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Katolis was his home and it was burned down.
Ezran walked through the fallen rocks, ashes rising with every step, and small stones incrusting into his boot sole. He let out a sound that was a mix of a sob and a silent scream.
It had been barely twenty-four hours since they’d set foot here again and they were already planning to leave. Of course, he didn’t want to, but he understood it was for the better. They needed to regroup and think before making any move, see what resources they had for rebuilding, and make a plan.
His vision got blurry and one of his hands traveled to his cheeks to find them wet. When had he started crying? Ezran didn’t even remember, but now that he was aware he couldn’t restrain anymore.
Hot, thick tears started to roll down his face, and his legs stopped moving. His eyes traveled around. Some walls were still standing, and he could tell which were the kitchen, the stables, and the armory. Ezran could place almost every room in the castle in his mind.
He should be grateful , he knew, that the damage didn’t get to the town, but right now he only felt a void where his heart should be, consuming every thought and transforming it into sorrow and despair.
His home, where he had grown up, the place he considered he belonged to, wasn’t there anymore.
Katolis wasn’t just the castle, it was far greater than that. Still, without it, it felt like the entire kingdom had been erased from the map.
Ezran reached for his crown and took it off, holding it before his eyes, the edges were still blurry. The two uneven towers meant finding strength in difference, but right now he could only think about all the people he let down. Surely people would be losing faith in him , if the king couldn’t protect his own home, how would he be able to protect the citizens?
He was a failure. Katolis deserved better than him.
“Ezran?” Opeli called behind him.
Internally, he thanked her for not addressing him as king.
Sighing, he faced her, holding the crown with one hand and wiping his tears with the other.
“Yes?”
“Are you ready to go to the Banther lodge?”
Ezran hesitated. No, he wasn’t ready to leave his home, he would never be, which was ironic and stupid, considering how he had basically fled it two years ago to return Zym to his mother and how not so long ago he also abandoned Katolis to try and stop Aaravos. Yet, here he was.
“Is everything ready?” He asked instead.
Opeli nodded and bit her lower lip “I know this is difficult,” she muttered.
"It is.”
He closed his eyes, not wanting to cry again.
“But we must move forward to find a way to deal with this, after all the rest of the kingdom will still need attention.”
Opeli looked surprised at his words. Ezran himself was surprised that he didn’t start crying while saying it.
His heart had been already broken into pieces from the moment he read the letter, but now, being there, taking everything in was making all those pieces fall into a hole, shattering even more and getting lost. He didn’t know if he would be able to find every piece and put it back together.
A dry laugh escaped his lips, after all the castle wasn’t the only thing that had crumbled in Katolis.
“Are my brother and Rayla coming?” Ezran questioned, trying to distract himself from the emptiness in his chest and filling it with a burning sensation.
“Yes,” the high cleric looked down. “Though she’s been insisting Soren to free the assassin, claiming he won’t do anything harmful.”
Ezran inhaled, his blood starting to boil. At least this problem was something he could work on and focus on before facing the reality of everything that was lost under the flames and stones.
“Do not release him, by any means.”
Opeli nodded.
“Ok, let’s go , the earlier we arrive at the Banther Lodge the sooner we will make a plan to start rebuilding.”
Ezran turned around once more. Finally, there wasn’t more smoke emanating from the fallen castle, now it was all rocks, ashes, and personal belongings scattered through the remains of the corridors he had so many memories in.
Happy memories; playing with Callum, running and laughing after stealing jelly tarts, the secret passages he spent many hours in, and where he met Rayla.
The room he once shared with Callum , the room that belonged to his dad and mom, the same throne room that had seen all the kings and queens during generations. The library Callum had spent entire days in. Years of history written down in those books burned down.
Everything, buried in the furious revenge of a dragon. Every memory they’d created seemed to be just… gone.
Even if the streets outside would still emanate the vibrant, joyful Katolian energy, the castle felt dark and hopeless.
And even if it could be rebuilt almost entirely as it was before, Ezran knew it would never feel the same. All that was gone, tainted by anger, greed, and hostility.
He sighed.
As the king, he should be more positive and inspire hope and love, as he had always tried to do, but how could he do that when he felt lost in eternal darkness?
It would be tough.
Yet Ezran owed it to his father and to all the monarchs before him who worked hard to make Katolis one of the best kingdoms in the Pentarchy. It was the least we could do for all the people that worked in the castle. Ezran owed it to Katolis. He ought to show love and positivity even if he is being consumed by hatred.
It was his duty as king after all.