35. Kellen

Chapter 35

Kellen

“Did you even give anyone else a chance to try and be rope burn coach?” Headmistress Dyer drawled to Kellen before handing him the uncoated groundwood paper needed for rope burn.

“Fuck no,” Kellen proclaimed, accepting her offering. “This event is mine.”

Headmistress Dyer scoffed but wasn’t able to concoct a response denying his claim. The whole school knew rope burn belonged to Kellen Kilic and Kellen Kilic alone. The Gold Team would be required to go through the motions of participating in the event, but everyone mutually understood that the likelihood of defeating Kellen was next to nothing. Kellen’s eyes swept over the rows of children on the Red Team, identifying the names on his list of eligible students who’d been blessed with being assigned to his team and would soon taste their first victory of Maccabiah as feeders and matches. He also surveyed the Gold Team’s collection of wind-benders across all grade levels, since he would need to pick two Meteoro students from the other team to play the part of the Red Team’s breeze. Once breezers were chosen, they would stand next to his team’s pit crew and blow wind at the conflagration to make it harder for the matches to maintain a flame.

His top contenders were all on the Red Team. The weakest wind-benders, in his opinion, were all on Gold.

An easy win ahead.

“You couldn’t have made it a tiny bit harder for me, Valerie?” Kellen quipped to Dyer. “Just to keep it interesting?”

Dyer gave him her shoulder as a firm dismissal.

The Gold Team’s rope burn coach was Aithne Hayes, a Meteoro fire-bender who’d been in the grade above Kellen at Delmarth. Twice when they were students, they’d been matches together during rope burn and had claimed two victories. Any time they were against each other on different teams, Kellen always beat her. Flames appeared inside Aithne’s pupils as she fired a provocative grin at Kellen. His own fire entered his gaze, smoke ballooning from his flared nostrils while his arms twisted across his chest so every burly brawn of his was on full display, his power unavoidable.

“Your reign ends this year, Kilic,” Aithne taunted. Kellen loosed a sinister laugh.

“Remember to have fun, Hayes.” He gave her arm a condescending pat. “It’s all about the kids, after all. And try not to cry when you lose. No one likes a sore loser.” Fire leaked down the unfettered locks of her black hair.

“Gold Team,” Headmistress Dyer announced. “Since you won Chop, you’ll be first to pick your feeders, matches, and breezers.” Aithne swept her amber eyes over the throng of students on her side.

“For feeders,” Aithne decreed, “I choose Achira Fallti and Dahy Artak.”

Achira Fallti, a senior, had been on Kellen’s short list for strength-wielders. If Achira was on the Red Team, he most likely would have picked her, so that was a choice he understood. He was surprised by the selection of Dahy Artak, though, an eighth-grade speed-wielder to whom he’d had no exposure. The two students barreled down the steps on the side of the bleachers, the crowd approving the selection with raucous shouts and applause. Kellen narrowed his focus over Dahy as they sprinted to stand beside Aithne, cords of Kellen’s Cerebri power splitting through the young boy’s mind to give him a window into Dahy’s head, not that the Herculea could see or feel Kellen invade his mind.

He used that opening to take in the totality of the boy’s power. He found a surprising volume of glute power lingering around Dahy’s limbs for someone so young. Aithne smiled at Kellen like she knew exactly what he was doing and sensing.

You’re not the only one who planned ahead for this, Kilic, she sneered into his head.

Dahy was powerful, yes, but not more powerful than Kellen’s selection of speed-wielders on Red. Still, he plastered on a perturbed mask, hunching his shoulders so Aithne would think he was concerned.

“For matches,” Aithne continued, “I pick Jade Cadmus, Ryu Goldeel, and Kaida Long.” Kellen was impressed—everyone she’d picked had been on his own list, showing she’d clearly been paying as much attention as he had. “For breezers,” her eyes oscillated to the Red Team, her fire-steeped fingers tapping against her chin in contemplation. “I choose Esen Coro and Nasmia Avel.”

Kellen almost laughed out loud.

She just shot her own team in the foot by picking Esen Coro, one of the strongest wind-benders in the school, known for creating colossal cyclones with a flick of his wrist and zero exertion.

Did you forget that you’re supposed to pick weak wind-benders for yourself? Kellen taunted Aithne.

Why give the kids an easier time when they’re meant to be using this to improve their skills? Aithne shot back.

