Kael stepped out of Taryn’s Goods into the humid hush that followed a disaster. The streets were still, lit only by the light of the quarter moon. He carried his bag loosely in one hand, pants slung properly now. A sharp breeze stirred the tattered edge of the cloth still tied around his head—what was left of the shirt he nearly died in.
Behind him, the door creaked, and Lira stepped into the frame. She didn’t say anything right away—just leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her silhouette lit softly by the shop’s amber light.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” she asked, voice low. “You don’t look fine. You still look like you got frozen and stepped on.”
Kael gave a lopsided grin. “Better than lookin' like I got eaten alive.”
“That also happened.”
“Keke.”
A quiet moment passed between them—long enough for both to feel its weight. Lira’s gaze lingered on him, not quite soft, not quite sharp. “You’re leaving Brinewatch.”
Kael nodded. “It's only about two KiloElons from here. Only a little farther from you than now. Just safer. Cleaner. Real beds.”
She tried to smile but didn’t quite make it. “So you’re really going.”
He looked down, scuffed his boot against the stone. “I'm just followin' your advice. You told me to hide my Mithril Mark until I can get out of here. Found my out in the Grays getting tested. Now I've got regular work with Garrick, too. It's time. Mom needs a better environment. Sera needs school. I need... to not get eaten by Predabeasts. Keke.”
Lira nodded slowly, but her arms stayed crossed like a shield. “You’ll visit?”
“Of course,” he said, stepping closer. "You and Malik are all I've got outside of mom and Sera. I'd never run away from you. And you have an ArkSeal, so you can nag me every time I don’t, anyways.”
She smirked at that, just a little. “I’ve had one since I was five, but I've never liked using it.”
Kael blinked. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I was waiting for someone to notice me the old-fashioned way.”
That caught him off guard. He opened his mouth—then shut it, because the weight of the night, the warmth of her voice, and the bare edge of something unspoken between them pulled too tight across his ribs.
“Thanks,” he said, finally. “For the bracelet. For feedin' it to me while I was half-dead like some kind of weird bedside alchemist.”
She shrugged. “I told you, I was just returning the favor.”
“But this was different.”
“I know.” Her voice softened. “Go.”
Kael hesitated—but only for a second—then turned and jogged off down the alley. He didn’t look back.
The streets of Brinewatch felt quieter than usual. Not peaceful—never peaceful—but drained, like a wound after the bleeding stops. The smell of ashfruit skins and salt still lingered, but even the forges had gone quiet. As Kael approached the shack, he saw the door swing open before he could even reach for it.
Elira stood in the doorway, her frame trembling with restrained emotion. Behind her, Sera’s small form rushed forward like a dart.
“KAEL!” she screamed, launching into his arms.
He caught her, stumbled back a step, and let the bag drop. Her arms wrapped tight around his neck, face buried in his shoulder.
“You’re alive! I heard the alarms, and Mom was freaking out, and the sky was glowing and—”
“I’m okay, Sprout,” Kael said, kissing the top of her head. “I’m okay now.”
Elira stepped forward then, quieter, her green eyes shining. She touched his face gently—then slapped his shoulder. “You scared us to death.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
They went inside, and the moment the door closed behind them, the silence wrapped around the three of them like a long-delayed exhale.
“Need you both to get some sleep,” Kael said as he sat on the edge of the mattress, his voice steady again. “Get everythin' you want to bring. Only what matters—stuff with memories. We’re leavin' Brinewatch in the mornin'.”
Elira’s brows pinched. “You’re serious?”
He nodded. “Already ordered a pedicab to pick us up at sunrise. Bought everything we need on the way here. Gonna be delivered tomorrow. We won't miss anythin'.”
Sera’s eyes widened. “Do we get real beds? With blankets and windows that close?”
Kael grinned. “You get your own bed. And yeah—blankets too.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but this time, they weren’t from fear. Elira just stared at him, silent, but something in her posture softened. Trust settled in her bones.
“Then we’ll be ready,” Elira said at last.
Kael nodded and leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. The night outside remained still, but for once in his life, it felt like the dawn was really coming.
****
Dawn of the 7th Rotation of the Vore Cycle, 3448 A.E.
The air over Brinewatch was thick with the scent of salt and soot, but the morning mist gave it a strange softness. For once, it didn’t feel suffocating. It felt like a memory in motion—something fading, something left behind.
Kael stood beside the pedicab with his arms crossed, scanning the half-crumbling homes and rusted awnings lining the alleyway. Elira and Sera were saying their goodbyes, trading soft words and lingering hugs with the neighbors who had, for better or worse, been part of their lives.
His mother handed off their old gas stove to Helyn with a nod of finality, and Sera slipped one of her flower-pressed papers into Old Mira’s hands like it was a holy relic. Uncle Vash gave Kael a slow nod and a pat on the back, slipping him a pouch of dates for the road.
But Kael wasn’t ready to leave just yet.
