Chapter 3: The Seal of Purity
Kael's POV
The wall is getting hungrier.
I can feel it now even without closing my eyes—a cold spot in the room that drinks the light and warmth. Mom says I'm imagining things, that demonic taint doesn't work that fast. But the Echo Core hums a warning in my chest whenever I get near the west wall, and it's never been wrong before.
"It's bigger today," I tell Mom at breakfast, pushing my oatmeal around the bowl. "The dead spot. It's grown since yesterday."
She gives me that look—the one that means she's worried but trying not to show it. "We'll check after lessons, Kael. Finish your food."
But I can't. The humming in my chest has become a constant, anxious vibration. It's like having a bee trapped under my skin, one that only stings when I look at the wall.
Lorian shuffles in, his crystal resonator already chiming softly. "The water conduit is showing early signs of contamination," he says without greeting. "If the corruption reaches our fresh water..."
He doesn't need to finish. Even I know what that means.
Mom's chair scrapes against stone. "Show me."
We all go to the conduit chamber, where clean water from deep underground springs flows through crystal pipes. Usually, this room feels bright and alive. Today, there's a film over everything, like dust on a forgotten window.
"Here," I say, pointing to where the main pipe enters the wall. "It's thin now, but it's spreading through the stone toward the water."
Mom places her hands on the pipe, her eyes closing. When they open again, they're full of storm. "You're right. The taint has reached the conduit wall." She turns to Lorian. "How long?"
"Days. Perhaps a week before the water becomes undrinkable." The old priest looks older than I've ever seen him. "We can't survive without this source."
Elenya's POV
My son's sensitivity terrifies me.
He shouldn't be able to detect corruption this subtle, this early. Not at five years old. The Echo Core is awakening abilities in him that normally take decades to develop, and the demonic half of his heritage seems to be enhancing perceptions that should still be dormant.
"The texts mention nothing like this," I whisper to Lorian while Kael examines the conduit with heartbreaking seriousness. "No Vireon heir has shown this level of sensitivity before the age of fifteen."
"The dual nature of his bloodline may be creating... synergies we don't understand," Lorian replies, his voice low. "The Demon Sovereign's affinity for corruption might be allowing him to detect it more readily."
A cold fear grips me. What if his demonic heritage isn't just a danger to be controlled, but is actively shaping how his powers develop? What if we're not training an Architect, but creating something else entirely?
"Mom?" Kael's small voice pulls me from my dark thoughts. "The dead feeling—it's not just in the wall anymore. It's in the pipe now too. Faint, but growing."
I place my hand against the crystal conduit, reaching out with my own senses. It takes me a full minute to detect what he found instantly—the barest whisper of corruption seeping through the stone into the water system.
He's right. We have days at most.
Kael's POV
Mom and Lorian are talking in those hushed voices again, the ones that mean things are bad. I hate when they do that. I'm not a baby—I can handle the truth.
The Echo Core is showing me things now without me even asking. Flashes of other conduits, other times water systems failed. A memory of a great city where everyone got sick from poisoned wells. The taste of fear in someone's mouth—my ancestor's mouth—when he realized what was happening.
"I can fix it," I say, louder than I mean to.
They both stop talking and look at me.
"Kael," Mom begins gently, "this is advanced purification work. Even experienced—"
"I can see how," I insist. "The Core is showing me."
It's true. When I look at the contaminated area, overlapping images appear—ghostly diagrams of energy flows, suggestions for sigil placements, memories of similar problems being solved. It's like having a dozen master Architects whispering advice all at once.
Lorian looks at me with that curious expression he gets when I surprise him. "What does the Core show you, young prince?"
I close my eyes, letting the memories flow through me. "We can't kill the sickness. Not yet. It's too strong, and I'm too little. But we can... box it in. Like putting a fence around a wild animal."
I open my eyes and trace a pattern in the air—one the Core showed me. It's not the perfect, beautiful sigils Mom makes. This one is jagged, practical, all sharp angles and containment lines.
"Sealing sigils," Mom breathes, her eyes wide. "Where did you learn that design?"
"The Core remembered someone named Alaric. He used these when the Silver City's foundations were poisoned."