He couldn’t deny she had a point there in how choosing Esen was better for truly testing the children’s abilities, what Maccabiah was actually intended for. However, for his own selfish reasons, he cared about winning more than giving them a true test of skill, so he’d give them the advantage with easier picks.

Now that Aithne’s pit crew and breezers were solidified, Headmistress Dyer turned her attention onto Kellen.

“Red Team,” she said, “pick your feeders, matches, and breezers.”

“For feeders,” he began, his voice resembling thunder in volume and clarity, “I choose Suri Chapel and Gatik Avran.” Aithne sucked in a harsh breath as the two Herculea students, Gatik a strength-wielder freshman and Suri a speed-wielder junior, climbed down the bleachers and joined Kellen by Headmistress Dyer. Suri reached him first, presenting a lustrous smile as she flanked his other side. For the last three years, Suri had asked him every day to make her a feeder, and he’d promised her that when her time was right, she’d be his first pick. He kept his word. “For matches,” Kellen continued with a smile outlining his words. He knew the reaction he was about to garner with this controversial choice. “I choose Eliane Azar, Adeen Brigid, and Eulaylia Kilic.”

Gasps resounded from all corners of the arena.

In the history of Delmarth Academy, a sixth grader had never been chosen to be a match in rope burn. Kellen thought his brother would be thrilled by his choice, but smoke dribbled out of the sides of Jarion’s mouth when his upper lip curled skyward in a growl. Laya and Noella’s jaws both dropped in unison.

Kellen, what the fuck are you doing? Jarion barked at him. She’s too young. She’s going to be so embarrassed if she’s the reason we lose.

Have some fucking faith in our sister, Kellen snapped, watching Laya rise from her spot on the bleachers, fiddling with the ends of her long hair, and make her way down the steps onto the asphalt, scuttling over to him.

He heard Noella’s voice in his head stammer, Are you sure she’s ready for this, Kell? Her fire just emerged.

She can do this, Kellen promised, smiling down at Laya.

“What’re you doing, Kell?” Laya whispered to Kellen. Suri made space for Laya to stand next to her brother.

“I’m making sure we win rope burn,” he answered. Laya’s eyes glimmered at his clear faith in her.

Everyone doubting this choice didn’t have the window into Laya’s head that Kellen had. Mr. Park might’ve called her fire baby sparks —a description Kellen found insulting, considering Laya’s dragon fire was already at the level of a ninth grader—but where she was just starting with her fire was already far ahead of dragon-shifters who’d been working to enrich their fire for years. She was just reining it in because she hadn’t been given a proper outlet to release it. Rope burn was the perfect opportunity for Laya to fully unleash her fire in a controlled environment and gain confidence in her release from securing them a win.

He ripped his eyes off Laya and pinned them over the Gold Team, declaring, “For breezers, I choose Haizea Enlil and Anila Makani.” Aithne shook her head as the two wind-benders on Gold descended the bleachers.

Cop out, Aithne snarled with an eye roll. You picked the easiest wind-benders and your fucking sister.

Say another word about my sister, Aithne, and I’ll feed you to our winning fire when my kids dominate yours, Kellen hissed.

You better be ready to comfort your sister when she’s the reason you lose. Aithne tossed her flaming hair over her shoulder before she began leading her pit crew to the Gold Team’s side.

A moment passed before two gigantic poles appeared in front of the Red Team, the same materializing across the arena in front of the Gold lineup. The metal posts burrowed into the soil, a wide range of space between them due to the massive, thick rope the poles buoyed twenty feet above their heads and spread out to its full width. The rope was sopping wet from being submerged in enchanted water for the last twelve weeks, sprinkling streams of droplets onto the terrain.

“Feeders, get into position,” Headmistress Dyer commanded. Suri steered her body to face the forest behind them.

“Look for oak wood,” Kellen directed them in the short period he was given to offer advice. “It’s the best type of wood for maintaining a fire. Oak has a distinctive grain pattern. It tends to be more wavy with knots and unique markings. Gatik, focus on cutting the trees down and passing Suri the wood to run back here. Don’t go back and forth with her. Stay in the forest. She will need to run back to get more.”

“Got it, coach.” Gatik leapt onto Suri’s back, hugging his legs around her waist, his arms twisting over her shoulders. Kellen passed Gatik the axe with a red hilt that had been lying on the ground in anticipation of rope burn.

“We won’t let you down, Mr. Kilic,” Suri promised.

