Chapter 952 — Echoes of the Mark
The fires of the cathedral still burned when the allied forces arrived.
Ash hung in the air like smoke-stained snow, drifting through the fractured arches and melted glass that had once been the Church's sacred heart. The Hollow's banners led the way through the carnage, followed by the iron standards of Ironside and the flowing blue sigils of Thalren's sea-guard.
Kael stood at the center of it all, surrounded by ruin.
The ground beneath him still pulsed faintly with chaotic light — the remains of the shattered core buried deep beneath the earth. He could feel it humming against his boots, a distant heartbeat that wasn't his.
Lyria was the first to reach him.
Her steps faltered when she saw him, his armor scorched and his cloak tattered, streaked with soot and something darker. Her voice cracked.
"Kael…"
He turned, meeting her eyes with a look that was both calm and far away.
"It's done," he said simply. "Franklin's men are scattered. The core's broken."
Thalren and Alaric entered behind her, with guards at their flanks. Both leaders were grim-faced, their armor reflecting the burning sky. Alaric's voice rumbled, full of disbelief.
"By the gods… this place looks like the underworld itself."
Thalren added softly, "You fought this battle alone?"
Kael didn't answer at first. He looked toward the dais where Franklin had lain pinned beneath the rubble. The priest was gone. Either dragged away by his remaining zealots or swallowed by the debris itself.
Finally, Kael said, "No. Not alone."
Inside his mind, Eris stirred.
"You shouldn't speak like that." Her tone was almost shy, a ripple of sound only Kael could hear. "They wouldn't understand me."
They don't have to, Kael replied silently. You're not my secret. You're my ally.
"Your… ally." Eris repeated the word as if testing its meaning. "That feels… good."
But even as she said it, Kael felt it — a faint tremor running through his hand, a pulse in his veins that didn't fade with the chaos dispersing.
Lyria noticed his distraction, her brow furrowing. "Kael, are you hurt?"
He shook his head. "No. Just… feeling the aftermath."
Thalren approached the remains of the crystal fragments scattered across the ground. "Whatever they were building," he said, crouching beside one, "it wasn't a weapon of this world. These shards… they still hum with life."
Kael's eyes flicked toward him. "Don't touch them." His tone was sharper than intended, enough that Thalren froze mid-reach. "The daemon inside — it's free now. But its power lingers."
Alaric's gaze cut to him. "Daemon?"
Kael nodded once. "The Church was harvesting them. Feeding on their essence to make chaos cores."
The other rulers exchanged looks — a mixture of horror and grim understanding. The weight of what Kael had just said settled over the ruined cathedral like a shroud.
"Then it's true," Thalren said at last. "They've been trying to build gods."
Kael's answer was quiet. "And I think… they succeeded. For a time."
Later that night, Kael stood on the outskirts of the cathedral ruins, looking up at the stars through a rent in the ceiling.
The air was cold now, the fires dying to embers.
He could feel Eris moving within him — not like a parasite, but like a current of thought that wasn't entirely his own. Her voice broke the silence.
"That daemon you freed… its presence hasn't faded. I can sense it through you."
Kael's brow tightened. "You said it left a mark."
"Yes," Eris replied. "It clings to your chaos. Like a reflection that refuses to disappear. I've been trying to… isolate it."
Kael let out a tired breath. "And?"
"It feels ancient. Familiar. Like me… but older. And angry."
That drew his attention. "Like you?"
There was a pause before she answered, quieter now. "I think it was part of the same energy that created me. When you healed the queen in Greystone, the chaos that took form inside you… maybe it wasn't only me that was born."
Kael closed his eyes, the weight of realization heavy in his chest. "Then it's linked to us."
"Yes," Eris said softly. "And I think it's watching."
The words lingered in his mind as he turned toward the smoldering horizon. Somewhere out there, Franklin was still alive — and the Church would not stop.
He straightened, feeling the faint pulse in his veins again.
For the first time, it didn't feel foreign. It felt connected.
Eris whispered, barely audible. "Whatever comes next, I'll be with you."
Kael nodded slowly. "I know."
But as the wind carried the last of the cathedral's smoke into the night, Kael couldn't help but wonder — was the daemon's gaze still on him… or was it already inside?