Chapter 335 – Ashes and Crowns
The tent was dimly lit, the glow of lanterns filtered through the thin canvas walls, painting wavering shadows across Kael's face as he lay on his bedroll. His body was heavy, battered by wounds both seen and unseen, but his mind was restless. He had awoken to the scent of herbs and smoke, his chest tight with the phantom weight of battle.
Azhara sat close, her hands folded in her lap, though her eyes never left him. She looked frayed, the healer's glow that usually surrounded her dimmed by exhaustion and grief. Beside her was Lyria, her silver hair loose and shining faintly in the lantern light, her gaze sharp and yet softened by worry. They were silent until Kael stirred, blinking against the haze of waking.
"You're awake," Lyria said at last, her voice a whisper as though she feared that words themselves might shatter him.
Azhara's lips trembled, but her words were sharp. "You fool."
Kael turned his head toward her, his throat raw. "Azhara—"
"No." Her voice cracked, edged in grief and rage. She struck his chest with her small fist, her tears falling freely. "You don't get to speak yet. You don't get to act like nothing happened when you nearly—when you nearly left us broken and buried beneath your arrogance!"
Kael's breath caught. He tried to rise, but she shoved him down with more strength than her small frame should have held.
"You caged us!" she cried, her voice breaking. "You bound us like prisoners while you fought alone. Do you have any idea what that did to us? Do you have any idea what it did to me?" Her voice softened to a near whisper, trembling as tears streaked down her face. "I thought I was watching the man I—" She stopped herself, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. "—the man I needed most be torn apart while I could do nothing."
Kael's chest clenched. Her words were knives driven into his heart, deeper and sharper than any blade from the battlefield.
Lyria's voice followed, calmer, but no less piercing. "You think carrying the burden alone makes you noble. That by dying for us, you spare us. But all it does is leave us powerless and hollow. We are not pawns to be shielded—we are your council, your family. Yet you stripped us of choice."
Kael swallowed hard, his voice hoarse. "I thought… if I fell, it would be me alone, not all of you."
Azhara's tears fell onto his chest as she shook her head. "You don't understand. We'd rather fall beside you than live in a world where you are gone."
Her words silenced him. His body trembled, guilt tearing through him like a sickness. His hand rose slowly, brushing her cheek, then Lyria's fingers, grounding himself in their touch.
"I'm sorry," Kael whispered, voice raw and nearly broken. "For everything. For leaving you powerless, for treating you as less than what you are. I was wrong."
Neither woman answered, but they didn't move away. Their silence was enough—for now.
The flap of the tent shifted, and the scent of sea air replaced the staleness of blood and ash. Thalren entered, dressed in simple leathers, his ocean-blue eyes sharp but softened by something almost like pity.
"You're tougher than you look," the Sea King said, folding his arms.
Kael forced a tired smile. "And you're far too clean for a man walking through ruins."
Thalren chuckled once before stepping closer, clasping Kael's forearm. The strength in his grip was steady, grounding. "Your people still look to you. Even now, after all this. That loyalty is rare."
Kael's gaze dropped, his chest tight. "Loyalty I don't deserve. Not after I caged them."
Thalren studied him for a long moment before placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps not. But you will earn it back. And that begins now. Face them."
Kael's jaw tightened, his shame thick in his throat. "Then call the council."
The council chamber was barely more than charred stone and rebuilt timbers. Smoke stains still marred the walls, and ash clung to the floorboards. Yet the council stood ready—Rogan, Varik, Selina, Fenrik, and Zerathis, their bodies still bearing bruises and burns. Their eyes locked on Kael the moment he entered, supported by Azhara's arm, Lyria close at his side, and Thalren behind him.
Kael drew a deep breath, the words already heavy on his tongue. "Thank you all for—"
Rogan's fist crashed into his jaw with a sickening crack, cutting him off.
The blow hurled Kael to the ground. Blood spattered from his lip as he gasped, stunned, his vision swimming. Silence fell over the chamber before Rogan's roar shattered it.
"You arrogant bastard!" Rogan thundered, his face twisted in fury and grief. "You don't get to choose our lives for us! You don't get to decide who lives and who dies while you bleed alone! Do you think we're so weak? Do you think we don't care?"
Kael stared up at him in shock, his mind blank, the words strangled in his throat.
Selina's voice cut in, sharp as a blade: "You belittled us! You made us into prisoners while you played the martyr!"
Varik's voice was cold, measured, but no less damning. "I would have laid down my life beside you. Instead, you stripped me of the right to choose. You made me watch."
Fenrik spat to the side, his face dark with rage. "You caged us like children. You made us watch while you slaughtered yourself against an army. Do you know what that does to a man's soul?"
Lyria's voice, softer but trembling with pain, struck the deepest. "You don't understand what you did to us, Kael. What you did to me."
Kael's breath caught. He had expected their anger, but not this. Not the raw, searing pain in their words. His lips parted, but no answer came. Shame flooded him, leaving him hollow and trembling on the ash-stained floor.
For a long, aching moment, he stayed silent.
Then slowly, painfully, Kael pressed his palms to the ground and bowed. Not a shallow nod, not a token gesture. He bent low, his forehead pressed against the soot-stained stone. His voice, when it came, was raw and ragged.
"I was wrong. I caged you when I should have trusted you. I bore the burden alone and left you powerless. For that… I beg your forgiveness. Strike me, curse me, hate me—I deserve it. But know this: never again will I treat you as less than my equals."
The chamber fell silent. The council stared at him, stunned by the sight of their lord, their dragon, humbled so low.
At last, Kael turned, his body shaking as he lowered himself further before Thalren. His forehead pressed once more to the earth.
"King Thalren… thank you. For sheltering my people, for sending aid when I could not stand. For being the strength I could not. You have my gratitude… and my debt."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Even kings bled. Even kings broke. And Kael, bowed in ash and ruin, had never seemed more human.