⚔️ **CHAPTER 15 — Where Silence Learns Your Name**
The forest thinned after three days.
Not suddenly—nothing in exile ended cleanly—but slowly, the trees growing shorter, the ground softer, the air heavier with mist. Kael walked without urgency now. Not because he felt safe, but because running made the world louder.
And he needed quiet.
Each step sank slightly into damp earth. His boots were worn. His cloak carried the smell of smoke and rain. He had stopped counting meals.
*You're slowing down,* the second voice observed—not accusing, just aware.
"I know," Kael replied.
*You could draw from me.*
Kael shook his head. "Not yet."
Power solved problems quickly. Too quickly. And Kael was learning that speed often hid consequences.
By dusk, he reached a clearing where stone ruins slept beneath moss and creeping vines. A broken arch leaned sideways, its carvings worn smooth by time and neglect.
This place had once mattered.
Now, it was forgotten.
Kael sat against a fallen pillar and removed his sword. He cleaned the blade carefully, even though there was no blood on it. The motion grounded him.
For a long while, neither of them spoke.
Then—
*Do you resent me?* the second voice asked.
Kael paused.
"No," he said honestly. "I resent the people who decided only one of us could exist."
The presence inside him felt… quieter. Not weaker. Just listening.
*I had dreams,* the voice said after a long silence. *Simple ones.*
Kael closed his eyes. "Me too."
That was when he heard footsteps.
Not hurried.
Not hidden.
Just… there.
Kael's hand moved to his sword, but he didn't rise.
An old man emerged from the mist, leading a mule with uneven steps. His clothes were patched, his back bent, his eyes sharp in a tired way.
"Evening," the man said, as if ruins and armed strangers were ordinary things. "You planning to stab me, or may I sit?"
Kael studied him.
No aura.
No killing intent.
No seals.
"Sit," Kael said.
The man lowered himself onto a stone, wincing. "Name's **Hearth**. Or it was, once."
Kael offered his own—still just Kael.
They shared silence again, broken only by the mule chewing grass.
"You look like someone who's been erased," Hearth said eventually.
Kael let out a small breath. "That obvious?"
"To those who know," the old man replied. "Places like this attract leftovers. People. Memories. Gods that didn't win."
Kael glanced at the ruins. "What was this place?"
"A waystation," Hearth said. "For those who chose to walk instead of kneel."
That stayed with Kael.
Hearth reached into his bag and tossed Kael a piece of dried bread. Kael caught it, surprised.
"No charge," the old man said. "Food tastes better without debt."
Kael ate slowly.
Night settled. No attack came. No hunters. Just mist and stars.
Before sleeping, Hearth spoke again.
"You'll be followed," he said. "Not tonight. Not loudly. But the world doesn't like unresolved things."
Kael nodded. "I know."
Hearth smiled faintly. "Good. Means you might survive."
When Kael woke, the old man and mule were gone.
Only footprints leading away from the ruins.
And something else—
A faint symbol carved into the broken arch. Fresh. Intentional.
Not a seal.
A **mark**.
*What is it?* the second voice asked.
Kael traced it with his fingers.
"I don't know," he said. "But I think… it's an invitation."
The mist began to lift.
And for the first time since exile, Kael didn't feel chased.
He felt **waited for**.