Chapter 32
The sun was setting slowly behind the rooftops of the city, painting the sky in red and gold. In the alleys, the crowd scattered, the cries of merchants giving way to the murmurs of taverns. Kael, hidden beneath his illusion, walked with a calm, steady pace.
He had learned to measure his presence. Once, he vanished by blending into the shadows, invisible and cold. But lately, he had realized that sometimes it was better to exist in the eyes of others. Not to draw attention… but not to flee from it either.
A Help, Calculated… or Sincere?
At the turn of a street, he spotted two men roughing up an old man, trying to wrest from him a purse far too light to deserve such violence. Normally, Kael would have looked away. Such scenes were commonplace, and he had never interfered in what did not concern him.
This time, however, he stopped.
One of the thugs raised his fist. Before it could fall, Kael lifted a hand, weaving a subtle illusion—behind them, the flash of a torch, the sound of boots. The two men, believing the guard was approaching, fled with curses.
The trembling old man lifted his eyes toward Kael.
"Th-thank you… I… I have nothing to…"
Kael cut him off with an almost warm smile.
"Save your strength. You owe me nothing."
And to his own surprise, he truly meant it.
Nerya and the Conversations
Later, he found Nerya in her shop. The healer was arranging her herbs, her face lined with fatigue.
"You again?" she said with a hint of irony.
Kael smirked.
"Am I to understand I'm a nuisance?"
"Not exactly… but you're a mystery, and I don't do well with mysteries."
He sat on a wooden crate, arms crossed.
"A mystery is often safer than a truth."
Nerya stared at him, then shook her head with a soft laugh.
"You're impossible."
For the first time in years, Kael laughed too. A brief laugh, almost forgotten, that rattled in his chest.
This time, it wasn't a mask. Not entirely.
Emotions Betrayed
They spoke for a long while. About the city, the poor, the rumors drifting through the streets. Nerya spoke with passion, her words simple but sincere. Kael, usually so reserved, found himself responding more than he intended.
He even allowed himself a veiled confession:
"You know… sometimes I wonder if men destroy themselves out of hatred… or simply because they've forgotten how to live together."
Nerya blinked, surprised.
"That's a grim thought… but it rings true."
Kael turned his gaze away, unsettled by his own honesty.
The Cracked Mask
Leaving the shop, Kael lifted his eyes to the night sky.
He was no fool: he was still manipulating, still playing a role. But that role was becoming more natural, more human. And he no longer knew if he should fear it… or accept it.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Perhaps masks are sometimes truer than faces…" he whispered.
In the shadows, Kael moved forward. No longer just as a cold specter… but as a man rediscovering what it meant to live.