The Elementiels

They finally arrived at the bakery. Grandpa Mark glanced at Jason, his brow furrowed with concern. "How about dinner? I'll whip up your favorite soup."

Jason shook his head, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Thanks, Grandpa, but… I need some time to myself. I'll be in my room."

Without waiting for a reply, he trudged upstairs, his footsteps slow and deliberate. Grandpa Mark watched him disappear, a sigh escaping his lips. He shuffled toward the kitchen, the clatter of pots and pans a faint comfort as he tried to make sense of the day's events.

Upstairs, Jason sat on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands. The quiet of his room did little to silence the echoes of screams and the weight of lives lost. The faces of those he couldn't save swam in his mind.

Minutes stretched into an hour before he finally forced himself to stand. He needed air—or maybe distraction. Anything to pull him from the spiral of regret.

When he descended the stairs, however, he froze. The bakery was filled with people, their presence a hum of energy that jolted him from his thoughts. "What… what's going on?" Jason asked, his voice thick with confusion.

From the crowd, Miss Claire stepped forward, her expression a mixture of warmth and sorrow. She enveloped him in a hug and said "We know, Jason. We know what you did today. You saved us. If it weren't for you, most of us wouldn't be here."

Jason stiffened, his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides. "But… people died." He whispered, his throat tightening. "I couldn't save everyone."

Boris, a towering figure with a rough demeanor but kind eyes, approached and rested a heavy hand on Jason's shoulder. "Aye, that's true, lad. But no one could have. What matters is that you stood tall when we needed you most. You gave everything you had, and we're all here because of that."

Jason's gaze dropped, his hands clenching into fists. The murmurs of agreement from the crowd only deepened the ache in his chest.

He walked outside the door and found more people gathered, his face filled with shocked by the numbers.

Before he could say a word, a young woman came out of the crowd, holding the hand of a small girl. Her eyes found Jason, brimming with tears.

"You saved my daughter!" She said, her voice breaking. "When the building came down, you pulled her out. I'll never forget that, Jason. Never."

The little girl let go of her mother's hand and walked up to him. Without a word, she wrapped her small arms around his waist. Jason hesitated, overwhelmed, but eventually bent down and hugged her back. A small, uncertain smile broke across his face as the crowd erupted into applause.

"Thank you." Jason said, his voice hoarse but filled with conviction. He looked out at the faces of his neighbors, his friends, the people he'd fought to protect. "I mean it. I'm grateful. I promise… I'll become stronger, for you all!"

Boris stepped forward, his voice booming as he raised his arm. "Our kingdom may be battered. Some of our loved ones are gone, and the scars of today will remain. But we are Camelot! We rebuild! We endure! We overcome!!!"

A cheer rose from the crowd, a symphony of resilience and hope. Jason stood, stunned, as the townspeople lifted him onto their shoulders. He laughed, a sound that felt foreign yet freeing.

"To the bar!" Boris declared, his voice carrying over the cheers.

Grandpa Mark cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, "Hey! Take it easy with him, Boris!"

"Don't worry pa!" Boris shot back with a grin. "We'll bring him back in one piece!"

Grandpa Mark chuckled, shaking his head as he watched them disappear down the street. But his smile faded when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Miss Claire, her expression grave.

"Mark," she said quietly. "We need to talk."

He nodded. "Right, right. I suppose I've got a lot to answer for."

Together, they walked back into the bakery, the door swinging shut behind them as the sounds of celebration faded into the distance.

The next morning, Jason and Grandpa Mark moved about the shop, preparing for their visit to the castle. Mark carefully packed a wicker basket brimming with cakes, cookies, and other baked goods, his hands moving with practiced precision. 

Jason watched, amused. "Wow, Grandpa, you really went all out. That's a lot of sweets."

Mark chuckled, a twinkle in his eye. "Of course, kiddo! We're meeting the King, after all. Gratitude deserves to be shown properly, and there's no better way than with a taste of Marquoid's finest."

Jason laughed, shaking his head. "You're something else."

Just as they finished their preparations, a polished royal carriage pulled up outside the bakery. The horses' hooves clattered against the cobblestone as the royal crest gleamed in the morning light. A knight stepped down, his polished armor catching the sunlight, and opened the door with a respectful bow.

