Chapter Text
He knew what had happened before he saw it, the air stinked of smoke. It was plagued with the smell of ashes, destruction, and the unmistakable scent of burning flesh.
Just some hours ago he had been in Lux Aurea, fighting for peace, advocating for love. It all felt so distant now, so foreign. Like the memories of a kid who didn’t exist anymore, would never exist again. Because below the thick layer of smoke, his home, once so bright and filled with life, was only the agonizing echo of what it once had been.
Ezran took it all in, frantically looking for movement, a sound, any possible signal of life, of someone left trapped within the ruins. He needed to get to the castle, to land and make sure his family was safe. He kept repeating to himself that once he found Callum, Rayla and Soren it would all be just fine, that they’d find a way out together as they had done so many times before. He was useless if he panicked, and now more than ever he needed to be a strong king. So he breathed in and out, closed his eyes and tried to get a grip on himself.
They continued flying for what felt like an eternity and when they finally saw the castle, Ezran’s heart shattered. It was gone, all of it, every room and hallway disappeared, every tower collapsed, every stone tainted with blood and tragedy. Queen Aanya squeezed his hand tighter, he had forgotten she was riding with him, his grip on reality had begun to slip
“Oh thank god” Corvus cried. Ezran followed his gaze and saw Callum and Soren waiting for them below. They looked defeated, on the verge of collapse, but they were alive. Ezran’s heartbeat began to slow, his vision stopped spinning. ‘They’re okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.’
He got off as soon as they touched land. He tensed his whole body, trying to keep his legs from giving in.
Try to be grateful, see the positive side of things. But he dismissed the thought almost instantly. There was no more place for naivety he’d clung to; the innocence of a child. There was no more time to dwell with the past. He had to surrender every bit of his mind and self to try to find a way they could still have a future. He had to find the monster that had done this to his kingdom and see it dead.
The rest of them were crying, sorrow unguardedly written on their faces. But Ezran’s expression was stoic. He had not shed a single tear and in that moment he swore he wouldn’t; not in front of his people. Viren and his supporters were right. He hadn’t been fit to be a king, not then, he was ten for god’s sake. He’d been weak, impulsive, careless, too goddamned soft. He’d imposed so little respect that someone had dared come into his kingdom, his home, and burnt it to the ground.
This destruction, the death and despair that surrounded them was his cross to bear. He was undeniably at fault. But sinking into a hole of guilt and self loathing wouldn’t change the situation for the better, it could only make it worse. So he fought against the burning sensation behind his eyes and tried to at least look like he had his shit together.
Callum ran to him. Hugged him tight and desperate. His whole body was shaking. Ezran tried to comfort him but he couldn’t come up with something that would make him feel better. If he so much as uttered the wrong word his voice would crack and so would the dam that could barely hold back his tears. So he got straight to the point “Where’s Rayla? Is she okay?”
Still holding Ezran, Callum reassured him “Yeah, she’s safe. She’s on her way”
When Callum finally let go, Ezran saw everybody staring at him. Expectant. Maybe they were waiting for the moment he snapped, broke down. Maybe they were waiting for him to say something vaguely hopeful, like he always did. Like that would make a difference. Or maybe they were just looking in his eyes for a reflection of their own, a mirror of desolation, the proof that they weren’t alone in their pain.
For what felt like an eternity, they just stood there without saying a word. It was Soren who broke the silence.
“I’m so sorry” he cried, no longer able to hold their gaze. “I was supposed to take care of everyone. I swear I tried. I got most of the people out of the castle and found protection against the fire, but I don’t know how many died when the building collapsed.” He raised his eyes and hesitantly met Ezran’s. “I did everything I could, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough. I’m so-”
“Hey” Corvus said, reaching for Soren’s hands and holding them between his own. “You saved hundreds today. It is thanks to your brave and almost ridiculously selfless heart that they’re alive. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. Not one bit of this is your fault.”
“Soren, you’re our fucking hero” said Callum just before hugging him just as tight as he’d hugged his brother.