“I know you won’t.” Kellen touched the back of Suri’s head, then stepped away from them.

“On your mark,” Headmistress Dyer yelled. “Get set…GO!”

The crowds erupted in screams as Suri launched frontward and dissolved into the wind from her staggering velocity. Kellen didn’t take a single moment to look at the Gold’s side to see what Dahy and Achira were doing, shifting his focus to his remaining pit crew, his three matches awaiting their orders.

“Begin by stacking wood as if you were building a cabin,” he explained to the pit crew. Laya’s brows adorably furrowed. with intensity as she absorbed every bit of information he shared with them. “Place several pieces of wood parallel on the bottom, then stack the next row on top, perpendicular. Repeat this until your fire reaches the desired height, which should be about halfway up the length of the poles, then place the groundwood paper in the center square before you ignite.” He passed Eliane, the oldest of the chosen matches, the groundwood paper Headmistress Dyer gave him. The senior fire-bender tucked the provisions into her sweater pocket and squared her slim shoulders. “Don’t use all your paper at once. Ration it. If the wind-benders blow out your fire, you’re going to need more, so make sure you’re not using too much at one time.”

“How do you suggest to best way to ignite?” Eliane asked.

“I want you to go first, Elie, and lay the base for the fire,” he commanded Eliane. “Your fire is the oldest of the three of you, so I want you to create the foundation. Then Adeen,” he turned to the sophomore fire-bender, “I want you to pile your fire on top of Eliane’s. Laya, you’re last. I want your fire at the top.”

“Why?” Laya squeaked.

“Because while your fire is the newest, it’s the most potent out of the three. You have the best shot of burning through the rope.” The three girls nodded their heads in understanding of their various tasks.

Suri suddenly returned, carrying four gigantic logs in her nimble arms. From Kellen’s quick inspection, he confirmed it was oak wood and gave her a thumbs up in approval. She let the logs topple to the ground before she disappeared, blinking from existence as she sprinted back to Gatik, returning a second later with more wood, creating a pile of cleanly trimmed firewood on the asphalt. Eliane, Adeen, and Laya rushed forward, gathering the wood, and began stacking the logs in the same way Kellen told them to, first with a row of ten firewood, parallel with one another on the bottom, then the next row perpendicular on top, facing the opposite way, repeating this switch of direction with each new row. Suri kept appearing with more logs for them to use, the Canterna Thicket regenerating with magic every time a tree was cut down, gifting them an unlimited supply of wood.

Adeen suddenly looked up and croaked, “Shit, they started their fire already!” Kellen turned to look.

The Gold Team’s groundwork of logs was a fucking mess. Just wood tossed into a jumbled heap of kindling with no order or security. Yes, they’d already ignited a flame, but those logs would fall eventually and yank their fire right down with them. Kellen could hear Aithne screaming at them to fix their logs, but her team didn’t seem to respect her opinion as much as his team did.

“Don’t worry about them,” Kellen assured. “Keep with what you’re doing. Don’t get sloppy.”

Sweat percolated over Suri’s brow—not from running, but from carrying the logs. The speed-wielder threw her whole body into feeding them the wood they needed, not letting a little thing like exhaustion deter her.

“You can take a breather,” Kellen told her when she returned from one of her rounds gasping.

“No breaks,” she snapped, not at him, but at her own body for showing any sign of weakness. He’d chosen Suri as a feeder not just because she was the best runner in her grade, but because he’d never met a speed-wielder with such a fierce determination and hunger for victory. She’d been the smallest in her grade when she first arrived at Delmarth and had defied all the odds stacked against her, proved everyone who doubted her wrong when all her teachers—apart from Kellen, who had always seen her for exactly who she was—thought she wouldn’t amount to anything.

“They need four more logs before they can start igniting,” Kellen said. “Go get them and then take a break with me.”

“Okay.” Suri wiped her brow, then vanished. Three seconds later, which showed Kellen she was slowing down and desperately needed a second to rest, she returned, dropping the logs at Kellen’s feet and expelling a harsh wheeze.

“Sit,” he ordered. “ Now, Suri.” Suri slumped on the ground next to him with an overwhelmed moan that bled into a whimper. Noella suddenly appeared and passed Suri a bottle of water. Kellen gave Noella a tight smile, then sunk to his knees to whisper to Suri, “I may get intense about rope burn, but this event is supposed to be fun. It’s not worth killing yourself for. You’ve already made me immensely proud. I’ll be even more proud of you for taking a breather when you need one.” Suri choked on a sob, giving the hand he’d placed on her shoulder a squeeze.

