Inside & Out Ch 14: A secret That Must Be Kept!

(Kael)

Kael's legs carried him faster than he realized, Breno stumbling behind as he was yanked by the wrist. They darted around a bend in the narrow canal path, out of sight of the other workers scraping and hauling wax. The faint echo of dripping fluid was the only sound left when Kael finally stopped, pressing his back hard against the damp wall. His chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, the glow gone but the memory of it still burning in his veins.

"Kael—what—?" Breno started, his voice still high with alarm.

Kael shoved a finger to his lips. His own voice came out more panicked than he wanted. "Listen to me. You can't—" He swallowed, throat dry. "You can't tell anyone what you just saw. Not a soul. Do you understand?"

Breno blinked, still trying to make sense of what he'd witnessed. His mouth worked for a moment before words finally tumbled out.

"You... you're the Munari. I—I can't believe it. A blue—" He shook his head in disbelief, stammering. "A blue being the chosen partner? That's—"

"Partner?" Kael snapped, cutting him off. He didn't know what Breno meant by that and, honestly, he didn't care right now. "Forget whatever you think that means. What matters is you keep this quiet. If the Yellows hear of this—if the nobles even suspect—they'll kill me before I take another breath."

Breno stared at him, shocked by the desperation in Kael's tone. He hesitated, then said more firmly, "No, Kael. They can't. A Munari is the highest existence among us. Even the Yellows will have to acknowledge it. That's the law, the truth. You're not just... another worker anymore. You're something beyond."

Kael shook his head violently, the motion sharp enough to make his vision swim. "No. That's only for them. For the Yellows. For the ones born into power. I'm nothing but a blue. A blue doesn't get to be anything more. If they find out, I won't be raised up—I'll be buried."

The words came out low, almost trembling, but there was iron behind them.

Breno opened his mouth to argue, but Kael cut across him again, grabbing his shoulder. "Promise me, Breno. Swear you won't breathe a word. Not to anyone. Not even to your own shadow."

The younger blue stood frozen, caught between awe and fear. Finally, he nodded, swallowing hard.

"I won't tell. You have my word. But..." His eyes searched Kael's face. "How are you going to hide it? That light—everyone saw it. And if they didn't, they will. The goddess won't just let you sit in the shadows. She'll use you, Kael. That power—there's no hiding from her."

Kael let his hand drop, his stomach twisting. He wanted to deny it, to push the thought away, but deep down he knew Breno was right. The goddess's presence had pressed into his mind like a tide—it wasn't something he could hold back forever.

His gaze flicked to the faint glow still clinging to his fingertips, stubbornly refusing to fade completely. He curled his hand into a fist. "Then I'll just have to try," he muttered, though his voice carried no conviction.

***

(Charlotte)

Charlotte lingered by the doorway longer than she meant to, one hand clutching the wooden frame as she waved to Lina and Finn. They headed down the cobblestone path, still chatting to each other, throwing glances back at her with smiles. She forced one of her own, lifting her hand until they rounded the corner and were gone.

The smile dropped the moment she was alone.

Her gaze slid down to her hand—the same hand that had been glowing just a short while ago. That voice still rang in her ears, low and sharp, echoing through her head as though the boy himself had spoken right beside her. Stop. Just that one word.

Her chest tightened as she whispered to herself, "Why did he want me to stop? Is it... dangerous to use this?"

She didn't have an answer, and it gnawed at her more than she cared to admit.

Closing the door gently, she turned back into the house. The familiar scent of roasted herbs and the low murmur of her parents' voices grounded her for a moment. She stepped into the dining room, where her mother was clearing the table and her father was nursing a cup of steaming tea.

"There she is," her father said, standing with a broad smile. "Our sentinel candidate."

Charlotte blinked. "You already heard?"

"Word travels fast," her mother replied with a smirk. She crossed the room quickly, wrapping her arms around Charlotte before she had a chance to react. "We're so proud of you."

Her father joined in, patting her shoulder, his voice deep with pride. "This is the start of something bigger than all of us. You'll bring honor to the family name."

Charlotte tried to return their warmth, but the weight of it pressed on her chest. She forced herself to smile, nodding. "Thanks. Really. It means a lot."

Her father stepped back, folding his arms. "When do you leave for the academy?"

Charlotte hesitated, then answered softly, "Three days."

Her mother clasped her hands together, beaming. "Three days! Oh, we'll make sure everything's ready. You'll need proper clothes, supplies, food—"

Charlotte cut in gently, "I'll take care of the packing. Don't worry."

Both of them nodded, though her mother's eyes lingered, soft and full of unspoken worry.

Charlotte leaned in, hugging them both tightly. She wanted to hold onto the comfort of their arms, the normalcy of this small kitchen, but she knew it wouldn't last. "I'll make you proud," she said quietly.

Then she pulled away before they could see the uncertainty in her face. Retreating down the hall, she slipped back into her room. The door clicked shut behind her.

She stood for a long moment staring at her half-open pack on the bed. Clothes and books were scattered around it, but she couldn't bring herself to start. Her hands shook faintly.

She still didn't know what being chosen truly meant. She didn't know what that voice wanted from her. And most of all, she didn't know what she was walking into.

With a sigh, Charlotte sank onto her bed, her eyes drifting to the book about the Zeyvari lying beside her things. "I'll figure it out," she whispered to herself, though she didn't sound convinced.