Ezran tried to come up with something to say. ‘Thank you, Soren’. ‘It will all be okay, Soren’. ‘I’m just so glad you’re alive because I love you so fucking much, Soren’. He opened his mouth. Closed it. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t act. For all his determination to get a grip and do something, anything, to make things better. He was frozen.
He needed time to process. He needed to be in a different place. He needed clean air. He needed a night of sleep. He needed someone to come and tell him how to act. He needed his dad. To travel back in time to the moment when he had a home, stability and father who bore the weight of the crown and actually seemed to have an idea on how to make things right.
‘No. Home is gone. Dad is gone. Just snap out of it’
“What happened?” he somehow managed to say steadily.
“A dragon. An enormous golden beast appeared out of nowhere from within the clouds. It started attacking faster than we could react. It was impossible to take it down.The castle was beginning to collapse even before the fire spread. I gave the order to evacuate. The soldiers and Opheli began to guide everyone out but I knew they wouldn’t have enough time to make it out. But I… I remembered the spell Viren did just before the Stormspire battle. So I went and got the only man that could do it. The only man who could save us from the flames”
“You freed Viren” Callum said, clearly panicking. Not that the rest of them were precisely calm
“Yes” said Soren, his expression was undecipherable. “He did it. The spell I mean. He made us immune to fire fractions of a second before the next attack hitted us. With our new strength we were able to save the people in the affected areas outside the castle. I’ve spent all day getting people out of the rubble and passing food and water. Opeli is organizing them and calming things down a bit”
“And what happened with Viren?”
“He’s gone” answered Soren after a second, still betraying no emotion
“We’ll we be better hurry up and find him because we’re not safe as long as he-” Callum said
“He’s dead”
Complete and total silence. Everyone froze. Well holy shit.
Yes, Viren was a terrible man, a disgrace of a human being. He had committed atrocities Ezran would never forgive. He didn’t feel one bit of sympathy for him. But his heart clenched for Soren. From a cold perspective, his friend had lost his dad long ago; Viren had abandoned him in every way a father never should. But him being actually dead added the undeniable irreversibility factor. Any hope of ever finding a trace of his father’s love, or sincerity at the very least, was gone.
Maybe a different man wouldn’t grieve Viren, some would even celebrate his death. But not Soren. Not sweet, kind, eternally noble Soren. Ezran was certain he’d mourn the man even though he never did anything to earn his tears. And he wasn’t about to let him suffer through it alone. It was that thought what finally forced Ezran out of the self-pity hole inside his mind.
“I’m so sorry Soren. I could never pretend to know what you’re feeling right now, but I understand the pain of losing a family member, we all do. I just need you to know that you’re profoundly loved. We are here for you and I promise you, we will always be. You’re not alone in this” For the first time since he read the news, Ezran didn’t struggle to come up with the words, they came straight from his heart
“You’re our brother Soren. You’re stuck with this family whether you like it or not. You can talk to us about anything and we’ll always have your back.” Though Callum’s face was stained from tears and ash, the look on his face was just simple love
“Man, are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?” Corvus said, worry written on his expression
“Not really” Soren’s voice came out more like a whisper “I- I’m not ready yet. I don’t- don’t even know what I feel. I need some time. God I’d kill for some hours of sleep right now”.
“Well that we can do”
“Thank you Ez but I can’t take you up on the offer just yet.”
“Soren, it’s okay. We’ll take the next shift. Help Opeli and keep looking out for the wounded”
"No, there's something else. Before you got here a man came to tell me there’s a huge dragon skeleton in the valley of kings. I don’t know if he was telling the truth, something felt a little off, but if he’s right I’m guessing that’s our dragon. Maybe it crashed there from his injuries. I really need to go make sure the threat is gone, for all I know we’re still in danger of another attack. If it’s not there maybe we should start a mass evacuation”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Callum and Corvus can you please go check?”
“Of course. We’ll be back soon.”
“Be safe.”
Callum glanced back at Ez, he looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t get the words out. But Ezran didn’t press and Callum left. Whatever he was going to say could wait, right? Enough had happened in one day.
