In the center of the village square, the job board stood tall, weathered but still the heart of communal tasks. A new notice fluttered in the breeze, catching Kael's eye. The paper was simple, but its message was clear:

"In need of workers! We will be improving the wall for defense and raising it by 5 feet. The wall is already 8 feet tall."

Kael stared at it, hoping people would show up this weekend to help with reinforcing the wall. The weight of responsibility pressed on him as he walked back to his workshop. He felt useless, spending days cooped up, hands idle when they should be building, fixing, or creating something. His thoughts drifted to the power of the crystal that lay dormant, the immense strength it could give him if he chose to use it. But he refused to rely on it, knowing that if he did, he'd never grow on his own.

"Damn it," Kael muttered under his breath, the frustration building inside him. Then louder, as if to shake off his doubt, "You know what? Fuck it."

Suddenly energized, Kael set to work, gathering materials and tools. If he couldn't use the crystal, he'd use his mind, his skill. He began mass-producing weaker versions of his armor—armor that wasn't fueled by magic but by something far more practical. Each piece was powered by a renewable source: movement. It was a stroke of ingenuity. Kinetic armor that would charge itself through walking, each step generating more strength. The more someone moved, the more powerful the armor became.

Hours passed as Kael's hands moved with mechanical precision. He could feel the weight of time slipping away, but there was a satisfaction in creation, even without the magic.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound startled Kael, dragging him from his work. He pushed his chair back and stood, his joints stiff from the long hours at the bench. He moved slowly to the door, cracking it open cautiously.

"Hi, Kael," Maren greeted him with a warm smile. "Do you want to come to the inn? We'll be providing food for everyone tonight. Obviously, free of charge for you, I mean, you did protect the whole village."

Kael blinked, trying to process the sudden invitation. Maren was always good at coaxing people with offers of food.

"I guess I can come," Kael replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "What time is everyone going to be there?"

"Everyone's already there," Maren said, leaning against the doorframe. "Why don't you come now?"

Kael glanced down the street, peeking out the door, looking left and then right. The village was quiet, no one in sight. He hesitated but nodded. "Alright, let's go then. I've got something to take care of this weekend, so I need to sleep early."

Maren smiled, satisfied. As they walked together toward the inn, there was an unspoken awkwardness between them. Kael hadn't shown up last time she invited him, and though she said nothing about it, the tension was palpable. The pace was brisk, but the silence weighed heavier with each step.

When they arrived, Maren quickly opened the door for Kael, stepping aside as he walked in. The inn was full that night—about thirty people crowded inside—but the moment Kael stepped over the threshold, the room fell eerily silent. Every pair of eyes turned to him, and for a moment, all he could feel was the weight of their stares.

Fear, admiration, hatred—he couldn't tell what it was, but it didn't matter. The whispers started, rippling through the crowd like a wave.

"What's he wearing?"
"Why did he even come?"
"He's just a loser who abandoned us when we needed him."

Kael's face hardened as he moved through the room. His boots struck the wooden floor with heavy thuds, each step echoing in the uncomfortable silence. He made his way to an empty chair next to Jorvan, the old village elder who sat nursing a tankard of beer. As Kael dropped into the seat with a loud clank, the room erupted into hushed murmurs again, the tension thick in the air.

"Hey bud," Jorvan slurred, draping a heavy arm around Kael's shoulders, his breath thick with alcohol. "What've you been up to? Why didn't you come last time?"

Kael forced a thin smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Wasn't feeling well," he replied softly, his voice at odds with the grim look on his face. The glowing armor he wore didn't help, casting an ominous glow that only added to the unease in the room. He could feel their judgment, the doubts, and resentment they harbored towards him, the one who had left when they needed him most. No one thought he looked happy—not even close.

"Hi, Mr. Kael!" a small voice chirped from below. Kael glanced down to see Amelia, Maren's daughter, popping up from under the table. She smiled nervously, her eyes wide with curiosity. "How are you doing today?"

