The Elementiels

Later that evening, the grand dining hall of the castle was illuminated by the warm glow of golden chandeliers. The long, ornate table was adorned with a feast fit for royalty, the aroma of roasted meats and freshly baked bread filling the air. King Arthur entered the room, his steps measured yet relaxed. He took his seat at the head of the table, a content smile gracing his face.

"My, my," he said, surveying the spread before him. "What a delightful treat we have tonight."

The maids standing nearby exchanged shy smiles, bowing their heads in unison. "Thank you, Your Majesty," they said, their voices soft with gratitude.

The king's eyes twinkled with warmth as he looked at them. "Bless you all for your hard work. Your dedication does not go unnoticed."

The maids blushed at the unexpected praise, curtsying quickly before retreating from the room. As the door creaked open, Princess Emily stepped inside, her presence commanding the quiet elegance of the hall as she made her way to her seat.

"Welcome, Your Highness," the maids greeted her before quietly exiting, leaving the father and daughter alone in the vast hall.

King Arthur studied his daughter as she settled into her chair. Her expression was calm, but there was a subtle weight in her demeanor that caught his attention. "So," he began casually, his voice gentle, "how was your conversation with young Jason?"

Emily hesitated, her fingers brushing over the silverware beside her plate. "It was… fine, Dad."

The king raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharpening slightly. "Are you certain, my love? You seem… preoccupied."

Emily offered him a faint smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Don't worry, I'm alright," she assured him, her voice softer now.

The king studied her for a moment longer before nodding. "If you say so, my dear."

They ate in companionable silence for a while, the occasional clink of silverware was the only sound between them. But the king's thoughts lingered on Jason, and he couldn't help but speak again. "His grandfather," he said thoughtfully, "is truly a man of great humility and heart. And as for Jason… he is certainly a fine young man. Handsome, too, wouldn't you agree?"

Emily, caught off guard, felt a rush of heat rise to her cheeks. She cleared her throat and glanced down at her plate. "Well… yes, I suppose he is. So what?"

The king laughed heartily, the sound echoing through the hall. "Hahaha! Nothing, nothing at all. I'm just impressed, that's all. And the fact that they're bakers? Truly remarkable. You must try one of their treats—they're simply divine."

He reached for a small plate of cookies nearby, plucking one and offering it to her. Emily hesitated, eyeing the cookie as though it were a puzzle she wasn't sure she wanted to solve. After a moment, she took it, her delicate fingers brushing against her father's hand.

She bit into the cookie tentatively, and her expression shifted almost immediately. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted slightly in surprise. "This is… actually quite good," she admitted, her voice tinged with genuine astonishment.

"I told you, didn't I?" the king said with a triumphant grin. "Their pastries are extraordinary. I honestly wouldn't mind having them visit again—just for more of these!"

But Emily barely heard him. As she chewed, the taste lingered on her tongue, rich and comforting, yet tinged with something deeper. Her thoughts drifted back to Jason's words from earlier that day—about the joy he found in making others smile, about the heart he poured into his craft. A bittersweet feeling crept into her chest, and she lowered the cookie, her expression clouded.

"So this… is what you meant," she murmured, almost to herself.

The king tilted his head, his jovial expression fading into one of curiosity. "What was that, dear?"

Emily shook her head quickly, brushing away the moment. "Nothing, Dad," she said, rising from her seat and dabbing her mouth with a napkin. "I think I'll return to my room now. Thank you for the meal."

The king watched her as she walked toward the door, her steps quieter than usual, her shoulders slightly hunched. There was a distance in her that he hadn't noticed before, and it tugged at his heart.

"Goodnight, my love," he called after her, but she didn't turn around. The door closed softly behind her, leaving him alone in the vast dining hall.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, his gaze falling to the empty space where his daughter had sat moments before. He let out a quiet sigh, his fingers lightly drumming against the table. "I wish… we could spend more time together. Like we used to."

The flickering candlelight danced across his face, highlighting the hint of sadness in his eyes. For a moment, the grandeur of the royal dining hall felt hollow, its silence heavier than ever before.

A week later, the midday sun beat down on the empty field, its rays reflecting off the beads of sweat trailing down Jason's brow. He stood amidst the tall grass, breathing heavily, his fists clenched tightly as flames danced along his arms. Across the field, Grandpa Mark and James observed him intently.

James crossed his arms, still in disbelief at what he was witnessing. "I still can't wrap my head around this. Jason—an elementiel? I mean, what's next? Flying pigs?!"

