Chapter 972 – The Hollow Breathes Again
The Hollow was alive again.
For weeks, the city had pulsed with the tension of war, divine battle, and the return of ancient bloodlines. Now, as dawn stretched golden fingers across the mountains, the settlement seemed to exhale. The air felt clearer, lighter—less burdened by the weight of divine wrath and political danger.
The smell of the forges carried through the lower wards, mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread from the artisans' quarter. Merchants shouted prices. Children ran through the streets, laughing, wooden swords in hand, pretending to be Kael, slayer of gods.
And Kael himself stood on one of the upper balconies of the council spire, arms folded across his chest, watching his people live.
He let the moment linger before turning back inside, the hum of the council chamber drawing him back to duty.
The morning council meeting was routine—but Kael preferred it that way.
Zerathis was first to speak, his gruff voice echoing off the stone walls. "The western walls are complete, and the sentry turrets powered by the stellar engine are fully operational. Not even a bird flies near without the watchers knowing."
"Good," Kael replied. "The last thing we need is another surprise."
Selina added, adjusting her spectacles. "Our research divisions have begun reverse-engineering the chaos conduits we found near the battlefield. Early results show potential for energy distribution across an entire city grid. With more time, the Hollow could run fully on our own systems."
"Make it happen," Kael said, leaning forward. "No outside reliance. No more chance of another church worming its way in."
Varik smirked. "For once, I think you might get that wish."
Fenrik, ever the calm presence, chimed in next. "The people have taken well to the peace. Recruitment's steady, trade is up, and no one's starving. It's… good, Kael. You should take a moment to enjoy it."
Kael chuckled faintly, rising from his seat. "Enjoy it? I will, when I'm sure it'll last."
Zerathis rolled his eyes but smiled all the same.
The day wore on quietly.
Kael found himself where he often did these days—at the infirmary, where Lysara rested.
She was stronger now. Her scales had regained their sheen, and her horns gleamed under the lamplight. She sat upright this time, cross-legged on her bed, quietly reading through reports of the Hollow's development.
"Already running a kingdom from your sickbed?" Kael asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Her lips curved into a smirk. "Old habits die hard, nephew. Dragons were made to rule."
Kael chuckled and stepped in, pulling up a chair. "You've been reading Hollow reports?"
"They're fascinating," she admitted. "Your city runs like a living creature—veins of energy, bones of stone, a heartbeat powered by that stellar engine you made. It reminds me of the old empire."
Kael's expression softened. "That's the idea. Something lasting."
Lysara glanced up at him. "And what about you, Kael? Are you lasting?"
The question caught him off guard. "I… try."
She smiled knowingly. "You've fought gods, saved dragons, built a nation from ash. You should let yourself be, now and then."
"I have," Kael said quietly. "With her."
He meant Lyria. Lysara saw it instantly in his eyes—the warmth there, the grounding comfort.
That evening, Kael walked through the Hollow's gardens, where the lanterns glowed soft and warm. He found Lyria and Eris sitting by the pond, legs crossed, the reflection of the moon dancing on the water between them.
Lyria was laughing, her tone light and teasing as Eris attempted to skip stones, her technique mechanical but slowly improving.
"Try again," Lyria said, smiling. "Flick your wrist, don't throw with your arm."
"I don't see the functional purpose of this act," Eris replied flatly, tossing another stone—this one skipping once before plopping into the water. "…But it is oddly satisfying."
Lyria grinned. "That's the point. Not everything needs a purpose, Eris."
Eris tilted her head, the corners of her lips twitching. "You sound like Kael when you say that."
"Good," Lyria said softly. "He's rubbed off on both of us."
Kael stood a few feet away, watching quietly. The way Lyria's laughter mingled with Eris's quiet curiosity—it stirred something calm and steady in him. This was what he had fought for.
Lyria noticed him first. "You're late."
Kael smirked. "Council ran long. Zerathis was arguing about turret placements again."
Lyria groaned dramatically. "He and Varik need hobbies."
Eris looked up at him, eyes faintly luminous in the dark. "You look… tired."
Kael crouched beside her, smiling. "You're getting good at reading faces."
"I've had practice," she said, her tone quiet but proud.
Later that night, as the Hollow slept under the protection of its glowing barrier, Kael sat atop the highest spire, the wind tugging at his coat.
Eris was somewhere below, analyzing the night sky. Lyria was asleep, curled against his side of the bed. Lysara was healing. The council was running smoothly.
And for the first time in what felt like centuries, Kael felt something almost foreign.
Peace.
He let out a quiet chuckle to himself. "I should get used to this… before the next storm comes."
Somewhere far away, thunder rolled faintly across the horizon.
But for now—the Hollow was whole.
And Kael allowed himself to rest.