Chapter 95 – The Bearer

The whispers had reached beyond the city. By morning, messengers on spectral steeds carried the tale across provinces. Wherever Kael’s name was spoken, eyes widened, and silence followed.

He was becoming more than a man.
He was becoming a fracture.

Aria noticed the shift first. Travelers who once scoffed at him now watched with veiled awe—or fear. But Kael himself remained silent, perched on the edge of campfires, staring into the flames as though they were mirrors to a truth only he could see.

“Every word they speak,” he muttered once, “chains me tighter to something I didn’t choose.”

Aria hesitated. “Or frees you to something greater.”

Kael didn’t answer. The shadows curled closer around him, as if listening.

Far away, in a cathedral that was more stone wound than sanctuary, the sigil-marked man knelt before a cracked altar. His robe parted to reveal flesh etched with living runes, glowing faintly like a heartbeat.

“My lord,” he whispered to the empty chamber. “The echo has begun. The false hero’s existence unravels your tapestry. Shall we pluck him free?”

The altar bled light—silver and cold—and a voice answered, though no mouth spoke.

“Do not destroy him. Feed the fire. A shadow without believers is only smoke. But a shadow feared across the land…”

The voice broke into a low hiss.

“…becomes night itself.”

The man rose, smiling, the sigils burning brighter. “Then I shall carve his legend in blood.”

Back on the road, Kael lifted his gaze to the horizon. He didn’t know why, but the air itself felt heavier, like someone far away had just spoken his name with venom.

For the first time since returning, he wondered—
Was he truly steering his path, or had he already become a pawn in a game older than the world itself?

The night answered with silence. And the silence was louder than any scream.