“I’ll catch up,” he told Elira. “There’s something I gotta do.”
She didn’t question it. “Don’t be long,” she said, brushing a windblown strand of hair from her brow. “We’ll wait in the cab.”
Kael turned and jogged down the crooked alleys, boots slapping against the uneven stone. The Saltpier came into view soon enough—its rusted pylons jutting into the brine-dark surf, fish guts and ocean rot thick on the breeze.
He found Malik near the loading ramps, leaning against a crate, mid-argument with a gangly dockhand who clearly didn’t know how to secure a lift harness. Malik’s arms were folded, mouth turned down in disapproval, but when he saw Kael, his expression cracked into a crooked grin.
“Kael?” he said, pushing off the crate. “The hell are you doing here? I heard about the rampage. I'm glad you're okay. I was worried about you, ma and lil sis.”
Kael snorted. “I'm fine. I'll talk to you about that another time.”
Malik laughed, but it faded quick when he got a better look at Kael—his clothes less torn and expression heavier than it used to be.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” Kael said. “But I won’t be around here much longer.”
Malik’s brow creased. “You leavin’?”
Kael nodded. “Takin’ Ma and Sera to the Grays. Leased a place. Clean floors, working lights. The works.”
Malik let out a low whistle. “Hot damn. You really did it.”
“I’m tryin’,” Kael said. “Still a long way to go.”
He reached into his bag and pulled out a folded slip of synth-paper. “Here’s the address. If you come by, I’ll get you hooked up with an ArkSeal. Free. Can’t have you missin’ out while the rest of us evolve.”
Malik took the paper, eyes scanning the street name. “You serious?”
Kael nodded. “You helped me with the Soggy Bottom Boys, no questions asked. Watched my back when most wouldn’t. That ain’t nothin’. I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me shit,” Malik said, voice gruff. “But I’ll take you up on that visit. I've been to higher tiered districts, but never in any of the houses. Been meanin’ to see how the other side lives.”
Kael chuckled. “It's the Grays, not Highgate. Still slum-side. Just drier.”
Malik held out his fist, and Kael bumped it.
“You take care of your girls,” Malik said. “They’re everything.”
“They always were.”
The tide rolled in behind them, waves slapping the pier as Kael turned to leave. The air smelled like salt and iron, and for once, Kael didn’t resent it.
He was walking away from something, yeah—but toward something too.
****
The pedicab zoomed along the stone-paved causeway, the peddler not even breaking a sweat despite the wet volcanic asphalt and uneven terrain. Kael sat across from Elira and Sera, the bench seat just wide enough for them two to sit shoulder to shoulder. A thick tarp kept the breeze from biting too hard, but the slums looked different from beneath its folds—cleaner, sharper, quieter.
Sera had her chin pressed to the edge of the flap, eyes wide as they passed the city's outer gate into the Grays.
“You sure this isn’t the inner district?” she whispered. “It’s so… quiet.”
Kael smiled. “That’s the point. No screaming. No shouting. No gangs. Just people minding their own.”
Elira placed a hand on his arm, gentle. “You really did this, Kael.”
“Didn’t have a choice,” he said. “We deserve more than rotting walls and salted floors.”
As they turned down a sloping side street, the storefront came into view. Their building stood squat and solid at the corner of two intersecting lanes—gray brick stacked tight, dark wood trimming the edges, windows already aglow with soft light. Two delivery carts were parked at the curb, the haulers standing around yawning and surfing their ArkSeals.
Kael hopped out first, tossing the hauler captain a nod. “Thanks for waiting.”
“No sweat. Where you want it?”
“Storefront, first. Then the upstairs apartment.”
The moment Elira stepped out of the cab, she froze—eyes sweeping the building like she couldn’t believe it was real. The walk from the curb to the stoop was only three Elons, but she took it like it might disappear if she moved too fast. Sera clutched Kael’s coat, practically bouncing.
Inside, the air smelled of fresh sealant and polished floors. The main room had wide windows facing the street, a long counter to one side, and enough open space for anything they might need. The stairs to the apartment curved neatly behind a false wall, and Kael led them up.
“Three bedrooms,” he said, pushing open the door. “One for you, one for Sera, one for me. Runs on electric. Full kitchen, bath with working plumbing, electric-stove.”
Sera squealed, running to the nearest door and throwing it open. “This one’s mine!”
Kael laughed. “Sure thing.”
Elira stood in the center of the hallway, tears brimming, hands covering her mouth. Kael stepped close and wrapped her in a hug.
“You’ll never sleep on a floor again,” he whispered. “Not as long as I'm alive.”
She clung to him for a moment, then nodded, voice thick. “We’ll make this a home, Kael. You’ll see.”
By the time the haulers started bringing in the furniture—beds, mattresses, a new table, some chairs, shelves—Kael was already mapping out the storefront in his mind. The place had potential. More than that—it had peace.
And for the first time in his life, Kael had brought his family somewhere safe.