Kael hesitated for a moment, but then, almost instinctively, he reached out, inviting her to sit beside him. The crowd watched with bated breath, as if expecting him to hurt her. A strange fear seemed to grip the room as if Kael's very presence threatened them.

But Kael's expression softened the moment Amelia sat down. "Hey, Amelia," he said, his voice warmer now, almost relieved to speak to someone who didn't look at him with disdain. "I've been good. What about you? What have you been up to?"

The tension in his body seemed to ease slightly as he spoke, and for the first time that evening, Kael allowed himself to smile. It wasn't much, but for a fleeting moment, it felt like things might be okay.

A man clad in weathered grey armor stood near the table, his expression softened as he looked at Amelia. His brows were furrowed in a gentle sadness, and he sighed dramatically. "Amelia, you never ask me how I'm doing!" His voice carried the weight of exaggerated sorrow, as if deeply hurt by the omission.

Amelia rolled her eyes, a playful smirk on her lips. "Orin, you're so silly, you know that? Every time I ask you how you're doing, you always say the same thing." She turned her gaze to Kael as she began to mimic Orin's voice in an exaggerated, mocking tone. "'I'm doing perfect! I saved the day, I did this, I did that, blablabla!' You just won't stop talking about how great your day was!" Her face scrunched up in mock annoyance as if she'd heard the same speech from him a thousand times.

Orin, completely unfazed by the teasing, puffed out his chest, his armor clinking with the movement. "But Amelia, I can't just lie!" he declared earnestly. "Today, let's see—I saved a—"

Kael, watching the scene unfold with mild irritation, finally cut in before Orin could launch into one of his never-ending stories. "Please stop," Kael said, exasperation creeping into his voice. "You're literally doing what she just said she doesn't like."

Orin paused, blinking as if the realization had hit him. But before he could respond, the door to the kitchen swung open, and Maren stormed out, her eyes locked onto Orin with motherly fury. Without a word, she marched over and grabbed him by the ear, yanking him towards the door.

"Alright, alright, I'm going!" Orin yelped as he was dragged outside, Maren muttering something about how he never knew when to stop talking. The door shut behind them with a firm thud, leaving the room momentarily silent.

Kael shook his head, his lips twitching into a slight smile. "Huh. What a weird guy, am I right?" He glanced at Jorvan, who was sitting next to him, and then at Amelia, who was still stifling a laugh.

Jorvan, who had been swaying slightly from too many drinks, suddenly sobered up, his face serious. "Poor guy just needs to learn some social cues," he muttered, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Amelia, on the other hand, wasn't holding back her frustration. "He never stops talking! It's like, please, just shut the F—" Before she could finish, Kael's hand shot out, covering her mouth in one swift motion.

"I just saved you from the same fate as Orin," Kael said, his tone mockingly stern. "Don't even think about finishing that sentence unless you want your mom to come and drag you out of here by the ear." His eyes narrowed playfully, but it was clear he was trying to protect her from Maren's wrath.

Amelia's eyes widened in exaggerated shock, but she nodded, her lips curling into a mischievous smile beneath Kael's hand. The room had grown quiet, but then, one by one, people began to chuckle. The sight of Kael, normally so serious and grim, bantering with Amelia was unexpected, and soon the laughter spread across the room.

"That's right, Amelia!" a voice called out from the back, cutting through the laughter. A man in his mid-thirties leaned back in his chair, grinning as he pointed toward the door. "Better be careful, or your mom might come for you next. Kael just saved your life in 3, 2, 1..." he teased, his finger tracing an invisible countdown.

As if on cue, muffled cries of "Ow, ow, ow, miss, please stop!" echoed from outside. The room erupted into even louder laughter. They all knew what was happening—Orin was getting an earful from Maren, who, despite her kind nature, didn't tolerate nonsense.

Amidst the uproar, even Kael found himself chuckling. The sound of his laughter was deep, resonant, and surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to the stoic demeanor he usually carried. For a moment, the tension that had always seemed to surround him melted away.

