Days blurred into a quiet, tense rhythm in Kael's confined world. The Bedel remained a constant, aching presence – the void of joy, the chilling absence of love, the frustration of lost skills. Elara's visits were the only thing that broke the monotony, her quiet determination a small light in the dim room.
She continued her gentle probing, her research into the old legends and the sanctuary's lore. She learned about the 'Age of Colors' before the grey, about the 'Whispering Sickness' that preceded The Void's full arrival, about the 'Guardians of the Light' who were said to have fought the encroaching darkness with energies the world no longer understood.
"They say the Guardians could make things grow," she told Kael one day, sketching rough shapes in the dust on the floor. "Even in the barren lands." She looked at him, then at the dead, grey dust. "Can your light do that, Kael? Make things... live?"
Kael didn't know. He had only used his light in fear, in desperation. He had only known its cost. Make things live? It only seemed to take life, take from life. Vispera's presence, a faint warmth, seemed to pulse with a hesitant uncertainty at the question.
Elara's curiosity was boundless. She brought him a small, withered grey plant, one of the Twisted Flora she'd carefully uprooted outside. "Can you... try?" she asked, her voice low, a mix of hope and fear. "Just a little light? Maybe it only takes when you use a lot?"
Kael flinched back. Use the light? The thought alone sent a spike of fear through him, though the feeling of fear was muted by the Bedel. He remembered the tearing agony of losing love, the emptiness. He shook his head vehemently. No.
Their quiet experiments and conversations were interrupted one morning when the door to his room was unlocked. Not for Elara's visit. Captain stood there, grim-faced, with Gus and two other survivors behind him, their expressions wary and determined.
"Captain?" Elara asked, stepping protectively towards Kael.
Captain looked at Kael, his gaze assessing. "The supply run failed," he stated, his voice flat. "Lost two more. Resources are critical." He looked at Kael's small form, then at the floor where a faint, almost imperceptible warmth seemed to hover around the child. "Hemlock... told me some things. About old legends. About lights in the dark."
Gus snorted. "Legends won't feed us, Captain. He's a danger. Not a solution."
Captain ignored Gus. "We need to know," he said, his voice low, directed at Kael. "Is that light... a weapon? Can you control it? Or is it just... destruction?" He looked at Elara. "You think he's an answer. Let's see."
He didn't ask Kael to unleash the power. Instead, he placed a small, grey, withered plant similar to the one Elara had brought, on the floor a few feet from Kael. "Can you... help this?" he asked, his voice carrying a heavy weight of desperate hope and pragmatic necessity. "Like the legends say?"
It was a test. Kael understood that. His heart pounded. Use the light? For this? Not in panic, but with intention?
Elara's eyes were wide, fixed on the plant, then on Kael. Her belief, her hope, was palpable. Vispera's presence pulsed within Kael, not urging him to fight, but radiating a feeling of possibility, of gentle creation.
Kael looked at the withered plant, at Elara's hopeful face, at Captain's grim, waiting expression, at Gus's suspicious glare. He thought of the hungry faces in the sanctuary, of the cold and the lack of supplies. He thought of the Bedel, the terrible price.
Could he use the light for something other than defense? Could he create, not just destroy or pay?
Drawing on Vispera's gentle pull, focusing on the plant, Kael reached out a trembling hand. It wasn't a surge. It was an attempt at focus, at control. A faint, golden light began to gather in his palm, not a blast, but a soft, warm glow.
The light touched the withered plant.
For a breathtaking moment, a faint green color pulsed within the grey leaves. The plant seemed to straighten, to sigh with borrowed life. A delicate, almost invisible shimmer of pure, un-greyed energy flowed from Kael's hand to the plant.
But maintaining the focus, the control, was agonizing. The Bedel reacted instantly. A wave of cold, tearing pain ripped through Kael's mind. This time, it was memory that vanished – not specific, but a fundamental block of knowledge. How to read. How to count past ten. Basic concepts flickered and died.
He gasped, the light faltering. The plant sagged back to grey.
"Stop!" Elara cried, rushing forward, seeing the pain on his face.
The light in Kael's hand vanished. He crumpled, shaking violently, the Bedel's new void leaving him disoriented and lost in a different way. He could no longer understand the symbols on the wall, the numbers on a tally stick. The world of knowledge, of abstract thought, was now partially closed to him.
Captain watched, his face a mask of shock and grim understanding. He had seen the light create, but he had also seen the horrifying, immediate price. Gus muttered curses, his fear of the power warring with the reality of the Bedel's cost.
Kael lay on the floor, panting, the void in his mind and soul vast. He had tried. He had used the light not to fight, but to create. And the Bedel had taken a new, devastating toll. He was a weapon, yes, but also a sacrifice. And his potential was intertwined with his destruction.
The chapter ends with Kael reeling from the new Bedel, his attempt at controlled power having a partial success but a horrifying cost, leaving the Captain and others facing the reality of his potential and his devastation, uncertain how to proceed with this dangerous, broken child who might be their only hope.