Chapter 979 – Sparks in the Hollow
The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that came only after days of planning and motion.
The Hollow's upper terraces glowed faintly beneath the starlight, its crystalline towers pulsing with life from the Stellar Engine's rhythm.
Kael stood in his study, bent over a map that stretched from one corner of his war table to the other. Candlelight flickered over his features — that sharp, calculating expression that came whenever he was building something greater than himself.
He traced a finger over the routes of trade caravans, border crossings, and mountain passes where rumors could easily spread.
"The first whispers will start here," Kael murmured. "A wanderer who protects villages from raiders. Word of him will move like fire in dry grass."
He paused, jotting notes in the margin, his thoughts turning sharper. "We'll need someone believable — not a soldier, but not a stranger to battle either. Someone the people could love… not fear."
He heard the soft hum of footsteps behind him before the voice came.
"You're talking to yourself again," Lyria teased gently.
Kael didn't look up. "It helps me think."
"Or helps you forget you haven't slept."
She approached the table, her silver hair catching the light as she leaned beside him. Her hand brushed his forearm as she looked over his work — a simple touch, but enough to ground him.
"The Hollow needs a face," Kael said. "We can't always act from the shadows. Not anymore."
"You're building a hero, Kael," Lyria said softly, eyes narrowing slightly. "That's… a dangerous thing to build."
He smirked faintly. "So are gods. Yet they fall, too."
Behind the half-closed door, unseen, Eris lingered. She had come to deliver a progress report, but the sight of them — Kael's focus, Lyria's closeness — stilled her steps.
She shouldn't have felt it, but she did. That odd, restless stirring again. The ache in her chest that made logic falter.
She turned to leave, but Lyria's voice reached her before she could retreat.
"Eris," Lyria called, her tone gentle but firm. "You've been listening long enough. Come in."
Caught, Eris entered the room, her crystalline eyes lowering slightly. "I was not eavesdropping," she said stiffly.
Lyria grinned. "Of course you weren't."
Kael gestured toward the map. "Actually, this works. I could use your mind on this."
Eris approached, her voice calm but her heart fluttering — that strange human flutter she still hadn't learned to suppress. "You are trying to craft myth," she said. "Not a simple story, but a living one. That requires consistency. Lies cannot endure without truth to anchor them."
Kael nodded, impressed. "Exactly."
Lyria raised a brow. "Meaning?"
"Meaning we will need someone real," Kael said. "Someone who believes what they're doing matters. The more genuine the emotion, the stronger the legend."
Eris felt that word — emotion — sink deeper than it should have. She could feel it move through her like heat through glass.
Kael smiled slightly. "You understand people better than you think, Eris."
Her throat tightened. "I only… observe."
"Observation is the first step toward empathy."
The room went quiet for a moment — the kind of quiet that hummed with unspoken weight. Then Kael straightened, his mind already whirring again.
"I'll have the council draw up a list of candidates," he said, rolling up the map. "Someone out there can carry this burden. I'll just make sure it's the right one."
When Kael left to speak with Varik and Zerathis, the room felt oddly still. Eris turned to Lyria, her expression more pensive than usual.
Lyria tilted her head. "You're quiet tonight."
"I'm… conflicted," Eris admitted after a pause. "I watched you both speak — so easily, so naturally — and I felt…" She hesitated, searching for the word. "Uneven."
Lyria blinked, her tone softening. "Uneven?"
Eris nodded. "It is as if… my center shifts when I look at you, and again when I look at Kael. I thought affection was meant to be directed, not divided. And yet…"
She trailed off, unsure whether to say more.
Lyria smiled, though there was an almost tender sadness in her eyes. "You're feeling affection, Eris. That's a good thing. You're learning what it means to care."
"But caring is not logical."
"No," Lyria said, stepping closer, "it's not. It's messy. It's beautiful. And it's ours."
Eris's gaze flickered upward, her crystalline irises glowing faintly. "Then how do I know which feeling is right?"
Lyria reached out and took Eris's hand — slow, deliberate, without force. "You don't. You explore it until it feels true."
Eris's breath hitched, something like warmth fluttering under her ribs. "I am… afraid."
Lyria smiled. "So was I, when I met him."
For a moment, the two stood there, a spark of quiet understanding blooming between them — not romantic yet, but deeply human.
From beyond the open window, a faint echo of Kael's voice drifted back as he gave orders to the guards below. The Hollow was alive, moving, rebuilding.
And so was Eris.
For the first time since she was born from chaos and code, she realized that growth didn't always come from reason. Sometimes, it came from feeling — and tonight, she was feeling everything all at once.