Chapter 234: The Return
The forest was alive with the sounds of dusk—the distant hoot of owls, the whisper of branches swaying against one another, the faint chatter of unseen creatures rustling in the undergrowth. Kael led the way, each footstep deliberate, his sword strapped across his back but his hand never far from the hilt.
Behind him, Lyria moved with silent grace, her eyes sharp, scanning every shadow. Thalos carried their torch, its glow painting golden rings across the trees. Azhara followed close, whispering soft wards of protection under her breath.
And between them all, little Eira walked, small hand clasped firmly in Azhara's.
The girl hadn't spoken much since they left the Hollow. Fear clung to her like a cloak, though she walked with the determination of someone who wanted only one thing—to see her mother again.
Kael glanced back at her, offering a faint nod. "We'll find her soon. Trust me."
The girl didn't reply, but her grip on Azhara's hand tightened.
It was Thalos who heard it first—the faint cry carried on the wind. He raised a hand, signaling for silence. The group froze.
"Listen," Thalos whispered.
They waited. The night pressed around them, heavy and watchful. Then—there it was. A woman's voice, ragged with desperation.
"Eira! Eira!"
The little girl's head snapped up. "Mama!" she cried, her small voice piercing the dark.
Kael grimaced. "Stay close. We move."
They followed the sound quickly, weaving between thick roots and low branches until they came upon a small clearing.
A woman knelt in the dirt, her hair tangled, her hands raw from clawing through brush. Her eyes were wild with panic, searching the shadows as she shouted for her daughter.
Beside her stood a man—lean, weather-worn, holding a crude hunting spear. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion, but his eyes burned fiercely as he tried to keep watch over his wife.
At the sound of the child's cry, the woman turned, her face crumpling with disbelief.
"Eira?"
"Mama!"
The little girl broke free from Azhara's hand and ran across the clearing. The woman caught her up instantly, collapsing to her knees as tears streamed freely down her face.
"My baby," she whispered, clutching the girl to her chest. "My baby…"
The man hurried to them, dropping his spear as he embraced them both. His voice cracked with relief. "We thought we'd lost you."
The reunion might have lasted longer—should have lasted longer—but Kael's instincts prickled. He scanned the treeline, every muscle taut.
Something was wrong.
The forest had gone too quiet.
Then he heard it—the low, guttural growl.
From the shadows, eyes gleamed. First two. Then four. Then six.
Wolves.
Big, lean, hungry. A pack drawn by the scent of weakness.
The largest stepped forward, hackles raised, teeth bared in a silent snarl.
"Behind us," Kael ordered the family, stepping forward and drawing his magisteel blade in one smooth motion. The steel shimmered faintly in the torchlight.
Lyria was already moving, her bow strung, an arrow notched and aimed at the alpha's throat. Thalos lifted his torch high, the flames crackling brighter, casting the wolves into sharper relief. Azhara planted her feet, magic already crackling faintly around her hands.
The wolves circled, snarling now, their growls a chorus of hunger and challenge.
"They're testing us," Lyria murmured, eyes never leaving her target. "Seeing if we'll break."
Kael bared his teeth in something that wasn't quite a smile. "Then let's show them what happens when they test the Hollow."
The alpha lunged.
Lyria's arrow flew, striking true. The beast yelped, twisting midair before crashing to the ground. The rest of the pack howled in fury, surging forward.
Kael met them head-on, his blade flashing like lightning. He cleaved through one wolf's leap, turning its momentum into a spray of blood and fur. Another snapped at his leg, but a booted kick sent it sprawling.
To his right, Thalos swung the torch in wide arcs, fire hissing as it scorched the wolves' fur. They recoiled from the flame, snarling, but lunged again.
Azhara's eyes glowed faintly white. She extended both hands, chanting low. The nearest wolf stumbled mid-charge, its legs buckling as though crushed by invisible weight. Another let out a strangled whine, its eyes flooding red as blood trickled from its sockets.
"Go to sleep," she whispered through clenched teeth. "Stay down."
Kael moved like a storm, cutting through their hesitation. Each swing of his magisteel blade struck with brutal finality, leaving broken bodies in his wake.
But there were too many.
The family cowered behind them, the mother shielding Eira with her body, the father clutching the spear he'd dropped earlier, though his hands shook.
A wolf slipped past the defenders, snapping at the family.
"Kael!" Lyria shouted.
Before Kael could move, an arrow whistled past his ear, striking the wolf clean through the skull. It crumpled inches from the mother's back.
Kael grunted his thanks without looking back, driving his sword through another attacker.
The pack's numbers dwindled quickly. One by one they fell, until only two remained. Bloodied and snarling, they backed away, hackles raised, before turning and vanishing into the night.
The clearing fell silent again, save for the heavy breaths of the living.
Kael wiped his blade clean on the grass, then sheathed it with a grim nod. "It's done."
The mother still clung to Eira, sobbing into her hair. The father straightened, his voice hoarse but steady. "We owe you everything."
Kael shook his head. "You owe us nothing. Keeping people safe—that's why we fight. That's why the Hollow exists."
The man's gaze softened, gratitude burning in his tired eyes.
Lyria approached Kael's side, lowering her bow. "We should move. Wolves don't hunt alone forever."
Kael nodded. He turned to the family. "We'll escort you back. You won't be alone tonight."
And so, with the Hollow's guardians forming a shield around them, the family of three returned through the darkened forest.
At the center of it all, Eira held her parents' hands tightly, her small face lifted toward Kael and Azhara with a look that was no longer fear—
but trust.