Kael no longer walked unnoticed.
Wherever he went, people whispered sometimes prayers, sometimes curses. Children stared. Survivors bowed or backed away. To them, he was no longer simply a man.
He was the Soulbearer.
The title felt wrong. Heavy. Like armor that would one day crush him beneath its weight.
He spent his days moving between settlements, reinforcing defenses not with brute control, but with guidance teaching Wardens how to sense soul-pressure, how to resist panic when the dead pressed close. His presence calmed the restless dead; they drifted toward him as if seeking warmth.
At night, Kael felt exhaustion deeper than bone.
Not from battle, but from being seen.
He wondered how much of himself he could give before there was nothing left that was just Kael.