Dreamwatcher | KOTLC

Chapter Twenty Three: Candleshade

Fitz's mind raced to keep up with him and his thoughts. Why did I do that, he wondered. Truth is, he didn't even know where he was going, and where he should be going. Paris, he reminded himself. Paris . . . . How in the Lost Cities was he ever supposed to get there? 

Fitz stopped to catch his breath and noticed that he was on a hillside, with a beautiful, mystical purple tree next to him. "Calla's tree," he breathed. He casually walked over, placing his hand on the firm tree trunk. When was the last time that he and his friends had come to visit her? Come to think of it, it had been a while since they last came here all together . . .

Looking back, and seeing his home underneath a nearing sunset, he wondered how he was ever going to find his friends. He was alone. "Right now, I'm all I've got. I need to act smart," he whispered. Was there really no one else?

He sat down, avoiding the wet areas on the grass; he needed to think. "How . . . How can I get to Earth?" 

Then it hit him. 

No, literally, something hit him. 

"OW! What was that?" Fitz wailed, clutching his head in pain. He looked everywhere, finding a little imp on the ground with a letter crunched in his teeth. 

"Iggy?" Fitz asked the little Imp, shuffling centimetres closer. "Is that you? What are you doing here?"

Iggy ignored his curiousness, and instead dropped the now crushed shreds of paper. Fitz cautiously picked up the papers, avoiding eye contact with Iggy. He squinted his eyes, wondering what the papers could be. 

It was a note. 

Fitz was luckily able to piece together the separate papers but was soon stuck wondering what the note could mean. 

We Need To Talk.

一 Councilors

"The Councillors?" Fitz asked himself. "Why do they want to talk to me?" 

He shrugged and stood up, then decided to head back towards home, but soon took a detour to the LeapMaster. 

"Take me to Eternalia," he said, then was covered in white mist as he was teleported to see the Councillors. 

Once he arrived at Eternalia, he looked around in wonder. He had forgotten how fascinating it was. 

Clearing his thoughts, he set off towards the towering domed building that lay in front of him. "It's so . . . sparkly," Fitz said as more of a question than a statement. But he wasn't wrong; the dome did feel more magical than usual.

And, strangely, all twelve Councillors were sitting in a row at a long table. Councillor Oralie stood up and sauntered over to Fitz. "Hey, Fitz. Sorry about the note. Bronte, over there, is too frightened to talk to you himself."

"I was not!" Councillor Bronte protested, standing up himself. "I didn't want to go at the time because he was busy!"

Councillor Oralie and Councillor Bronte glared at each other. 

"Okay, why am I here?" Fitz said in the midst of silence. Councillor Oralie and Councillor Bronte were too busy bickering, so Councillor Alina stepped out to talk to Fitz. 

"Were you or were you not wanting to travel to Paris, France?" She asked impatiently. 

Fitz gaped. How did she know? "But how . . . ?"

"After you decided to run off to try to be a hero and save your colleagues—" Bronte recapped.

"Friends," Fitz corrected him. 

"As she was saying," Councillor Alina replied darkly. "To save your colleagues at a place where no one else believes they are." 

Bronte looked over and snickered.

 But Fitz was embarrassed. "You know what?" He asked after clearing his throat, preparing to face down Dame Alina. "So you know I want to go to Paris? Then help me get there. You seem very anxious to embarrass me once again, so why don't you be nice for once and help!" And quietly, but loud enough for her to hear, he added, "Your title makes no difference to your personality, Dame Alina. 

Then Fitz, too happy for himself to think straight, walked out of the dome. "Drat! I can't walk back inside, or else I'll look stupid!" He yelled at no one in particular. 

Fortunately, Councillor Emery followed him outside. "I know who can help you," he said while taking a piece of paper out of his pocket from who knows where. "Go to this address," Councillor Emery instructed, before walking back inside. 

"That was . . . odd," Fitz said to himself before taking a look at the paper. 

Candleshade.

"Candleshade?" Fitz asked. "Where Keefe lives—or used to live." He shrugged and made his way back to the Leap-Master he had used before. "Take me to Candleshade," he whispered, then was once again enveloped with white sparkles. 

一一一一一

When Fitz arrived, standing in front of Keefe's towering mansion, he prepped himself for anything possible. Who knows what could be inside? 

To some people, pushing open the huge wooden doors of the Sencen residence would be a dream 一 but not for Fitz. For him, it was a nightmare. It reminded him of so much 一 of everything that he had been through, and whatever reminded him of Keefe. 

Oddly enough, every door except for one was locked. Maybe Councillor Emery was in there? Maybe he had planned this? 

Maybe not. 

As he walked in the room, at the end lay one single table and one single chair, with one single man sitting in it. But it wasn't any man. . .

"Mr. Forkle?" Fitz asked. 

"Fitz, relax," Mr. Forkle reassured him. Fitz was nervous. 

Confused. 

Scared.

"What are you doing here?" He yelled. He didn't know why he was acting this way, or how he should act, but he was. 

"Fitz, just let me explain," Mr. Forkle tried until his facial expression changed. "Don't make me pull out any sedatives," he threatened, which, luckily, worked. 

"You have two minutes," Fitz muttered in defeat. 

"Very well, then," Mr. Forkle said, pleased. "It's about time you learned the truth about Keefe."