Fire on Fire: A Koralie Story

Chapter Eleven: Kenric

4358 words. Omg?? An update within like ten days of the last one? Guys I'm doing it I'm really writing. This is a longer one, so enjoy! Please vote and comment :)

Kenric

Kenric didn't think he'd ever return to Eternalia.

    Back when he was Councillor, it felt too stiff to be home, like even his residence was being put on show to trumpet the Council's superiority. But years in the Neverseen's captivity softened his memory of it.

    Tucked in a valley between faded blue mountains, the sprawling city was more glorious than he remembered — half of the towering buildings were new, created in colorful mosaics, and the Eternalia Library looked just as beautiful and grand and wise. Pink flowers still lined Ora's castle, soaking up the morning. The warmth of the sun's watchful gaze and the careful caress of the breeze tangled through bustling streets below. It was alive.

    He missed life.

    The most jarring part, perhaps, was the massive fountain with his name engraved across the ledgestone base in gold.

    Maybe he should've been offended that all he got was a memorial fountain. It was pretty — gold water rose and swooped and defied gravity in beautiful patterns, and strategically placed lights made droplets glow like soaring gemstones — but it was lazy. At least put his face on something.

    Actually, that would be weird.

    They should have a giant statue of him instead, right in front of the castles — Bronte's castle to be exact.

    Ora tried to glare at him when he said as much, but one wink and her face melted into a smile. She was holding his hand. Her touch was gentle, soft, and unbearably so. He'd give all of him to her in a heartbeat, but he couldn't give her this broken shell of a man, could he?

"Can you imagine how grumpy he'd be? I'd have to deal with that every day."

    Kenric waved her off. "Oh, he'd love it."

    "I would not."

    Kenric and Oralie turned to find Bronte standing behind them, arms crossed, scowling at them. The points of his ears looked as harsh as the rest of him. That must've meant he was happy to see Kenric.

    "What are you two doing here?" He glared at their clasped hands.

    "Enjoying the fresh air," Ora said, like an angel. She smiled as though inviting Bronte to do the same, but Kenric was pretty sure Bronte didn't breathe. Breathing was for idiots, obviously.

    "You should be inside the Tribunal Hall. If anyone caught Kenric out here —"

    "I know. I know," Oralie said quickly. "I just . . . The world feels so bright here."

    Bronte's eyes softened. He was always kinder to Oralie — well, less grumpy — but Kenric had never seen him like this. Perhaps he was overthinking it. He hadn't been home in so long.

    Not home. He didn't have a home anymore.

    "Come. Kenric, keep your hood up," Bronte said. "The Council requires your presence."

    He said it like Kenric wasn't a part of the Council. He wasn't, of course, but he hadn't realized how that title stood like an insurmountable wall until he stood outside of it.

    They followed Bronte to the Tribunal Hall, Kenric's fingers brushing the thick-cut glittering emerald of the entrance as they passed. The enormous double doors shut smoothly behind them, forming a pointed arch.