Fire and Water: Kael's Talisman

Kael wakes up to voices outside his bedroom. It's his mother and father. They're talking in hushed tones about something serious. He gently rolls himself out of bed, the floorboards cold under his bare feet, and crosses to his bedroom door. He presses his ear against it, but his parents' voices are still too quiet to be heard. He decides to risk opening the door, just a crack,

"-Don't want to leave you two. But I can't keep living like this, Cam." His father says. 

"I know it's rough, but it's always been rough." His mother pleads. "You can't just give up now."

"You don't see the way they look at me. I can't even be near you in public half the time."

His mother takes a breath to argue, but she notices his door open. "Oh, Kael honey."

He's been spotted. With a quiet sigh, Kael pushes the door open all the way, so he's now in full view of his parents. His father has a regretful expression, his mother a worried one.

"Are you leaving?" Kael asks. He's heard his father's whispers the whole past week. A strand of hair falls into his face, colored a worried blue tone. His father picks him up and sits on the couch with Kael on his lap. 

"I'll come back someday." He says, by way of answer. Kael, so young and naive, doesn't hear the uncertainty in his voice. "And here, I'll give you something to remember me by."

He pulls his satchel, packed with all sorts of supplies, close to him and digs around until he finds what he's looking for. A journal, lovingly wrapped in leather, his name scrawled at the top. 

"This was a gift from your mother, and now I want you to have it. You can write in it every day, and when I come back, I'll read it and hear all about everything you've done."

Kale smiles, a tiny forced smile, because he doesn't want to seem ungrateful for the gift. As he takes the journal, colorful patterns explode out from his fingertips. His father chuckles, but even to Kael's young ears it sounds hollow. Kael's magic only gets out of control when he's overwhelmed with emotion, and his hair clearly says it's not joy that has caused this outburst.

He holds the journal close to his chest, and presses his body against his father's. 

 

Kael stared at his journal, running his thumb across his father's name at the top, remembering the day it had been given to him. He kept it with him at all times, and it was basically the only belonging that had made it through the portal with him. He glanced at Prince Aeilus, sleeping in his bed across the room. Since he was the reason Kael was trapped here, he'd agreed to help get him home, and they now shared a room at the inn. Kael stared at his sleeping form, no anger or malice left in his body. He'd yelled and screamed in the forsest. He'd expressed his frustration to the prince. Now he just felt tired. He thumbed through the journal pages, as if there would be anything there. He'd never had the courage to write in it, but now was as good a time as any, right? Maybe if he ever ran into his father on his way home, he'd have the most exciting adventure of his life to show him. He sat down at the desk that sat beneath the room's one window and grabbed the feather pen sitting in its inkwell. After only a moment's hesitation, he pressed the pen into the pages of the journal and began writing.