Lorian looks like someone just handed him a priceless treasure. "Architect Alaric? He lived eight hundred years ago! His containment techniques were lost when the capital fell!"
Elenya's POV
My son is channeling long-dead masters, and he doesn't even understand the magnitude of what he's doing.
The sigil he just drew—crude as it was—matches diagrams I've only seen in restricted archives. Architect Alaric's containment protocols were legendary, used to save entire cities from demonic infestation.
"Show me more," I tell him, keeping my voice calm despite the storm of emotions inside me. "What else does the Core show you?"
Kael's eyes go distant, that silver glow intensifying. "We need... seven points. Like the seven pillars in the great temple. One here," he points to where the conduit enters the wall, "and six more in a circle around the sick area. They have to be perfect, or the sickness will find the cracks."
He's describing a high-level containment ward that normally requires a team of trained Architects to implement. And he's doing it from memory—memories that aren't his.
"We'll need purified crystal dust for the sigils," Lorian says, already moving toward the supply cabinets. "And concentrated throne-energy to activate them."
Kael's POV
My head hurts. The Core is showing me so many things at once—different ways to draw the sigils, how much energy each one needs, what happens if we get the angles wrong. It's like trying to drink from a waterfall.
"Slow down," I whisper to the voices in my head. "I'm just one person."
The memories quiet slightly, settling into a steady stream instead of a flood. I can work with this.
For the next two days, we work non-stop. Mom draws the main sigils while I guide her—correcting angles, adjusting energy levels, pointing out flaws she can't see but I can feel. Lorian prepares the materials and keeps watch for any changes in the corruption.
It's exhausting. Sometimes I have to stop and just breathe, repeating my mantra until the foreign memories settle back into place. "I am Kael Vireon. The memory is past. I am here."
But it's working. As we complete each sigil, I can feel the corruption's advance slow, then stop. The cold, hungry spot in the wall becomes contained, boxed in by lines of pure light.
On the third day, we activate the final sigil. The seven points flare with golden light, then settle into a soft, steady glow. The corruption is still there—I can feel it pacing like a caged animal—but it can't spread anymore.
"We did it," I whisper, swaying on my feet from exhaustion.
Mom catches me, her arms warm and strong around me. "You did it, Kael. You saved us."
But as she holds me, I feel something she doesn't. The corruption isn't just contained—it's angry. And it's calling for something.
Elenya's POV
The containment is holding. Lorian's instruments confirm it—the corruption has been completely sealed off from our water supply. We're safe, for now.
But as I hold my exhausted son, I feel the Echo Core in his chest pulsing with agitated energy. Kael's eyes are distant, troubled.
"What is it?" I ask softly.
"It's mad," he whispers. "The sickness. It doesn't like being in a cage. And it... called for help."
A chill runs down my spine. "What kind of help?"
Before he can answer, a deep, guttural roar echoes through the mountain—a sound that shouldn't exist this deep underground. The sanctuary's warning sigils flare red all at once.
Lorian stumbles into the chamber, his face pale. "A Throne Beast! It's breached the outer defenses! It's coming straight for the conduit chamber!"
Kael looks up at me, his silver eyes full of a fear no child should ever know. "It heard the call," he whispers. "The sickness called, and it came."
The contained corruption in the wall pulses with dark satisfaction. We didn't just seal the taint away—we made it desperate enough to summon a guardian.
And now that guardian is here.
What did you think about seeing both Kael and Elenya's perspectives? Did it change how you viewed the situation, knowing what both of them were thinking?
YOUR SUPPORT MEANS EVERYTHING!
POWER STONES: If you're enjoying watching Kael grow into his powers amid all these dangers, please consider donating Power Stones! Every vote helps this story reach more readers.
ADD TO LIBRARY: Make sure to add to your library! Things are about to get intense with that Throne Beast arriving.
What's Next:
The Throne Beast attacks, and Kael will be forced to tap into powers he's not ready to handle. The demonic bloodline he's been warned about might be their only chance for survival, but using it could change him forever.
Thanks for reading, everyone! Your theories and comments always make my day.