Chapter 984 – The Hero's Departure
The Hollow buzzed with quiet anticipation that morning. Soldiers, artificers, and scholars gathered along the stone walkways of the citadel's courtyard, their gazes fixed upon the lone figure kneeling before Kael's throne. The newly anointed hero—Aren, the wolkkin—bowed low, his silver fur gleaming beneath the ethereal glow of the chamber's runic lanterns.
Kael stood at the head of the assembly, his presence heavy yet calm. "Aren of the Hollow," he began, voice carrying the weight of command. "You are to journey beyond our borders, into the fractured world we have watched from afar. You are to carry our name not as conqueror, but as guardian. Where chaos reigns, bring order. Where suffering spreads, offer strength. You are to be the light they see when hope falters."
Aren looked up, his amber eyes filled with solemn understanding. "And if they reject that light, my lord?"
Kael smiled faintly. "Then remind them it burns brighter in the dark."
The chamber stirred with approval—subtle nods, faint murmurs. Eris watched quietly from Kael's side, her crystalline eyes soft and thoughtful. She felt the pulsing of his aura, the subtle pride mixed with a bittersweet tension. Beside her, Lyria folded her arms, her expression proud yet faintly maternal as she looked at Aren.
Aren rose to his full height and clasped his right fist across his chest. "Then I will go. For the Hollow. For you."
Kael nodded once, then descended the dais. He clasped the wolkkin's arm firmly. "Return when the world knows our name and no longer whispers it in fear. Go with strength, Aren."
Aren bowed once more, then turned toward the great gates. As the massive steel doors creaked open, light spilled across the floor, and the Hollow's hero stepped into the world beyond—his cloak bearing the crest of the Hollow, fluttering like a banner of promise in the morning wind.
The gates closed slowly behind him, sealing with a deep, resonant thud.
For a moment, Kael stood in silence. The air hummed faintly with energy—the sort of quiet that follows the turning of a page. Then, with a long exhale, he turned to the two women at his side.
"Come," he said simply. "The council can manage without me for one evening."
They spent the rest of the day together in one of the Hollow's upper gardens—an oasis of calm built atop the city's layered structures. Pale vines draped from arched walkways, and softly glowing flowers swayed with the breeze.
Lyria had brought a basket of bread, cheese, and fruits from the kitchen, insisting Kael "try acting human for a day." Kael humored her—though his idea of "acting human" mostly involved observing Eris and Lyria bicker over whether the sky looked more like sapphire or topaz.
Eris tilted her head, genuinely confused. "Why does color matter if the sky is infinite? Its beauty is in its vastness, not its hue."
Lyria laughed, tossing a grape at her. "Because some of us like to enjoy beauty in smaller pieces, crystal-girl."
The grape bounced off Eris's cheek. She blinked, entirely unbothered. "You wasted food for an emotional response?"
Kael chuckled softly—actually chuckled, to the astonishment of both women. "Careful, Lyria. She's starting to understand humor. You'll regret it when she turns it back on you."
Eris's eyes glimmered faintly. "That sounds like a challenge."
For a brief while, they all laughed together—something rare, almost sacred. The weight of the Hollow's endless responsibilities seemed to fade, replaced by the simple joy of existing together.
Later, as the sun dipped low, Kael leaned against the railing, gazing toward the horizon. "He'll do well," he said softly, referring to Aren. "He has the will for it."
Lyria joined him, her hand finding his. "You trained him yourself, Kael. He has your fire."
Eris stood slightly apart, watching them both with a quiet fondness—and something else beneath it. A subtle ache. She placed a hand over her chest, feeling the faint hum of her own growing emotions. "And he carries your purpose," she said quietly. "Your ideals flow through him like current."
Kael turned slightly toward her, his expression warm. "You've changed, Eris."
She blinked, tilting her head. "I've… evolved. I believe that's the correct term."
Lyria smiled knowingly. "No, dear. You've lived."
For a long moment, the three stood together as the Hollow's lanterns flickered to life below—tiny sparks of light scattered across the darkness. The air was cool, serene, peaceful.
Kael exhaled and looked between them. "Tomorrow, we start preparations for the engine's second deployment. But tonight… just this."
Eris hesitated, then stepped closer, allowing herself the smallest, rarest smile. "Just this," she echoed.
And for the first time in a long while, the Hollow's heart—its daemon lord, its warrior queen, and its spirit reborn—beat in unison beneath the quiet stars.