"Mr. Marquoid. Jason Marquoid," the knight said in a deep, steady voice. "His Majesty is expecting you."

"Well, this is… unexpected," Jason said, unable to hide his astonishment.

Mark gave Jason a small grin. "Better not keep royalty waiting, kiddo."

The two climbed into the carriage, the interior lined with velvet cushions and fine embroidery. As the carriage rolled toward the castle, Jason stared out of the window, watching the town slowly transform into the grandeur of the royal grounds. When they reached the gates, the massive iron barriers creaked open, revealing the sprawling castle courtyard. Jason's eyes widened at the sight of towering spires, manicured gardens, and banners bearing the royal crest.

As they stepped out of the carriage, the King himself approached, flanked by a retinue of knights. His kind smile setting them at ease.

"Welcome, welcome!" the King said, extending his hands in greeting. "I'm glad you could make it."

Jason and Mark both bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Your Majesty." they said in unison.

"Come now," the King said warmly, gesturing for them to follow. "Let's not linger in the courtyard. We have much to discuss."

Jason followed close behind, marveling at the intricate beauty of the castle's interior—the stained glass windows casting vibrant patterns on the stone walls, the opulent chandeliers, and the marble floors that seemed to stretch endlessly. "Amazing." He whispered.

The King glanced back, catching Jason's awestruck expression. He smiled knowingly. "Jason," he said, stopping in the grand hall, "I'll need to speak with your grandfather privately for a while."

Jason nodded, though curiosity tugged at him. "Of course. I don't mind."

Mark patted Jason on the shoulder. "Don't worry, kiddo. It shouldn't take long."

The King's expression softened as he turned to Jason. "In the meantime, why don't you meet my daughter, Princess Emily. She's in the garden, painting. I think you two would get along."

Jason's face turned a shade of pink, and he stammered, "T-The princess? I'd… love to meet her."

"Excellent!" The King said with a grin. He motioned to a nearby maid. "Please show Jason to the gardens."

The maid curtsied and gestured for Jason to follow. As they walked through the castle halls, Jason's mind raced. "I'm about to meet the princess?  I've heard stories about her grace and beauty, but I've never imagined crossing paths with her."

When they finally stepped into the gardens, Jason's breath caught in his throat. The vibrant colors of blooming flowers stretched as far as the eye could see, butterflies flitting gracefully among them. A soft melody of birdsong filled the air. Under the shade of a grand oak tree, surrounded by maids arranging paints and canvases, was the princess.

She sat on a small stool, her golden blonde hair, styled in intricate braids. She has bright, blue eyes and a warm, gentle expression. She wears a charming, pink off-the-shoulder dress with puffed sleeves, adorned with white accents, a bow at the chest, and delicate lace details on the hemline. Her matching pink shoes with floral embellishments complete the look, further enhancing her poised and graceful demeanor.

Her eyes were sharp as she focused intently on her work. Her brush glided across the canvas with precision, capturing the serenity of the sky and clouds above. Jason found himself frozen, his heart skipping a beat. "She's… amazing."

Summoning his courage, Jason stepped forward and bowed deeply. "Good morning, Your Highness. My name is—"

"Jason Marquoid." She interrupted, not looking up from her painting. Her voice was soft but confident. "I know who you are. My father has spoken of you—our kingdom's hero, the one who faced the mighty dragon and saved us all."

Jason straightened, surprised. "Y-Yes, that's me." He said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

She set her brush down, tilting her head slightly as she regarded him. "I've heard stories about the elementiels, but I've never seen one in person."

Jason let out a nervous laugh. "Neither had I… until I found out I was one."

At that, she turned to fully face him, her eyes studying him with curiosity. "You're… younger than I expected." She said thoughtfully.

Jason blinked. "Woah, really? I suppose you were expecting a huge, strong man."

Rising from her stool, she removed her gloves, revealing her delicate hands. She approached him, her gaze unwavering. "Walk with me."

Jason nodded, feeling a warmth rise to his cheeks. "O-Okay."

They began strolling through the garden, the world around them quiet for the rustling leaves and chirping birds. Jason glanced at her, still amazed by her poise.