His eyes found Noella, his reason for existing. She nodded her head in approval.

Kellen’s matches were working in a synchronized succession with one another to build the foundation. Neither of the older classmen talked down to Laya or pushed her to the side, viewing her as an asset rather than a hindrance because of her size and experience. From the way they worked together in harmony, Adeen lifting Laya on her shoulders so his little sister could reach the top of their configuration and position the groundwood paper in the middle, Kellen knew he’d chosen his girls well.

“FUCK!” Aithne shrieked as the Gold Team’s fire sputtered out, the force of Esen’s wind vanquishing their burgeoning flame. The logs at the bottom of their unsystematic mess of a pile began slipping, sending the wood trundling in various directions, some rolling under the bleachers.

“Elie! Start igniting!” Kellen screamed at Eliane the moment the Red Team’s last log settled into place, their firm foundation stretching out to reach the middle point of the pole, a perfect starting position.

His three matches backed away from their well-founded base to form a defensive wall between their foundation and the two wind-benders from Gold. Eliane spread her fingers and steered them at the wood, a groundswell of flames gushing from the center of her palms, drenching the surface of their formation of logs. Haizea and Anila, the wind-benders from Gold, sent a torrent of wind at Eliane’s kindled flames, but she tossed more fire in opposition, throwing everything she had at the logs, fighting against the current. Adeen waited to see if Eliane’s fire would taper off from the impact of the wind before she raised her hands and hurled her own fire at Eliane’s, the two conflagrations combining to create a vortex of crimson and orange, tinged with gilded light from the dappled sun. Haizea propelled more wind at them, the breeze susurrating in Kellen’s ears, but the two female’s united flames were too strong for her wind to break through. The current failed to make a dent.

The Gold Team’s matches had reignited a flame, though they were struggling to maintain it with Esen’s wind crashing into the inferno. Every time their fire stretched close enough to reach the rope, Esen’s wind knocked the fire to the side and kept it off the cable. From Aithne’s mouth agape in a silent scream and her fingers wrenching at her hair, Kellen knew she was regretting giving her matches such a difficult challenge by picking Esen as a breezer. Kellen peeked over at his sister, her eyes glued to Eliane and Adeen’s fire, waiting for their flame to broaden high enough towards the rope for her to jump in. Her fingers stroked her throat where her fire was building.

You can do this, Laylie, Kellen assured her, her gaze flying to him.

What if I can’t and I slow us down? she squeaked in the form of a mewl. I’ll be the laughingstock of the school.

You’ve already broken the record for the youngest match in Delmarth history. You’ve already kept up with Adeen and Eliane beautifully. No one could ever call you a laughingstock, Laya, and no one will after you win us rope burn. Laya’s eyes filled with tears. Her posture straightened in acceptance of his praise.

As Eliane and Adeen’s fire approached the rope, Laya positioned herself in a half-lunge, her hands balling up into fists at her sides. Her eyes fluttered shut, a sequence of slow, paced breaths passing in and out of her chest. When Laya’s eyes reopened into the world, the green hue superseded by the slits of a dragon, she unhinged her jaw and bellowed a vociferous scream that scythed through the ether, fire spurting off her tongue along with the earsplitting sound. The entire Red Team stood in unison, beholding the twelve-year-old girl and her undeniably potent fire with awe as her flames jetted up to meet Adeen’s and Eliane’s, slamming into their concoction and topping their conflagration in violet embers. Kellen could hear Jarion screaming amidst the uproar of the crowd.

“THAT’S MY GIRL!” Jarion roared. “YOU’VE GOT THIS, LAYLIE! KEEP GOING!”

“GO LAYA!” Noella shrieked beside Kellen, her face cracking with an enormous, gorgeous grin.

The wildfire Kellen’s matches created finally reached the rope.

All three females pitched everything they had at the rope. Eliane and Adeen pushed Laya’s fire further up so her violet flames wrapped around the thick cable. Haizea and Anila lobbed wind at them to try and drive their fire away, the way Esen did to the Gold Team, but Laya’s fire snapped back at the weak attempt to shatter their progression. A small morsel of her flames peeled off the rope and turned on the wind with a mind of their own, shooting boiling embers at the breeze to shunt it backward and send their wind wheeling back to them. Haizea and Anila stumbled from Laya’s force and their own wind slamming into their bodies, losing their balance.

