Chapter 98 RETURNING HOME
Alaric did not rush when he entered the cavern, but every step carried the weight of urgency.
The underground cave had a hidden hall beneath it. It was stretched wide and high, its ceiling lost in shadow. Pale blue crystals grew along the rock walls, casting a dim, cold glow over rows of silent figures standing in formation. Armor hung from their bodies like memory rather than protection. Their faces were still, eyes open, as if listening for a command that had not yet been spoken.
At the far end of the cavern, Selene stood beside a stone basin where water dripped in slow, echoing intervals. She wore a plain dark robe, sleeves long enough to hide her hands. Her silver hair fell loose down her back, catching the crystal light.
She turned when Alaric approached.
“He's awake,” he said.
The drip of water continued. Nothing else moved.
Selene’s chin lifted slightly. “When did he wake?”
“Just before dawn. The guards in the passage felt the tremor. Then the torches lit on their own. Didn't you notice?”
"No."
Her fingers tightened beneath her sleeves, though her voice remained even. “But where is he now?”
“In the cave. Sitting.”
“Alone?”
Alaric hesitated. “Yes, you know he desires no one would disturb him.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
He glanced toward the dark tunnel leading deeper into the mountain. “It feels… crowded near him. Like standing in a hall full of whispers.”
Selene finally turned away, then back.
Her expression was composed, but her eyes searched his face carefully. “Has he spoken anything else?”
“Only once.”
“To whom?”
“To no one I could see.”
A faint line formed between her brows. “What did he say?”
Alaric swallowed. “The only thing he said that I could hear was, ‘It’s quieter now.’”
Selene looked away.
"But why do you keep asking so much questions?" He asked.
"Nothing, just concerned."
Around them and in segmented places, the resurrected soldiers remained motionless, but the air between their ranks felt charged, like a storm waiting for thunder.
Alaric lowered his voice. “Master looks stronger than before.”
“He was always going to be,” Selene replied.
“You sound like you expected this.”
She met his gaze again, calm settling over her like a mask. “I expect many things. It is the only way to survive this long.”
Alaric studied her. “You should see him.”
“I will but not now.”
She didn’t move. Neither did he.
She knew what would happen if he saw him.
“Selene,” he said quietly, “he is not like other men.”
“I know” she agreed. “He is not.”
There was no fear in her tone.
That unsettled him more than if there had been.
“I know I made you bring him here against your will,” Alaric continued. “But you see, he's better off here. The mountain had hide him until the time was right. And soon it will be over and we'll be together forever.”
“Yes. Maybe, now the time is right!”
"It is."
She glanced toward the tunnel again. “Time rarely asks our permission.”
Alaric exhaled slowly. “The men are restless for his seize.”
“I've also noticed they do not rest,” she said absently.
“You know what I mean.”
“You mean the shift?”
“Yes, so do I,” he admitted.
A long silence stretched between them.
Then, unable to stop himself, he asked, “Did you ever know what he is meant to become?”
Selene’s gaze drifted past him, toward the rows of unmoving soldiers.
“Yes,” she said.
“And? Tell me!”
She looked back at him, eyes unreadable. “A choice.”
Alaric frowned. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one that matters.”
Before he could press further, a low vibration rolled through the earth. Not violent. Not loud. But deep — like something vast turning in its sleep.
Several soldiers’ heads tilted in unison toward the inner tunnel.
Selene felt it too.
Her heartbeat stumbled once, then steadied.
“He’s moving. He's trying to walk,” Alaric said.
“Oh God.”
“Should we...”
“No,” she said sharply. Then, softer, “Let him learn.”
He has been sitting in the cave for three years without moving.
Far above the mountain, beneath open sky and drifting cloud, Athalia sat upright in a narrow bed inside a small wooden hut.
The movement sent a dull ache through her body, but it was no longer the sharp, tearing pain she remembered from the tower. This was a lingering weakness, like her strength had been siphoned slowly rather than ripped away.
Smoke curled toward a hole in the roof where sunlight filtered through in thin, dusty beams. Dried herbs hung from the rafters. The air smelled of bitter roots and something faintly sweet.
“You’re awake,” A young physician named Mariam said from the hearth without turning.
She had met her after leaving the palace. She had bumped into Selene and ran out , leaving Corin behind.
As she walked fast, she hit a carriage and fell. The young physician helped her and had visited her since.
Athalia pressed a hand to her chest.
Her heart was racing.
“I saw him,” she whispered.
“Is it the one you always see,” she replied, stirring a pot with a wooden spoon.
“No,” she said, swinging her legs off the bed. “Not like before.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Tell me.”
She stood, steadying herself against the wall. “It seems he was older.”
The wizard stilled. “How old?”
“A man,” she said. “Not a child.”
She studied her face for signs of fever or delirium.
“I wasn’t dreaming,” she said, reading the doubt in her eyes. “I felt him.”
“Where?”
She pressed her palm against her sternum. “Here.”
Mariam set the spoon aside and came closer, her movements slow but deliberate. She placed two fingers lightly against her wrist, feeling her pulse.
“It’s stronger today,” she murmured.
“I told you. Something has changed.”
She didn’t argue.
Outside, wind moved through the trees, carrying the distant sound of birds. The world beyond the hut was painfully normal.
Inside her, nothing was.
“I need to go back,” Athalia said.
“You can barely stand.”
“I can walk.”
“You’ll collapse before you reach the gate.”
“Then I’ll crawl,” she snapped.
Mariams gaze softened, but she didn’t step aside. “You think the kingdom will welcome you?”
“I don’t care about the kingdom.”
“Your husband?”
Her jaw tightened. “I don’t know who he is anymore. The rumors say....... I need to go see him.”
Mariam nodded slowly, as if that confirmed something she already suspected.
“And your child?” he asked.
Her composure cracked.
She looked away, blinking hard. “That’s why I have to go.”
"Okay fine. But recover first to find him."
Athalia nodded though unsatisfied.
Deep underground, the young man stepped into the outer cave.
The resurrected soldiers did not turn their heads this time.
They were already facing him.
He walked barefoot across the cold stone, dark hair falling loosely around his shoulders. His features were sharp, familiar in a way that made Alaric’s breath catch.
The resemblance to King Adrian was unmistakable.
But there was something else in the set of his mouth.
Something older.