10. Kellian

CHAPTER 10

Kellian

T HE DAY OF THE BALL

"Grandfather, shouldn't Aura be participating in the ritual tonight?" Kellian asked. He wore formal attire, draped in rich blues and greys, golden embroidery feathered along the lines of his sleeves.

"I do not wish to put her safety at risk. She will be with the other humans," Fendiah replied with a stern voice as they walked into the ancient caves beneath the castle. There was no room for argument, but Kellian felt himself bristle at it nonetheless.

"She is as human as I am," Kellian argued, fighting the urge to raise his voice. Aura was no fragile being, having proved her strength over and over, but grandfather insisted on keeping her in a glass cage.

"You," he turned his piercing gaze, meeting Kellian's, "are no human." Fendiah shook his head, greatly disappointed in the disrespect of the sentence alone.

"Nor is Aura. We are Guardians first." Kellian's tone matched his grandfather's, sure and certain. Fendiah nodded, accepting the words of his grandson.

They continued the day of rituals, preparing the hatchling egg. He felt it stir in his hands as the priests chanted. They honored Alleron, the great Dragon god and gave offerings. The day pressed into night, and the land was aglow in a golden fire sky. Deep red and orange painted across it, the gods and goddess themselves greeting the new dragon's arrival. Tonight the new hatchling would be presented to the Hollow in their ancient tradition: a birth by fire.

Kellian stood next to his grandfather Fendiah, in his Dragon form under the deep night sky. The guests, villagers, and hundreds of people in their court were gathered around. Music danced through the gardens, lit lanterns glittering, illuminating the space. It looked like pure magic. Kellian remembered his mother telling him about the royal garden parties. It had been so long since one had been held on the castle grounds like this. It was fitting, of course, as it had been quite a time since the Hollow was blessed with a dragon hatchling. He had noticed Esmie running through the grounds by the flash of her night colored hair and chocolate colored skin, ribbons trailing her as she went. Her wild hair was tamed tonight, undoubtedly by Miss Bells. Guests were chattering loudly, torches lit a pathway to the open lawn, lighting the night around them. Even the sprites were fluttering around, enjoying the festivities.

Kellian tried to steady himself, but was filled with an unease eating through him, even the dragon bristled. He had still not yet laid eyes on Kyeria. Nor his sister. His mind wandered as the festivities slowly moved out to the great lawn. The people of the Hollow ready for the ritual and the honor of bringing the Dragon into their home and land. His eyes scanned the crowd again.

He felt her before he saw her, like lightning striking down—Kyeria was there. A long golden gown adorned her every curve. She was a vision, pure and true and his . He felt it rip through him, a primal feeling to growl out the words ‘mine '.

The Dragon rumbled. The ground shook. Guests began to quiet themselves and gather around the altar, and bells chimed to announce the start of the ritual. The priests and priestesses chanted, surrounding the altar where the Dragon egg laid. Their hoods were up, masking their faces, and their chants had a drug-like effect over the people of the Hollow, only leaving Kellian, his grandfather, and Aura unaffected. Aura was at Kyeria's side in the front now, but Kellian noticed as something snagged Aura's attention in the dark. Unaffected by the hymns, she snuck away. Fendiah grumbled, noticing the act alongside Kellian.

Brushing off his sister's antics, he peered across the castle grounds again, finding the familiar soft eyes of Kyeria's. She was transfixed, as everyone looked to be, though her eyes did not dull like the others, but were shining instead. Her copper-dipped hair glowed in the firelight—she looked like she was being lit up entirely by firelight from within. Kellian felt his heart thrum, deep and true.

With a final clang of bells, Kellian stood his ground, digging his feet solidly into the earth. Fendiah reeled back in dragon form, his dark grey scales nearly black in the night, the firelight only barely gleaming off the edges. It was time. Birth by fire. The egg sat on what could be described as an altar. An old tradition of the Guardians, a golden nest made of steel and iron surrounded by hay that stayed lit. After the hymns faded, silence enveloped the crowd. Only the night surrounded them, the swaying of the trees and the bristling of the leaves.