“YES, LAYA!” Suri cheered, fully rested now and bouncing on her toes.

Laya didn’t break her concentration from the rope once. Her forehead crinkled in annoyance when the rope wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t that Laya’s fire wasn’t strong enough, but she was working against a cable that had been soaking in water immersed with Headmistress Dyer’s healing abilities for the entire semester, so forcing the rope to break was intended to be near impossible.

“More, Laya!” Kellen hollered.

I don’t know if I have more, Kell, Laya sobbed, her exhaustion wringing her unsteady voice.

You are Eulaylia Kilic. You’ve suffered through worse and come out on the other side the victor. You are always the one left standing. You can do hard things, my love, because you’ve never not had enough to give.

Laya’s body bucked forward as she spewed more fire and loosed another raw, pained scream, tears sullying her beautiful cheeks. Noella squeezed Kellen’s bicep, her nails jabbing into his skin. From the corner of Kellen’s eye, he saw that the Gold Team’s fire had also reached their rope in spite of Esen’s wind and were beginning to make headway towards breaking through their own cord. Laya’s fire snaked around the rope, her flames licking hungrily at the cable until the once sturdy fibers began to unravel and blacken under the relentless heat, emitting an acrid scent of burning. The crackling of Laya’s fire consuming its prey echoed through the air, integrating with the boisterous crowd.

They were chanting her name. Eulaylia Kilic. Not Ates, but Kilic. Fuck, he’d never been prouder.

Laya’s glowing embers chewed through the remaining strands with a voracious appetite, crafting a fiery gateway that threatened to sever the bond holding it together. The rope, now weakened and frayed, began to sag under the weight of its own demise, the metal poles holding it up in the air trembling. Laya’s flames continued to devour it with fervor, until finally, with a magnificent snap, the rope gave way and fell apart in a shower of violet, red, and orange sparks, peppered with ash.

“Red wins!” Headmistress Dyer declared the moment the rope broke. The Red Team jumped to their feet and bellowed a glorious hail for Eulaylia Kilic, who would go down in history as the first sixth grader to ever win rope burn.

“YES!” Noella cheered, grabbing Kellen’s arm before jumping up and down. “WE WON!”

“THAT’S MY FUCKING GIRL!” Kellen bawled, tears flooding his face.

Laya’s fire triumphantly roared in victory as the once unbreakable rope drooped defeatedly off the sides of the pole, reduced to a pile of smoldering ashes. The three matches took a step back from the pile of logs. Eliane and Adeen pulled their arms back to their sides and closed their fingers inside their fists to hamper the flow of fire. Laya swallowed a mouthful of oxygen and gulped down the rest of her flames, then spluttered a gasp that formed puffs of smoke off her tongue, her hand flattening over her chest. Kellen rushed forward at the same moment she turned and dashed for him, his arms open for her as she leapt off her feet and threw herself at him with a beautiful mix of a laugh and a sob.

“Did that really just happen?!” she cried, grabbing Noella’s hand when Noella reached for her.

“You did so good,” Noella wept. Jarion barreled down the steps of the bleachers and pounced on top of Laya and Kellen, nearly knocking all three of them to the ground from his force.

“That’s my twin sister!” Jarion thundered, all three of them sharing warm laughter. Laya’s tears slipped down Kellen’s neck when she pressed her face into his shoulder and hugged him tighter.

“Are you proud of me, Kellings?” she whispered, cracking his chest wide open.

“I’ve been proud of you since the moment you were born,” Kellen gushed, his fingers threading in her hair to cradle the back of her head as he kissed her temple. He moved to the side so he could cup her cheeks and look her in the eyes when he proclaimed, “You are an exquisite, raging fire that cannot be dimmed, my love.” He removed one hand from Laya to clasp Jarion’s cheek. “You both are. I’m proud every fucking day that the Gods chose me to be your brother. I’ll never not be proud.”

Kellen’s eyes landed on Noella. How’d I do, Rose?

You were perfect, she answered with tears in her eyes. You ARE perfect, Kellen Kilic. I’m so proud to be yours.

With the sound of the crowds intoning Laya’s name and the sunlight splashing over their entangled limbs, Kellen drew his siblings into his arms with the love of his life standing a foot away.