Revival Of Stars

9 | To Grill

CHAPTER 9
•••

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

After pushing in the code, the gilded gates opened with a creak, and the black car drove through. Out of each window, long stretches of dark green grass spread on for miles. The mountains in the background were faint, but apparent as the peak appeared gallantly with the rays of the sun caressing it. Colossal houses stood like mighty statues on the green valley.

The car drove past the mansions, until the third one came into view. Gravel crunched under the tires before the car rode over the smooth, pristine concrete that was the driveway.

Oran sighed as he turned the ignition off.

An echo of a strained scream blared through his head as he collected the books from the passenger seat. Back in Main Wispern, after dropping off the girl, Oran had tried his best to avoid the Town Center again, but, just like always, the screams were loud, and the cheering afterwards was equally vociferous.

Even as he walked up the front stairs, glided over the porch, inserted the key into the door, passed the foyer—the screams were incessant, piercing. He hadn't seen the brutal act, but hearing it was traumatizing enough.

"Oran, you're back," his father sighed in relief from the kitchen. Oran walked through the archway and saw his parents leaning over the island. Upon seeing him, Navine stalked over to her son and embraced him warm-heartedly: an act that rarely occurred.

"What's with the hug?" Oran asked confusedly, his hands hovering awkwardly over her back.

"What? Can I not give my own son a hug?"

He hesitated before lightly hugging her back.

His father plucked a cookie from one of the trays and bit the edges. "How'd it go in Main? Did the Royal Purge happen?"

Navine let go of Oran before moving back to the island, her hands swatting away at Dray's nimble fingers as they reached for another cookie.

"Yeah," Oran replied glumly.

His father shook his head. "People like the Vespers and their followers are what's wrong with the world."

"Yeah..." sighed Oran once again.

"Disgusting, vile people. Every unjust act is justified because of the crown over their heads and the power of wielding that damn sword," his father cussed.

"Dray."

"Am I wrong?" he laughed.

Navine hung her head as a thought passed over her mind. "Just the thought of Lance crossing paths with one of them...it worries me."

"Yeah..." Oran stared out the windows morosely, gazing at their grand pool, the clean-cut grass, and just the serenity of it all. When would this shimmer of a veil lift?

Footsteps suddenly thundered down the staircase, and, a moment later, Lance appeared by the archway to the kitchen.

"What's up?" he said. A slight grimace fell over his face as he took in the heavy atmosphere. "What's going on?"

Dray Bishop quickly stole another chocolate chip cookie before prancing away. "Nothing! Nothing. Just talking about the books Oran checked out."

"Oh," Lance shrugged. "Okay." He then casted a look to Oran, one eyebrow raised. "How'd it...go?"

"Fine. I dropped the...books off safely."

Lance nodded, understanding. "Good."

Navine walked around the counter and handed Lance a cookie; his face lit up as thanked her. Dray Bishop proceeded into another conversation, one about a swimming tournament coming up.