Kael leaned closer to Hendrik, his shoulder pressing against the merchant's arm. His voice came out barely above a whisper.
"I'm hungry."
Hendrik blinked. His face went still for a moment, then his expression changed to one of understanding, followed by guilt. Then he placed a hand gently on top of Kael's head. The weight was warm, and steadying.
Kael closed one eye reflexively, then tilted his head up to look at Hendrik's face.
Hendrik turned toward the others, his hand still resting on Kael's hair.
"The kid needs food. Could you help us out?"
The adventurers glanced at each other, a small awkward silence passing between them. Then Mira reached over and patted Elda on the back—two quick taps, a silent instruction.
Elda nodded, then she stood without a word and walked toward the far end of the hall where the smell of roasted meat and bread hung in the air.
Hendrik rubbed his eyes with two fingers with a slow and heavy motion. Then he stood upright, placing his hand at the back of Kael's head, his fingers settling gently at the base of his neck.
"Come on, lad," he murmured.
Kael let himself be guided. His legs felt stiff, his body still aching despite the green light that had dulled the worst of it. Hendrik led him to the corner table—the same one they had sat at hours ago when the boy was still missing.
Kael slid onto the bench. The wood was cold beneath his legs. Hendrik sat down beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched.
The others followed shortly after. The bench on the opposite side creaked as Thorne, Garry, Mira, and Davyn settled in. They set their weapons aside and dropped their packs to the floor.
Kael kept his eyes on the table. The grain of the wood was dark, worn smooth by years of elbows, mugs, and spilled drinks.
After four minutes of an awkward silence, Elda returned.
Kael heard her footsteps first—then the faint clink of a clay bowl being set down in front of him. A cup followed, the liquid inside still steaming.
He looked at the bowl filled with a chunk of something soft floating in broth that glistened. A wooden spoon sat beside it.
Kael's brow furrowed. He tilted his head slightly, studying it.
Hendrik leaned forward, his voice was low and warm.
"It's carrot soup. You've never had it before, but trust me—you'll like it."
He gestured toward the spoon with one hand, a small encouraging motion.
Kael's fingers closed around the spoon. The handle was smooth, worn down by use. He dipped it into the bowl, watching the orange liquid slide off the edges. Then he lifted it to his mouth.
The taste hit him all at once—sweet, earthy, warm. It spread across his tongue and down his throat, and for a moment, the ache in his chest eased.
His eyes went wide and he dipped the spoon again. The soup disappeared in quick, desperate mouthfuls, his hand moving faster with each bite.
Hendrik's hand caught his wrist mid-motion.
"Slow down," Hendrik said gently, pulling the spoon back. "You'll make yourself sick."
Kael stopped for a second. His breathing becoming shallow, his chest rising and falling quickly. He looked down at the bowl—half-empty already.
Hendrik turned toward the others, with his voice was quiet and almost apologetic.
"He hasn't eaten in two days. Not since we got to Stormholm."
The table went still. Mira's hand, resting on the edge of the table, tightened into a fist. Thorne's eyes widened slightly before he looked away. Garry muttered something under his breath that sounded like a curse. Davyn's jaw clenched.
But Kael didn't look at any of them to notice their reactions. He just lifted the spoon again—slower this time—and brought it to his mouth.
The adventurers watched him swallow every spoonful, with their expressions unreadable.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Kael set the spoon down in the empty bowl. The ceramic clinked softly against the wood. His stomach felt full—actually full—for the first time in days. The heaviness in his limbs had lifted slightly. The cold that had settled into his bones felt less sharp.
He shifted on the bench, and leaned toward Hendrik who noticed and opened his arm, making space for Kael to slide closer until his shoulder pressed against Hendrik's side, then he let his weight settle there. The merchant's body was warm, it made Kael close his eyes for a moment.
Across the table, the adventurers watched in silence.
Then Davyn cleared his throat. The sound cut through the quiet, pulling the attentive gaze of everyone. Kael's eyes opened and he looked up.
