𝐄𝐤𝐤𝐨 | 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬

24. Regrets

I kicked the tip of my boot against the wood of the overlook in the main tree, letting myself lean forward, resting my arms on the railing.
The tree's roots curved down like a cradle, branches blooming high above, catching sunlight in that ethereal way I now had gotten used to seeing.

The Firelight base buzzed faintly around me.
Distant laughter, footsteps, the usual life I started liking more and more with each day that passed.

But I was waiting.

I always waited here on the evenings. Ekko said he liked how the light hit the space between the branches. Said it reminded him that we were still alive, and that beautiful things still exist.
That no matter how high Piltover built its towers, they couldn't stop the sun from finding us.

So I waited. Boots tapping. Heart steady. A dreamy smile on my lips that I never worried about hiding any longer.

And— he didn't come.
Not at first. Not after a few minutes. Not after ten.

It wasn't like him. He wasn't the type to lose track of time, not with me. Especially not now.
I stood upright, moving away the railing. I wasn't worried, just curious.
Curious enough to push off from the overlook and make my way back toward the hollow centre of the base, where most of the firelights gathered.

I figured maybe Kara had grabbed him for something. Of he was helping with the new batch of kids from the Lanes. He was always doing something and I liked that about him, admittedly.

The closer I got, the more I could hear murmurs. Muted voices in one of the inner chambers— Ekko's voice among them.
I paused, slowed, smiled. Ready to see what he was up to.

There wasn't anything unusual about a Firelight meeting. I kinda found it intriguing, watching my little man act all tough and grown. Juvenile thoughts, really. I should have been ashamed.

Something told me to be quiet, whispering, telling me to listen.
I moved without thinking. Around the side, slipping between the storage crates, creeping through the quiet. I pressed myself against the wall just outside the open slats of wood where light filtered in as if following me.
I didn't mean to eavesdrop.
But I did.

"...Jayce said they'd be willing to open talks," Ekko was saying. My stomach dropped, and I faltered.
"They're trying to rebuild, same as us. And if there's a chance to make peace, maybe this is how it works."

Silence. My smile slowly disappeared.
Then Kara's voice followed, cautious.
"You think the council's actually changed? After what they did?"

"They're fractured now. Half of them are already convinced of this, some councillor's been removed for good, Jayce is leading. Things have been moving. This could be real."

"I don't know, Ekko. You think we'll have everyone on board?"
Another voice, "We've lost a lot. If we can stop the bleeding—"

I stopped listening. The air in my lungs went still.
Jayce. The council. Peace.
What the hell?!
I pressed my back harder against the wall, clenching my fists like I needed it to hold pieces of me together.
Ekko. Talking peace. With them.

With the people who handed down the laws that crushed my parents. The ones who called it "order" when they let my world fall apart.
Who let enforcers loose like dogs, then called themselves merciful when the killing slowed down.
He knew. He knew what they did, what they meant to me. What they'd taken from all of us.
And still... he wanted to give them a seat at the table.