Captain returned to Kael's room, the weight of Elara's theory pressing down on him. The guards outside stood ramrod straight, their gazes sharp, but Captain knew the true vulnerability wasn't physical; it was the boy within, and the chilling resonance his sacrifices might create.
Kael was sitting on the edge of his cot, the smooth stone in his hand. He looked up as Captain entered, his expression a complex mix of child-like innocence and the deep weariness the Bedel had etched onto his young face.
Captain sat beside him, the metal cot creaking slightly. How did you tell an 8-year-old child that the very thing that made him special, the cost he paid to save others, might also be making him a target for an unknowable horror?
He chose his words carefully, stripping away the complex theories, focusing on the simple, terrifying truth. "Kael," he began, his voice gentle, "the grey... that thing that came... it felt your light. It feels your light very strongly."
Kael nodded, his eyes distant. He knew. He had felt "Found! Light! Here!"
"And... sometimes," Captain continued, struggling, "when you use your light very strongly, and... and it asks for something back... when you pay the Bedel... that seems to make your light even brighter to them. It helps them find you."
Kael's small hand tightened around the stone. He understood enough. Using Vispera = Bedel. Bedel = found. The connection was simple, brutal. His Bedel of Helplessness, already a crushing weight, amplified. It wasn't just helplessness; it was 'Danger. My Light. Bad.' The core of his being, the source of Vispera, felt tainted, a liability.
He pulled his hand closer to his chest, as if trying to hide the faint warmth radiating from within him. His eyes filled with a confusion that went beyond the Bedel's fog – the confusion of a child whose greatest gift was suddenly cast as his greatest curse.
Captain saw the dawning terror in his eyes, the retreat inward. He quickly added, "But your light also protects us, Kael. It pushes the grey back. It helps us see. It is not bad." He reached out, placing a hand gently on Kael's shoulder. "We will protect you. Elara is looking for ways to help you... hide your light better, maybe. Or make us stronger against them finding you."
Kael leaned into the touch for a moment, sensing the warm, solid presence of Captain's resolve. He felt the layers beneath the words – the captain's worry, his determination, the heavy burden he carried. And beneath that, the underlying hum of "We Are. Here. Together." from the sanctuary.
The feeling of 'Danger. My Light. Bad.' warred with the feeling of being protected, of not being alone. The Bedel of Helplessness screamed that he was a problem, but the collective will whispered that he was their problem, one they would face together.
It was a fragile balance. Kael didn't fully articulate his feelings, couldn't process the complex paradox. He just knew the grey wanted him, that his light drew it, and that the people here, despite the fear he sensed from them, were trying to stand between him and the hunting darkness.
The conversation was short, difficult, leaving both Captain and Kael heavier than before. The truth, even simplified, was a burden. The sanctuary now had a clear target, and the target was acutely aware of it, struggling to reconcile the life-giving power within him with the death-bringing attention it now attracted.
The chapter ends with Captain having a difficult, simplified conversation with Kael about his power making him a target, based on Elara's theory. Kael internalizes this, feeling his Bedel of Helplessness manifest as 'Danger. My Light. Bad.', but also senses the sanctuary's protective resolve. The chapter highlights the personal impact of the new threat on Kael and the emotional burden for both him and Captain.