Chapter 4
Kael's Doubts
Kael, Elara's friend, struggles to comprehend. He seeks logic in the unfolding chaos, trying to shield Elara from the overwhelming visions, his skepticism a shield against the unbelievable truth.
Kael kicked a loose pebble, watching it skitter across the cracked pavement. The air felt thick, heavy, like a blanket woven from unspoken fears. Around him, the world was a symphony of hushed whispers and anxious glances. Grown-ups moved with a strange, jerky haste, their eyes darting everywhere but at each other. It was a fear that settled deep in your bones, a cold dread that made even the bravest heart flutter like a trapped bird. Kael didn't like it. He didn't like the way his own stomach churned, or the way his friends' faces looked pale and drawn. Especially Elara.
Elara, with her quiet eyes and the way she always seemed to be listening to something no one else could hear. Lately, it had been worse. Her visions, as she called them, were no longer just fleeting images. They were a flood, a torrent of everything that had ever been wrong, ever been broken, ever been unloved in the world. Kael had seen the strain on her face, the way her small hands would clench and unclench at her sides when the visions came. He didn't understand what she saw, not really. But he knew it was big. And he knew it was hurting her.
"It doesn't make sense, Elara," he said, his voice a little louder than he intended, trying to push back the encroaching silence. He walked beside her, his sturdy jeans a familiar comfort, a stark contrast to the almost ethereal quality that seemed to surround her these days. "People don't just… see things. Not like that. Not everything."
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