Chapter 17: The Things That Follow You Home

Kaelira Voss had expected many things after stepping in.
Gratitude, maybe. Silence, preferably.
Not this.

“You’re going the wrong way,” she said without turning.
Behind her, footsteps continued anyway.
Light. Persistent. Annoyingly consistent.

She exhaled slowly, already feeling the irritation settle in.
“You can stop following me now,” she added, tone flat.
“I’m not following you,” the boy replied quickly. “I’m just… going the same way.”
Kael stopped walking.
Turned.
Looked at him.

He froze under the weight of it.
Not scared.
Just… caught.

“You’ve been ‘going the same way’ for the last three streets,” she said.
“…It’s a long way,” he tried.

Kael stared at him for a moment longer, then turned again and resumed walking.
The footsteps followed.
Of course they did.

He was younger than her.
Not by a little.
By enough that it showed in everything—the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, the way he hadn’t yet learned when to stop pushing something that wasn’t going to work.
A teenager.
Too early for the Tower.
Too late to stay away from it.

Kael had already seen enough to know what he could become.
Given time.
Given survival.
He had the instincts—buried under hesitation, under inexperience, under that reckless need to prove something before understanding what it cost.

Which was exactly why she had stepped in.
Not because it was her problem.
Because it would become one.
Eventually.

But now—
Now he was trailing behind her like something that hadn’t decided where it belonged yet.

“Sister, you were so cool back there,” he said suddenly, his voice carrying a little too much enthusiasm for someone who had just been hit minutes ago. “Are you a climber too?”
Kael didn’t respond.
“Because you were in the guild, right? So you must be—”
“I’m not,” she cut in.

He blinked.
“…Oh.”

A brief silence followed.
Short-lived.

“But you could be,” he added quickly. “You handled them easily. And you knew what to say, and—”
“I told them to leave,” Kael said. “That’s not climbing. That’s talking.”
“Still,” he said, stepping a little closer, “you should take me into your team. I’ll be useful. I learn fast, and I can—”

Kael stopped again.
Turned again.
This time slower.

“No,” she said.

The word landed cleanly.
Simple.
Final.

He hesitated.
“…You didn’t even think about it.”
“I did,” she said. “It took less time than you expected.”

He frowned slightly, clearly not ready to give up yet.
“But—”
“No,” she repeated, sharper this time.

Silence.

He shifted his weight, then tried again.
“You helped me. That means—”
“It means I didn’t want to watch you get hit again,” Kael said. “That’s all.”

The words were blunt.
Not untrue.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Kael didn’t wait.
She turned and walked again, faster this time.

The footsteps followed.

She stopped.
Didn’t turn this time.
Just stood there, shoulders tightening slightly before she exhaled and finally faced him again.

“You don’t know me,” she said, her voice colder now. “You don’t know what I do. You don’t know where I stand.”
He didn’t respond.

“You saw one moment,” she continued. “One. That’s not enough to decide anything.”
“I just—”
“You just got out of a situation you weren’t ready for,” Kael cut in. “And instead of learning from it, you’re trying to attach yourself to the first person who didn’t walk away.”

That landed.

He flinched slightly.
Not physically.
But enough.

Kael held his gaze, her expression steady.
“Train,” she said. “Like I told you before. Stay out of trouble you can’t handle. And stop following people who don’t ask for it.”

He looked like he wanted to argue.
Didn’t.

Good.

Kael turned one last time and walked away.
This time—
The footsteps didn’t follow.

She didn’t look back.

At home, the quiet returned easily.
Familiar.
Controlled.

The shard remained on the table, exactly where she had left it.
Dark.
Still.
Unresponsive.

Kael didn’t touch it.
Not tonight.

Instead, she sat for a while, letting the silence settle properly, her thoughts drifting—not toward the boy, not toward the guild—
But toward something else.

Absence.

She pushed the thought aside.
Got up.
Rested.

Morning came.
Routine resumed.

And then—

He was there.

Standing near her stall.

Kael stopped mid-step, her expression flattening instantly.

“…No,” she said.

The boy straightened slightly, like he had been waiting for her.
“Sister—”
“No,” she repeated, walking past him and setting her things down.

“I just wanted to ask again—”
“You already did.”
“I can help—”
“You can leave.”

He hesitated.
Didn’t leave.

Kael closed her eyes briefly, exhaling through her nose before opening them again.
“…Why are you still here?” she asked.

“Because I meant what I said,” he replied. “I want to climb. And I need someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Kael stared at him.
Then laughed once.
Short.
Dry.

“You picked the wrong person,” she said.

“I don’t think so,” he said.

Of course he didn’t.

He lingered.
Hovered.
Stayed just close enough to be noticeable, just far enough not to be directly in the way.

It was familiar.

Annoyingly so.

Kael worked anyway.
Ignored him when she could.
Dismissed him when she couldn’t.

But the space he occupied—

It felt wrong.

Not because he was there.
Because someone else wasn’t.

By midday, even Dain noticed.
He leaned against the stall, glancing between Kael and the boy with open curiosity.
“…You adopting strays now?” he asked.

“No,” Kael replied immediately.

“Shame,” Dain said. “This one looks persistent.”

“He is,” Kael said flatly. “It’s a problem.”

Lera arrived not long after, her gaze softer but no less observant as she took in the situation.
“I heard,” she said lightly. “Something about you taking in a new climber?”

“I didn’t,” Kael replied.

The boy opened his mouth.
Kael didn’t even look at him.
“Don’t,” she said.
He closed it.

Dain chuckled.
“This is entertaining.”

“It’s not,” Kael said.

“It is,” Lera corrected gently.

The day passed like that.

Work continued.
The boy stayed.
Dain and Lera exchanged looks more than once.

By evening, when the market began to settle, both of them returned together.

Dain leaned casually against the stall, arms crossed.
“You never told us you registered as a climber,” he said.

Kael didn’t even look up.
“I didn’t.”

Lera smiled faintly, a teasing edge in her voice.
“You should,” she said. “You’d clear those early floors in a few days.”

Kael rolled her eyes.

Dain followed immediately, his tone dry with sarcasm.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m sure you’d handle everything past the Twelfth too. Probably scare the monsters off with that attitude alone.”

Kael snorted despite herself.
“Efficient strategy,” she said.

They laughed.
Brief.
Light.

Then Lera’s expression shifted.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.

“And maybe,” she added more quietly, “you’d find Riven as well.”

The words settled.

Kael didn’t respond immediately.

“Don’t pretend you don’t care about him,” Lera continued gently.

Kael’s gaze dropped briefly to the table, her fingers brushing against the edge of it.

She exhaled once.

“…I don’t pretend,” she said.

But she didn’t say anything else.

Didn’t need to.

Because for the first time—
The thought didn’t feel distant anymore.

And neither did the Tower.

End of Chapter 17