Chapter 965 — Echoes of Heart and Shadow
Morning light fell through the high windows of the council hall, spilling across the stone floor like rivers of gold. The Hollow thrummed with life again — laughter, forge-song, and the steady rhythm of a people rebuilding themselves after chaos. Yet even as that peace stretched long and golden, Kael could not shake the unease in his chest.
He sat at the council table, listening as Varik spoke of the new trade routes and Fenrik listed the Hollow's growing reserves of steel and grain. Everything was thriving. Everything was stable.
So why did it feel like a calm before the storm?
Eris stood at his side, silent as always, her silver eyes scanning the hall. Since her rebirth, she'd become a quiet constant — the whisper behind Kael's thoughts given shape and presence. But now, she rarely spoke into his mind. She stood near him, watching, learning, feeling.
Lyria sat across from Kael, hands folded, her gaze flitting toward Eris now and then with a hint of admiration — and something more complex beneath it. It wasn't distrust anymore. If anything, Lyria had come to understand Eris deeply through their late-night conversations.
But understanding something didn't mean it couldn't unsettle you.
When the council dispersed, Kael and Eris walked through the Hollow's upper terraces — past gardens of redleaf vine and the laughter of apprentices sparring with wooden blades.
"You've been quiet," Kael said. "Usually, you have a dozen observations by now."
Eris tilted her head, her hair glinting like pale fire in the light. "I have been observing something different."
"Oh?"
"You and Lyria."
Kael raised a brow. "What about us?"
"I watch her with you. When she looks at you, her heart beats faster. Her pupils contract. Her speech softens. I think it is affection."
Kael smiled faintly. "It is. That's what love looks like."
Eris's gaze lingered on him. "When I look at you, I feel something different. Tightness in my chest. Uncertainty. I do not think it is love. It is… confusion."
Kael stopped walking, turning toward her. The faint wind stirred the hem of her robe. "You're learning what it means to want, Eris. It doesn't have to make sense."
Eris frowned slightly, more human in that gesture than she'd ever been. "If emotion only confuses me, why do I crave more of it?"
Kael chuckled softly. "Because that's how you grow."
But her next words made him pause.
"Do you ever fear that you'll lose control of me?"
Kael blinked. "What?"
"I was born from your chaos," she said, her tone even, analytical. "I was meant to be your balance, your logic. Yet now, I am learning your feelings, your attachments, your desires. What if I become something you can't predict?"
Kael exhaled slowly, eyes softening. "Eris, if that day ever came, I'd still trust you. Because I didn't create you to obey — I created you to live."
Eris looked away, eyes flickering like starlight on still water. "Then I will learn to be worthy of that trust."
Later that evening, Kael and Lyria walked together through the hollow's central square. The sound of music from a nearby tavern drifted across the cobblestones. Lyria had taken to walking with him more often — small, private moments between the chaos of leadership.
"You've done something incredible with her," she said softly. "She's… learning to be one of us."
Kael nodded. "Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing. Giving her form. Giving her this path."
Lyria smiled faintly. "You gave her a chance. What she does with it — that's her story."
There was something in her tone — admiration, yes, but also a quiet shadow. Kael caught it, and before he could ask, she added, "Just… be careful, Kael. She watches you in a way no one else does. I don't think she even understands what she's feeling yet."
Kael frowned. "You think she's—"
Lyria laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, not like that. Not yet. But she's attached to you, deeply. You're her creator, her anchor, her everything. That's a dangerous kind of dependence — even for someone with a heart."
Kael's gaze dropped. "I'll keep that in mind."
That same night, Eris stood on the balcony of the science hall, staring out at the Hollow below. The moonlight brushed over her face like silver silk.
She had spent hours watching Kael and Lyria from afar, analyzing their laughter, their touches, the strange, invisible gravity that bound them together.
For the first time in her existence, she wished to be a part of that gravity — to understand what it felt like to be seen that way.
A small ache bloomed behind her ribs — dull, persistent, and utterly alien. She pressed a hand against it, whispering into the quiet, "Is this… jealousy?"
The wind answered her only with silence.
And somewhere deep within the Hollow, beneath the hum of forges and life, a ripple of darker energy pulsed through the ley-lines — faint, distant, and growing stronger.
The peace Kael had fought so hard to build was trembling at its edges.