Grandpa Mark chuckled softly, stroking his beard. "I understand, James. It's a lot to take in. But you'd best get used to it."

Jason focused his energy, the flames around him intensifying. With a steady breath, he twisted his body, manipulating the fire with precision. The flames swirled like a fiery cyclone before he thrust his palms skyward, sending a massive column of fire into the air. It burned brilliantly against the blue sky before dissipating into wisps of smoke.

James's mouth hung open. "Okay, that was cool."

Jason wiped the sweat from his brow as he approached them, his expression a mix of determination and exhaustion. "How was that, Grandpa?"

"Incredible, kiddo!" Grandpa Mark said with a proud grin. "You're improving, no doubt about that. But," he added, his tone shifting to one of gentle caution, "you still need to work on controlling your energy. You're putting out too much at once."

Jason frowned, his hands balling into fists. "Really? I thought I had it this time!"

James, still marveling at the display, stepped forward. "Jason… how does it feel? You know, having all that power coursing through you?"

Jason glanced down at his hands, the faint glow of embers still fading from his fingertips. "It's… intense. Like there's a storm inside me. At first, it was overwhelming, but now… I guess I've learned to live with it."

"Oh, I see." James nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I've got chores to finish. Those vegetables won't plant themselves," he said with a shrug, waving as he walked off. "Don't overdo it, okay?"

"Take care, James," Grandpa Mark called after him.

Jason returned to his training, the fire once again springing to life in his hands. He threw punch after punch, each one sending bursts of flames outward. Grandpa Mark watched silently for a while before speaking. "Jason, I think that's enough for today. You've pushed yourself hard enough."

Jason didn't stop. "Not yet, Grandpa. I need more practice."

"There's no need to overwork yourself, kiddo. You'll burn out—"

Jason whirled around, his voice sharp and tinged with anger. "Of course I have to push myself! How else can I protect the people I care about? How else can I make sure no one else dies because I wasn't strong enough?!"

Grandpa Mark's expression softened, the weight of guilt evident in his eyes.

Jason looked away, his jaw tightening. "To be honest, a part of me still hasn't forgiven you, Grandpa. You knew about my powers all along, and you didn't tell me. If I'd known—if I'd trained—then maybe… maybe Stacey would still be alive."

The name hung in the air like a heavy stone, and Grandpa Mark's shoulders slumped. "Jason, I—"

"No!" Jason cut him off, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "It doesn't matter anymore. I can't change the past." He pauses for a moment then continues "I have godlike powers now."

"I have no excuse… to let people down."

He turned back to his training, flames igniting once more. Grandpa Mark sat down on the ground, his face etched with regret as memories of Stacey's bright smile flashed through his mind. "You're right, Jason," he murmured. "I only wish… I'd done better by you."

The sound of Jason's strikes against the air filled the silence until a distant, faint noise made him pause. He straightened, his head tilting slightly.

"What… was that?" Jason said, his voice low.

Grandpa Mark noticed the sudden tension in him. "What's wrong, Jason?"

Jason's eyes narrowed as the noise grew louder, morphing into unmistakable screams. He clutched his head, dropping to his knees as the voices filled his ears. "The screams… they're everywhere! I can't… I can't tell where they're coming from!"

Grandpa Mark rushed to his side, gripping his shoulder. "Jason! What is it? What are you hearing?!"

Jason's eyes snapped open, his expression a mix of urgency and alarm. Without another word, he shot to his feet and bolted southward, fire trailing behind him as he sprinted at full speed.

"Jason! Wait!" Grandpa Mark called after him, but the boy was already a blur in the distance.

At the southern region, knights in bloodied armor fought desperately against a horde of massive dragons, their roars echoing across the battlefield. The beasts circled above, their talons slicing through the air as they swooped down on the remaining warriors. Many knights lay motionless on the ground, their bodies strewn amidst shattered shields and broken swords.

"Hold the line! Stay together!" the commander bellowed, his voice strained as he swung his blade at a dragon's snapping jaws.

Nearby, Adam stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the lifeless bodies of seasoned knights. His hands trembled as he gripped his sword, unable to move.

Beside him, Cynthia clung to his arm, her face pale and streaked with tears. "Adam…" she whispered, her voice quivering. "What… what do we do?"

Adam clenched his teeth, his mind racing as he tried to process the horror before him. "How… how did this happen?!!" he thought, despair tightening its grip around his chest.