KBTCM Ch 9: Family Reunited, A Brothers Return!

(Theron)

Theron walked through the massive iron gates of Vaeloria, his boots hitting the stone road with purpose. Behind him, nine men followed in disciplined silence—the brothers he had shed blood and sweat with, the warriors who had endured body-breaking training by his side, all for the sake of protecting the kingdom.

Today was the day of his return, the day he would finally see his family again. He felt a small flicker of excitement, but it was dulled by a lingering unease. There was one person in particular he wasn't exactly eager to face.

As he entered Grelling Row, the air thick with the scent of smoke and unwashed bodies, his sharp blue eyes scanned the run-down wooden houses, the dirt roads strewn with trash, and the people who carried on despite their struggles. Men and women bartered, labored, and scavenged to survive, while children played in the streets, their laughter at odds with their ragged clothing and skinny frames.

"Not much has changed around here," Theron muttered under his breath.

He clenched his jaw. He had always wanted to help these people, to do more than just observe their suffering. Maybe one day, when he had the power to make real change, he would.

Leaving Grelling Row behind, he stepped into the middle-class district, Eldermere, where the air smelled cleaner, and the buildings stood taller and sturdier. Here, merchants and scholars roamed, well-dressed and well-fed, discussing trade deals and philosophical debates with ease. It was a stark contrast to the desperation of the lower district, but it still paled in comparison to what lay ahead.

As Theron moved into the Noble District, the streets became pristine, the buildings ornate and extravagant. Servants bustled about, attending to the well-groomed aristocrats who strolled leisurely, their silken robes flowing behind them. He exchanged brief nods with a few nobles who recognized him, but his focus remained ahead—on the castle that loomed over all of Vaeloria, a towering symbol of power and authority.

He exhaled sharply. "Well, I better get this over with," he muttered.

At the castle's grand entrance, the massive doors stood closed, as imposing as ever. He turned to his men, his brothers-in-arms, and clasped each of their forearms in farewell. "Rest well, all of you. You've earned it."

The men nodded in respect, their silent promise to always be ready should duty call.

Turning to the right, Theron approached a much smaller door, nearly hidden within the castle wall. With a few quick knocks, the door swung open, revealing the ever-dutiful palace butler, Harris.

"Prince Theron!" Harris said, his face lighting up. "What a pleasure it is to see you again. Your parents and sisters will be overjoyed by your return."

"I bet they would," Theron replied with an awkward smile, stepping inside.

As they walked along the red carpeted halls, Harris spoke of kingdom affairs—the latest trade routes, upcoming diplomatic meetings, minor disputes among the noble families—but to Theron, it was nothing more than background noise. His mind was elsewhere. He had spent so much time training, sharpening his skills, that the idea of returning to palace life felt... strange. The only thing he truly looked forward to was resuming his training with the sword.

Then, the ground trembled. A deep, rhythmic shaking, like the heartbeat of a giant.

Theron stopped in his tracks, already knowing what—or rather, who—it was.

He looked ahead, toward the right side of the palace, and before he could stop himself, a smile crept onto his face.

There she was.

Rowena turned the corner, her towering frame nearly brushing against the ceiling. Her crimson hair, now longer than he remembered, cascaded down her back in thick waves. Her sharp golden eyes were locked onto the book in her hands, her expression focused. Even now, she was multitasking—reading while walking, just as disciplined as ever. It was just like her.

"Rowena," Theron called, his grin widening.

The instant her name left his lips, her ears twitched slightly, picking up his voice with ease. Her eyes darted down, scanning the ground until they landed on him. A flicker of surprise crossed her face before it was replaced with sheer joy.

"Theron!" she shouted, her book forgotten as she bent down with alarming speed.

Before he could brace himself, she scooped him up, pressing him against her warm cheek in a firm yet affectionate hug. A loud smacking sound filled the hall as she placed a kiss on the top of his head, her massive lips completely engulfing it.

Theron groaned, wiping his damp hair with a grimace. "Ugh, Rowena, come on—"

"I want to know everything," she cut him off, holding him up in her hands, her golden eyes alight with excitement. "How was training? Did you learn anything new? Did you fight anyone interesting? You better not leave anything out."

Theron chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, alright, calm down. Let me at least breathe first."

Rowena wasted no time. She spun around, making a beeline for the kitchen. Theron braced himself as the palace shook beneath her eager footsteps.

Inside, King Allaric and Queen Aelira were already seated. The moment Rowena entered, their eyes widened.

"My son," Aelira breathed, standing to her full, towering height.

Allaric rose from his seat with a grin. "Theron!"

Theron barely had a second to react before his mother, like Rowena, plucked him from his sister's hands and into her own. He was pulled into another crushing hug, Aelira's warm embrace making him feel small in a way that only his mother could.

"My boy," she murmured, pressing a gentle—yet still overwhelmingly large—kiss onto his head.

Allaric clapped his son's shoulder once his wife finally (and reluctantly) let him go. "It's good to have you home, son."

Theron smiled. "It's good to be back."

Before they could settle into conversation, the door creaked open again.

A figure stepped inside—blonde hair messy, a loose white shirt and black pants torn at the knee.

Sylara.

Theron's smile disappeared instantly. His once warm expression turned sharp, his jaw tightening as he eyed his younger sister.

"Hello, Sylara," he said coolly, a smirk tugging at his lips—one that barely masked the irritation laced in his tone.

Sylara, who had been looking at the table, snapped her gaze toward him. Her tired blue eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, she was still. Then, slowly, her lips curled into a familiar smirk.

"Theron..." she said, her voice filled with amusement. "Welcome home, big brother. Welcome home."