The wall rose steadily over the following weeks.
Stone by stone, beam by beam, the defensive boundary took shape across the eastern horizon. The Architecture Subsystem guided Kaelen's hands, his mind, his will. The workers moved with purpose, the guardians lent their ancient strength, and the village transformed from a place of fear into a place of hope.
But Kaelen's thoughts were elsewhere.
Every moment with Alistair and Lysander felt charged, electric. A brush of shoulders, a shared glance, the warmth of their presence beside him. The dreams had grown more vivid, more insistent, leaving him breathless and yearning each morning.
He did not understand what was happening to him.
He had faced gods and demons. He had healed wounds that had festered for centuries. But this, this quiet ache in his chest, this desperate longing for their touch, was more terrifying than any of it.
The day's work had begun before sunrise.