Davyn was leaning forward now, his hands crossed on the table, with his fingers laced together. His expression had changed. The casual grin was gone and what remained was a serious focused gaze.
"Hendrik. Based on our deal, you were going to tell us what happened in Oakhaven."
Kael felt Hendrik shift beside him. The merchant's jaw tightened, making Kael sit upright and turn his head slightly to look up at Hendrik's face.
Hendrik's eyes were now fixed on Davyn. He rested his chin on his hands, his elbows planted on the table.
"What happened in Oakhaven," Hendrik said slowly, "was something I've never seen before. Not in my years as a merchant."
The adventurers' faces hardened, but Hendrik continued.
"It wasn't done by a human. Definitely not a mage. It was… something a fiend would do."
Mira pressed her hands together beneath the table.
"What exactly did this fiend do?"
Hendrik looked her straight in the eyes.
"It erased Oakhaven."
A sharp intake of breath swept through the group, but Hendrik didn't stop there.
"It created a massive crater. Deep enough to bury everything. The entire village was pushed toward the boundary—houses, trees, people—all of it buried under debris."
Silence swept across the group after Hendrik finished talking.
Kael could hear the sounds of the guild hall around them—the distant laughter, the clink of mugs, the scrape of chairs—but at their table, no one spoke.
Elda's face went pale, her lips forming a single word.
"Everything?"
Hendrik nodded.
Davyn gritted his teeth and looked away from Elda, his gaze returning to Hendrik. His mouth opened, another question already forming—
"It wasn't a fiend."
Kael's voice cut through the silent table like a blade. Everyone stopped and turned their heads towards him.
Kael just sat there, pressed against Hendrik's side, his dark eyes staring straight ahead.
Everyone froze.
Then he sat up straight, pulling himself forward and placing his small hands flat on the table.
"It was a demon," Kael said. His voice didn't waver. "One that could talk."
Everyone's eyes went wide for a heartbeat there. Then Davyn's fingers began to slowly tap against the table.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Kael's eyes followed the sound until he met Davyn's gaze. The party's captain let out a short breath that wasn't quite a laugh.
"Do you know what you're saying, kid?" His tone was light, but his eyes weren't.
"Creatures like that don't exist. And if they did, no one would live to tell the tale."
Kael's brow furrowed. His hands curled into fists on the table.
"I know what I'm telling you."
Thorne leaned forward, his elbows coming to rest on the table. His voice was quieter than Davyn's, more careful in fact.
"How did you survive?"
Kael went silent and his eyes dropped. He stared at the grain of the wood, at the empty bowl in front of him, at his own hands, while the others waited.
Kael tightened his hands before he looked back up. His eyes were wet.
"My mother," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "She died protecting me. She's the reason I survived."
The adventurers' expressions shifted. Kael rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, scrubbing away the gathering tears. When his hands came down, his face had changed.
"I don't care if you believe me."
Then his hand came down hard on the table—his small fist slamming against wood. The sound echoed in the space between them.
"I'm going to kill it."
No one spoke a single word after that statement. They just stared blankly as Kael's chest rose and fell quickly. His hand stayed pressed against the table, trembling slightly.
Then, slowly, the tension drained out of him. His shoulders slumped and he sank back against the bench, his small body folding in on itself.
He looked down at his hands. His voice came out quieter now, almost shy.
"Could you… train me?"
The silence stretched for a moment. Kael's face went hot. His eyes dropped back to the table. His hands curled into his lap, fingers twisting together. The heat spread from his cheeks down his neck.
"We wouldn't mind."
Kael's head snapped up to see that Davyn was looking at him, his expression was calm.
"We'd like to find this talking demon too," Davyn continued. "If it's real, it's a threat. And if it destroyed a whole village…" He paused, glancing at the others. "Yeah. We're interested."
Kael's eyes widened. His chest felt lighter. He sat up straighter, his hands uncurling.
Then Davyn leaned forward. His elbows came to rest on the table. His hands laced together and his eyes locked onto Kael's face.
"But first," Davyn said, his tone shifting to a more serious one. "Where did you get that pendant?"