Soren moved through the ruins looking for something. Maybe Ezran should be gathering stuff too. Weapons, food, medicine, clothes, surely something could be salvaged, they would certainly need all they could get. Ezran tried to get his mind to turn off so that he could methodically search for useful things without processing all the memories embedded into the broken useless pieces of what he had called home. But then Soren found what he was looking for: the throne. It was covered with ashes but it was mostly in one piece. And when Soren placed it at the top of all those rocks it stood just as tall and powerful as it always had.
Suddenly the world became whole again. Ezran was in the castle. The walls were strong and whole. And when he looked up he saw them. Sitting on the throne there was his dad with such a silly big smile on his face. And standing right next to him there was his mom with a matching, just slightly more gracious expression. They seemed to be posing for a portrait. And god, it was such a perfect time to do it. The day was bright, golden sunlight flooded every inch of the room. Harrow and Sarai were the bright perfect image of what a king and queen should be. Ezran’s heart was filled with something wild and unexplainable, he wanted to run and disappear in his parents embrace, but he was in such awe that he found it nearly impossible to move.
He was about to give the first step when Queen Aanya’s hand took him right back into reality. His pain was so great that he felt it in his blood. His parents were right there, he had seen them, he had felt them. He had been so certain. But it wasn’t real, they were gone and he was here, standing in what was left of the kingdom they worked so hard to protect. The kingdom his mother had given her life to save.
“King Ezran. In the name of the Kingdom of Duren I want you to know that while you lead your people back into hope and safety you will have our support” Oh grand Queen Aanya, always so regal. She spoke softly, her voice carried kindness and authority simultaneously and effortlessly. “You have my support. I’ll be here for you:”
“Thank you, Queen Aanya” He responded “And thank you too Soren”
He looked back at the throne. He could not see his parents anymore. But he could feel his dad. For years now, since the very first day he returned to Katolist after their quest to Xadia, Ezran felt Harrow’s presence eternally bound to every symbol of the king. Every time he sat at the throne he could hear the faint echo of his father. It used to be comforting, He felt like his dad was taking care of him. Making him stronger so that the world would respect him as king in spite of the fact that his legs didn’t come even close to touching the ground when he sat down on a throne that was at least three times his height. But he couldn’t find comfort in the ghost of his father, not now, he had to make things right first.
Ezran walked with his head held high, and he sat down. Gone were the days when he had to climb the throne, though it remained just a little too big. It didn’t matter. It was his own. He was King of Katolis, he would serve his people and become once and for all the leader they deserved.
…..
Callum and Corvus came back not long after. They said Sol Regem was dead. They had seen his skeleton, there was no room for doubt. He was truly gone and Ezran had no one to chase, no one to hunt down, no one to hold accountable.
All the others visibly calmed down after being reassured the threat was gone, that there’d be no second attack, no golden beast soaring the sky coming to finish what it started. Sol Regem was just an old, bitter dragon that had finally succumbed to insanity and irrationally decided to wreak havoc. He would cause no more harm, Katolis was safe. Except that didn’t make sense whatsoever. The notion that he had chosen to attack the home of the crown of Katolis at random was just ridiculous. Karim had been so sure he would be on the battlefield, why on Earth had he gone to Katolis instead? There was something deeply wrong but Ezran couldn’t see it and the others were too exhausted to try.
They decided the world could wait until the next day. That maybe once the sun had risen it would light the right way forward. Eventually Ezran was the only awake, staring at the sky. Not that there was anything to see, the smoke blocked the stars. But even if he was beyond exhausted, he couldn’t fall asleep, his mind didn’t allow him to. There was no sound, no light. So the only thing Ezran could hear was the overwhelming roar of his own thoughts, growing wilder and crueler. And the only thing he could see was the inescapable, yet distorted, memories of his parents, both whom he had failed spectacularly.