Fire erupted from Fendiah towards the egg in an exhale, and the priests around the altar started the hymns up again, louder then, and the people began to whisper, "Blessed be to Alleron."

Kellian barely had a moment to see the Dragon erupt from its egg over the flames, deep red and black, glittering scales, because the little Dragon did the impossible. It stopped immediately, and faced the crowd—the very front where Kyeria stood. An unfeasibly large burst of fire erupted from the small Dragon's mouth. In a flash, Kellian's feet loosened from the ground and he was running. He screamed, bellowing out Kyeria's name. The people scattered.

"Kyeria!" His voice felt raw, guttural and filled with pain, his skin was burning, but that was impossible of course, an heir could not burn by Dragonfire. But he felt it, the prickling of fire on his limbs, climbing up his neck. Fear encased him, the blood quickly leaving his face he realized. She was burning. He could smell it then. Charred flesh. And something in him snapped. He had to move faster. The claws and wings turned back into that of a man, the mist surrounding him parted and his bare feet were pounding into the earth as he ran to her. He threw himself in front of her. The flames consumed him fully.

Finally, the pain stopped. He realized it was her pain, her skin burning, and he could feel it like it was his own until he stood between the new Dragon's flame and his woman.

People were screaming around him, he could barely hear over the chaos. A familiar beam of light was shining but Kellian could not place from where, he could only keep himself wrapped around Kyeria's body, shielding her to block the flames. Kellian held Kyeria so tightly, so close that he felt he could barely breathe. But air wafted into his lungs just fine—it was her. He was crushing her, he knew he was crushing her, he had to stop. But the scent of charred skin, the image of her burnt being was etched into his mind. He couldn't tell if it had stopped or if it was a nightmare playing on a loop in his mind. It wasn't until soft hands touched his shoulders.

"Kel." The voice felt millions of miles away.

"Kellian, let the girl go, lest you injure her further." Fendiah's voice boomed, even in his mind. It shook him out of his trance.

Kellian blinked, again and again, taking in the woman before him, limp in his arms. Kyeria's fiery red hair was covered in soot, singed at the ends. Her arms—Kellian eyes scanned her, and he had to hold in a gasp—Kyeria's arms were red, blistering patches of her skin were missing entirely, burned in a way only Dragonfire could. Dragonfire was unlike any other, it was not meant to be and could not be healed like any other wound, and the burns snaked all the way up her chest and neck. His golden eyes closed, his breath coming in gasps. Like the world was closing in on him. He couldn't lose her, he could not lose this woman who had barreled into his life, magic filled and destined. He imagined a world without her in it, a world where she was torn from him, by something as poignant and awful as Dragonfire.

Kellian felt like he was dying. Like someone was ripping out his very soul.

"Please, please, wake up," he gasped, his voice raw and cracking. His hands cupped her cheeks. "Kyeria, open your eyes, love."

"Kel." Again the soft touch. He looked to find Esmeralda. The deep sorrow splayed across her face struck Kellian numbly, all his energy was so focused on the lump and unconscious woman in his arms. He could not spare his worry on Esmeralda. The girl who had become family, who he was meant to protect. Because her skin was unmarred, her gaze was sure and steady. As his should be. She was calm, albeit eyes glassy and face sullen.

"Let me help, Kel. You have to let go." Her voice was soft, sympathetic. Kellian also felt the presence of his sister kneeling next to him, hand on his arm. She was a calming balm to him, as she had always been, one of the only ones to be able to pull Kellian from the brink of panic in the most dire of circumstances. He had reasons to get up, people who relied on him. He had to move, he had to let go—he was crushing her.

"Kellian, let go," Aura said, her voice stern. He released a breath and let go, laying Kyeria on the ground. Esmeralda moved to her quickly and hovered her hands over Kyeria's body, assessing the damage. Her magic glowed in her finger tips, but Kyeria's skin hardly changed, still burned and angry and red.

