if that feeling is tied to you, then I'm not afraid of it."
Kael's breath caught, and for a moment, the weight of her words hung between them like the frozen air. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't.
She smiled faintly, the expression fragile but full of hope, before stepping back. "Good night, Kael."
He watched her disappear into the snow-lit dark, his heart heavier and lighter all at once.
Closing Reflection
That night, as Kael lay awake beside Lyria's sleeping form, her hand resting loosely on his chest, his mind replayed Azhara's words.
He thought of loyalty, of love, of the strange threads of fate that bound them all together in this fragile Hollow. And as the snow fell silent outside, Kael realized that surviving the winter might prove easier than surviving the quiet storm brewing in his own heart.