The room quieted briefly as the villagers noticed Kael laughing, a shared sense of relief washing over them. They had seen him as the distant protector, the man who had walked away when things got tough, but now, in this moment of shared humor, they realized he was just like them. Maybe he had his reasons for leaving. Maybe he had burdens they couldn't understand. But right now, none of that mattered.

And just like that, the laughter resumed, louder than before, with Kael joining in. It felt good, almost normal, even if just for a fleeting moment.

Three Hours Later

Kael wandered through the village, his footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestone streets. The night was quiet, and the stars above shone with an ethereal glow, their light filtering down through the tall buildings and narrow alleyways. The air was cool, crisp, carrying with it the earthy scent of the forest beyond the village walls. But the peace of the night did little to settle the turmoil within him.

He had been back for hours now, and while the villagers had warmed up to him—laughter and camaraderie shared over drinks at the inn—his mind was still heavy. His thoughts circled back to Elara, to the coldness in her eyes that had cut deeper than any blade. Her presence, distant and aloof, lingered in his mind, a constant reminder that not everything had healed since his return.

His boots scraped against the ground as he turned into a narrow alley, the dim light of the moon casting long shadows. It was there, in the quiet embrace of the night, that a voice drifted to him, soft but pointed, cutting through the stillness like a whisper in the wind.

"You left because you were afraid, didn't you?"

Kael stopped in his tracks, his body tensing as he scanned the darkness. The voice was unmistakably feminine, soft, yet carrying an undercurrent of sorrow. His eyes narrowed as he tried to make out the figure hidden in the shadows, but the dim light barely revealed a silhouette. The person was cloaked, their face obscured by a hood, shrouded in mystery.

"What?" Kael's voice was hesitant, confusion flickering in his chest. He took a cautious step forward, straining to see who had spoken, but the figure remained hidden, cloaked in the shadows.

"You could have stayed," the girl's voice echoed again, this time laden with sadness and disappointment. "You could have protected everyone, but you ran away. Even with all that power, you chose to leave. You're just a coward, too afraid to help the people who needed you most."

The accusation hit Kael harder than he expected. It felt like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from his lungs. He felt his hands instinctively curl into fists, his jaw tightening. "You don't understand," he said, his voice low but strained. "I didn't have a choice."

The girl stepped forward slightly, still keeping her face hidden in the shadows, but her voice trembled, barely more than a whisper now. "Everyone believed in you, Kael. They looked up to you. They trusted you to protect them. But you turned your back on them. What good is your strength if you only use it for yourself?"

Her words clawed at him, reopening wounds he thought had begun to heal. Kael's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. Could she be right? Had he failed them? Could he have done more if he had stayed? These thoughts whirled inside him, mixing with a deep sense of guilt he had tried to bury.

"I wanted to protect them," he muttered, more to himself than to the girl. "I couldn't—" He trailed off, his voice weak. He was trying to explain, trying to justify his actions, but the words felt hollow, even to his own ears.

The girl's head dipped slightly, her voice barely audible, as if it pained her to speak. "You didn't even try," she whispered, her tone thick with sorrow. "You just... left."

Before Kael could respond, before he could reach out or plead his case, the girl turned sharply on her heel and fled into the darkness. Her footsteps echoed down the alley, fading into the night as she disappeared from sight.

"Wait!" Kael called after her, his voice desperate, his heart pounding in his chest. But it was too late. She was gone, swallowed by the shadows as quickly as she had appeared. He stood there for a long moment, the silence pressing in on him from all sides, his thoughts swirling with confusion and regret.

Who was she? There had been something in her voice, something familiar. The sadness, the way her words trembled with emotion—it gnawed at him, tugging at the edges of his memory. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog of his thoughts, but the feeling remained, an unsettling knot in his chest.

Eventually, Kael made his way back to his room at the inn. The village was quiet now, most of the lights dimmed, the festivities long since over. As he climbed into bed, the girl's words echoed in his mind, replaying over and over. Her accusations, her sorrow—it was like a haunting refrain he couldn't shake.