As the years went by Ezran felt less and less confident of whether he’s got his mom’s face right. He suspected his mind was just making up an image that resembled her, created from the paintings that his dad loved so deeply and kept everywhere in the castle. But he couldn’t know for certain, after all he had been too young when Queen Sarai died to claim he truly knew her. And yet he missed her, and he liked to believe he did know her, at least a little. After all, she certainly lived in Harrow, forever in his heart and mind, and her traits were all over Callum too. He had heard every story, from citizens that used to love her, from his dad and brother, from his aunt Amaya who had perhaps known Sarai better than anyone else. The greatest Queen of Katolis, just, fierce, passionate, brave, beloved Sarai. What would she think of her son who had not been able to protect the kingdom she sacrificed her life for?
What would his dad think? He wouldn’t be angry at him; Ezran knew so… thought so… hoped so. He did know Harrow. For all his displays of grandeur, to Ez he was just dad. God, he missed him. All of him. Yes, his strength, courage and protection but also his love, his sweet words, his terrible jokes, his amazing hugs, his ridiculous games. Years had passed and he hadn’t been able to fully cope with his absence. Maybe he never would. He liked to think Harrow would be proud of him, he was doing things right, they had succeeded in their quest, they had restored peace in the world, brought prosperity within Katolis and Xadia. His people were thriving, their world had gotten so much bigger. He made all his decisions from love and compassion, he defended the fair. He thought he was doing a great job. But he was proven wrong. The destruction of his home, the pain and death of his people, it was all his fault. He had let himself be perceived as weak and vulnerable. It was a mistake he would not make again.
The sun didn’t rise. The others didn’t wake up. He stood up and sat on the throne once again. Braced himself for the pain of Harrow’s presence. He didn’t know how much time had passed since his friends went to sleep. The wait was unbearable. Sleep deprivation was starting to do things to him. It shouldn’t have, it hadn’t been so long since he last slept, he had spent longer periods of time without rest. Maybe it was not sleep deprivation but something harder to fix, something inside him that had been broken by the weight of his guilt. He kept seeing his parents. He knew, he knew, he knew they were not there. But there was no escaping them. Regardless of whether his eyes were open or closed he kept imagining things. His dad’s desperate whispers, his mom’s soft cries.
And then, oh Ezran knew he had lost his shit. He was definitely hallucinating because mere meters away there was something impossible. A man who had risen from the dead. Walking around the ruins of his home, the place his father had loved most, was the elf that murdered him. The one who had tried to kill them on the bridge, Ezran was sure, he would have never forgotten the face of the man that took away his dad. He sank his nails into his arm, bit the inside of his cheek until he drew blood, trying to make this dream go away with the pain. What a cruel trick of his mind. But the elf didn’t vanish. No, no, he was real. He was here. It was him.
“You! It’s you! this is all your fault”
“Ezran, he’s been gone for two years” Rayla? Why was she so calm, didn’t she recognize him? Was Ezran wrong?, could he be confusing the elf with someone else? No, not that elf, he had permanently committed his features to memory
“Everything changed the day you came. You killed my father!”
“Ez wait. Please just calm down. Try to take a breath”
“A breath?” A breath? How dare he? No, something was wrong, very wrong, this was not happening, Callum did not just say that. “Soren arrest him”
“Ezran please, I’m begging you, let’s talk about this” Oh Rayla did know who he was, so did Callum and so did Soren who was, in fact, not arresting the elf. Ezran saw red.
“I’m sorry, why is everyone so okay with this? Why is there any question at all, any moral confusion? Are you not the elf who killed my father, the king of Katolis?”
They held each other's gaze. And Ezran knew. He knew it deep in his bones. He didn’t need the elf’s answer. He would take it out of him anyway if he dared to deny it. But he didn’t. He took a breath, closed his eyes as if gathering strength and then looked straight at the king “I am”
Soren started to take out his sword. The elf did not resist. He knelt in front of Ezran and left with Soren without saying another word. Rayla and Callum kept on arguing. He didn’t listen, couldn’t. His ears were buzzing, his vision was failing. Every thought and sensation was immense, overwhelming rage.