The next day arrived with pale sunlight filtering through the tavern windows. Jason returned quietly to the room, pushing the door open without a sound. Kaelen still slept deeply on the bed, chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm. The Ant King stood guard exactly where Jason had left it, six arms folded, golden eyes alert. It knew better than to do anything outside of what it was told, or it would risk incurring the wrath of the one he calls master.
Jason hadn’t slept. He couldn’t. Since absorbing the Marrow, rest had become unnecessary. His body operated at peak condition without it, yet the absence troubled him. Nights stretched long now, filled with thoughts instead of oblivion. He settled into a wooden chair beside the bed, watching Kaelen’s face twist occasionally with hidden distress.
This was another change he hadn’t asked for. No fatigue. No dreams of his own. Just endless awareness. Jason used the time productively. He observed every detail around them—the faint creaks of the tavern settling, distant voices from downstairs, the steady breathing of his companion.
"Survey the area from above," Jason said softly to the Ant King. "Stay hidden. Report anything unusual."
The creature clicked its mandibles once in acknowledgment. It moved to the window, wings unfolding silently, and launched into the sky with surprising grace for its size. Jason watched it vanish against the clouds before turning back to Kaelen.
He reached out and gently placed a hand on Kaelen’s forehead. The lizardkin’s brow was furrowed, sweat beading despite the cool room. Nightmares still plagued him. Jason closed his eyes and extended his consciousness, diving into the mental landscape without hesitation.
Inside Kaelen’s mind, fractured memories played like broken glass.
Dungeon corridors flooded with blood. The spider queen’s final screams. Friends dying in the dark. Jason navigated the chaos calmly, his presence a steady anchor. He didn’t erase the pain—that wasn’t his place—but he wove subtle threads of calm through the terror, softening the sharpest edges.
Kaelen’s breathing evened out slightly. The nightmare shifted, becoming less violent. Jason stayed connected, monitoring without intruding further. Hours passed this way. He remained motionless in the chair, one hand on Kaelen’s head, the other resting on his knee.
The Ant King returned twice during the morning, landing silently on the roof to report. Clear skies, no immediate threats nearby. Jason nodded each time and sent it out again.
By midday, Kaelen stirred but didn’t wake fully. Jason kept watch, using the sleepless hours to plan their next moves. The council, Tartaros, Namtar’s mysterious master—everything was building toward something larger. He couldn’t afford to waste time on rest he no longer needed.
Jason’s expression stayed calm, but inside he noted the growing changes that were becoming more prominent. The Marrow had given him power, but it also stripped away pieces of normalcy. For now, he focused on the one thing he could control: protecting those around him.
-
The council chamber remained silent long after the last images faded from the scrying crystal as it replayed numerous times, each time they tried to find a weakness. Residual mana still flickered across the polished obsidian table, showing the final moments of the battlefield: bodies crushed in neat lines, one towering lords of fire and shadow dissolving back into orbs, and Jason standing unbothered amid the carnage. The powerful force of over one hundred elite mages had been dismantled in under five minutes by a single person.
These weren’t bottom feeders or foot soldiers either, these mages were strong in their own right.
No one spoke at first because they were still in disbelief.
The orc who had once punched Jason in this very chamber broke the silence with a low, uneasy growl. His massive green fists rested on the table, knuckles white. "I punched that thing once. Full strength. He walked away without a scratch. Looking at this... if he had decided to take me seriously that day, I would already be dead."
Thar the Ironjaw sat nearby, arms crossed, expression dark. He said nothing at first, but his tusks ground together in clear agreement with the sentiment.
Elyndra Silverveil remained composed, hands folded neatly.
"Exactly. That is why we need him."
Zrix the Spark leaned forward, eyes bright with manic interest. "The energy readings were off the charts! Those two entities—Ember and Shade—weren’t constructs. They were genuine Marrow Lords! He didn’t force them. They answered him willingly!"
Valthor the Veiled spoke from the shadows at the edge of the table. "He knew we were watching. The clairvoyance spell cut the moment his gaze turned toward it. That was not coincidence."
Graznak the Slumbering scratched his belly and yawned. "So he put on a show. Big deal. Strong people do that when they know eyes are on them."
This was rightfully downplaying what Jason did was a moral act, and he was simply acting for the cameras.
The orc who had attacked Jason earlier slammed a fist down, cracking the table further. "A show? He slaughtered an entire army while walking. That was no performance for our benefit. That was restraint. He could have done far worse."
Thar finally spoke, voice heavy with distrust. "He is an abomination. Walking free after what he did yesterday only proves the council’s weakness."
Elyndra’s voice cut through the tension. "Jason is not simply a mage. He is a vessel. Something greater resides within him now—the Marrow itself, reshaped and claimed. We cannot close the tears without that power. You all know the truth. The tears have existed for over ten months. Not one has closed. They only widen. Every day the barriers thin further. Realms press closer. If we do not act, this world will tear itself apart."
Lirra the Dreamer uncoiled slightly on her cushions. "And he is still in the town. I can feel his energy. Stable. Not causing chaos. That alone is unusual for someone of his level."
Thar’s eyes narrowed. "You speak as if he is some controlled weapon. We allowed him to leave, and still he walks among civilians like nothing happened."
Elyndra met his glare without flinching.
"He held his end of the agreement. He neutralized the enemy’s force without destroying the town. That was the bargain. In return, we do not hinder him while he addresses the larger threat."
"Bargain," Thar spat. "He only performed because he knew we were watching. The moment he sensed the observation, he switched tactics. That was calculated. Not cooperation."
Zrix tilted his head. "Even if calculated, the result stands. He has power we cannot match. The Marrow Lords alone prove it."
Valthor’s voice remained soft. "Jason is aware. He always has been. He walked into our prison knowing the cuffs would fail. He allowed the earlier tests. Yesterday was no different. He chose to demonstrate rather than annihilate completely."
Thar pushed his chair back and stood. The wood groaned under his weight. "I will not sit here and pretend this is strategy. An evil like that does not change because we give it permission. He is using us the same way we hope to use him."
Elyndra’s tone stayed even. "Then what do you propose? Force another confrontation? You saw what happened to the elites of the enemy. Do you believe you would fare better?"
The orc’s jaw tightened. For a moment the chamber felt the weight of his restrained fury. "I propose we stop pretending. I need air."
He turned toward the heavy doors without waiting for permission.
Graznak called after him. "Going to sulk in the training yards again?"
Thar did not look back.
"I am going out. That is all you need to know."
The doors slammed behind him. The remaining council members exchanged glances.
Elyndra spoke first. "He will confront Jason. That much is clear."
Zrix’s enthusiasm dimmed slightly. "If he does, and Jason decides the orc is a threat..."
"Then we will see the true limit of Jason’s restraint," Valthor finished quietly.
Lirra sighed. "And if Jason is still in the town, watching over that lizardkin companion of his, this will not remain private for long."
Elyndra rose from her seat. "Monitor the town. Do not interfere unless absolutely necessary. Jason has already proven he can sense observation. Pushing further may force a reaction we cannot control."
The crystal on the table still held the final image of Jason standing alone on the battlefield, the two Marrow Lords fading behind him. None of the council members looked away quickly.
Outside the chamber, Thar moved through the corridors with heavy steps. He did not head toward the training grounds.
He did not inform any guards of his destination. The discomfort of allowing someone he viewed as fundamentally evil to walk free had become unbearable. He needed to judge the human himself—face to face, without the filter of scrying magic or council politics.
Whether that judgment ended in words or blood remained to be decided.