Chapter 942 — Letters and Shadows
The council chamber was quiet save for the soft rustle of parchment and the occasional crackle of the hearth. Morning light spilled through the tall windows, cutting across the long obsidian table where Kael sat surrounded by scrolls and sealed envelopes. His eyes moved over each symbol with deliberate care—the crest of Ironside's anvil, Greystone's crowned lion, and the Ocean Kingdom's trident of pearl.
Each one represented a decision. A promise. A risk.
Eris stood near the far wall, silent as ever, her posture straight and her newly human eyes tracking Kael's movements with faint curiosity. He noticed it—not for the first time. There was something different in her now. Not the stoic precision she once carried, but something… softer.
He couldn't name it, but he felt it in the way her gaze lingered a heartbeat too long, or how her voice carried a subtle hesitation when she addressed him.
But he had no time to dwell on it.
He broke the seal on the first letter—Ironside's. The heavy wax cracked under his thumb, and he skimmed the contents quickly.
"Lord Kael, the Iron Council stands ready to attend your summit in the Hollow. The forging of unity among kings may yet temper the chaos our world bleeds from."
— Alaric Ironsoul, High Marshal of Ironside.
Kael exhaled, tension easing slightly. Thalren was cautious, but his signature at the bottom was a promise of action.
The next was from Greystone. He recognized Queen Lysandra's handwriting before he even read the seal.
"Kael, your vision for a Kings' Coalition is bold. Dangerous, perhaps—but necessary. Greystone will send its full delegation. The future of peace may well depend on your courage."
Her words steadied him more than he wanted to admit.
The final letter—bearing the silver-blue seal of the Ocean Kingdom—was different. The parchment smelled faintly of salt and stormwater.
"Lord Kael, we have received your proposal. The tides favor unity, but beware—some currents drag deeper than they appear. We will attend. For the sake of balance."
— Thalren Tideborn, Sovereign of the Deep Court.
Kael set the letter down slowly, rubbing his temples. It was done. All three had agreed.
"Eris," he said finally, breaking the silence.
She stepped forward, her motion almost too smooth—still part spirit in her grace. "Yes, Kael?"
"Send word to Selina to begin preparations for the summit hall. We'll host the coalition meeting within seven days."
She nodded, but he saw it again—the faint flicker of emotion in her expression. A strange, fragile light behind her eyes. When she turned to leave, Kael spoke again.
"Eris."
She stopped, her head tilting slightly, the way she used to when trying to process human mannerisms. "Yes?"
"You've been… different lately," Kael said carefully. "More distant, but also… thoughtful." He met her gaze. "Is something wrong?"
Her lips parted, but no words came for a long moment. Finally, she said softly, "No. Not wrong. Just… new."
Kael frowned faintly. "New?"
She hesitated again. "Emotions. Sensations. I am… learning to feel them more clearly. It's disorienting."
He nodded slowly, understanding flickering in his eyes. "You're adapting faster than I thought."
"It feels…" she paused, searching for a word that didn't quite exist, "like chaos—but gentle. Like the sea before a storm."
Kael smiled faintly at that. "That's a poetic way to describe it."
"I learned from you," she said simply.
That response caught him off guard—too human, too sincere. He didn't know how to respond, so he simply turned back to the table, gesturing to the letters. "These replies change everything, Eris. If the coalition holds, it could reshape the balance of power across the continent."
Eris's gaze lingered on him, her voice almost a whisper. "And if it fails?"
Kael didn't look up. "Then the Hollow stands alone again. And next time, the church won't be rebuilding weapons—they'll be rebuilding armies."
The fire crackled softly in the silence that followed.
Eris stepped closer, her tone gentle. "You carry too much weight on yourself."
"Someone has to," Kael murmured.
"But you are not alone," she said, her voice firm, her eyes bright. "You have us. You have me."
He finally looked up, and for the briefest instant, her words stirred something he couldn't quite define—a flicker of warmth and confusion beneath his hardened calm.
"I know," he said at last. "And that's what keeps me moving."
Eris inclined her head, though her expression lingered with something unsaid.
As she turned to leave, Kael watched her go—the faint sway of her step, the sunlight glancing off her hair. Once, she had been a voice in his mind. Now she was flesh and blood, walking away from him like a person who mattered.
And yet, a strange unease lingered in him. Something about the way she'd said you have me felt too heavy, too personal.
He shook the thought away, forcing his focus back to the letters and the plan ahead. The coalition needed him sharp, composed, unshaken.
But as the door closed behind Eris, he couldn't ignore the echo of her words in his mind—words that carried warmth, devotion… and something perilously close to love.