Esmeralda paused, fear dancing on her brow. He knew she had never seen him like this. He was always strong, always stoic, always sure. He watched her eyes soften even further as she spoke again, "I'm so sorry Kel, I'm not strong enough to heal Dragon fire." She shook her head, her tear-filled eyes now fixed on his.

"That's alright Esmie, let's get her inside the castle, grab your potions and balms. She will heal." Aura commanded everyone around, the bright light was gone now and as the haze of the moment was passing, he realized his sister must have used her light to stun the young dragon. She was moving so fast, a blur of white light seemed to be buzzing around them, directing people quickly and gently. Aura moved with the grace of a royal, she held her head amidst the chaos and a fleeting thought made Kellian wish he could handle hardship the way she did. Head on.

He took in his surroundings, the people had scattered, only few lingered and servants helped any that were harmed. The castle is hard at work to right the wrong. It had been so long since that last ritual of a new dragon, but this was not how it ought to have gone. Fendiah's hand grasped Kellian's shoulder, shaking him from his thoughts and back into reality. But reality was fuzzy, his vision was tunneled, only able to focus on the crumbled and burned girl in his arms. Kellian dragged his stinging eyes up towards Fendiah. He distantly realized he must be crying, his eyesight was glassy. His grandfather's creased brow and age lines bore down at him.

"Are you able to carry the girl?" Fendiah asked. He was offering to help, to carry the physical burden for his grandson, Kellian realized. But nothing could tear Kyeria from his arms at this moment.

Gathering himself and the onslaught of emotions ripping through him, feeling the burns on Kyeria's skin like they were blistering on his own arms, up his chest and neck. He could feel it all. This strange connection was screaming at him deep in his soul. But he rose, legs a heavy weight on his own body. He lifted her, holding her as gently as she could, hoping to not have hurt her further. This was his burden to bear.

"Where is the Dragon?" Kellian growled.

"Your sister was able to stun the youngling, and the priests have moved it back to the caves," Fendiah informed him. Kellian nodded. He couldn't understand why this had happened, why the youngling had thrown fire towards Kyeria, how even it could produce that much fire. But he couldn't solve that mystery tonight.

As Kellian carried Kyeria into the castle, the deep wooden doors felt larger than ever. The light from the candle lit chandeliers blurred with the rest of Kellian's vision, and it was muscle memory that took him back to Kyeria's room.

Aura began fussing as soon as Kellian laid Kyeria on her bed. She called for Miss Bells to fetch tonics, salves, and balms. Esmie was busy making healing potions, and Fendiah was away, attending to the new hatchling.

Kellian couldn't get his limbs to move, he simply sat next to Kyeria, feeling himself sink into the mattress under them. He held onto her hand like if he let go, her lifeline would fade into the ether. Esmie returned, juggling three potions. She tipped each back into Kyeria's mouth, holding it open to do so. Kellian jolted at a gasp that rang through the quiet room but Kyeria's mouth and eyes stayed sealed shut despite the potions. Miss Bells also returned and handed Kellian a new canister, he assumed with more balms to try and ease the burns. They smelled so strongly of pine and mint, it overwhelmed him. He was reminded of when he found her, covered in the scent of the woods.

"Hold this," Miss Bells said, features pinched in focus. Bringing in warm clothes and water, she began cleaning the wounds. Miss Bells had always excelled in healing, not that she possessed the magic, but she was a careful caregiver, who could focus on the injured with such precision. While she was gentle and kind on any given day, the way she handled the room was with a fierce determination. Kellian had always respected this from Miss Bells. She meant business and no one would be getting in her way, He stayed by Kyeria's side through it all, as Miss Bells cleaned each open wound. He forced himself to watch, the ghost of the burns still on his own flesh.

He stayed—even as the girls left, even as the candles burned away, he remained by her side. Hands intertwined.