Familiar Fire

Chapter Thirteen

That's the problem with the world. There is always an opposite. Where there is light, there has to be dark. Where there is good, there has to be evil. And most unfortunate of all, where there is life, there has to be death. It's the cruel way the world works. You don't get to pick and choose, you get a little of everything and have to hold on for the ride.

Even though Aurora still had her life, not everyone was as lucky. Countless lives were lost through the battle, especially one close friend of the redhead. She sat next to Hawk's charred body, hoping that he too would come back. That the coin-flip between life and death ended in his favor. However, with every second that passed, it seemed less and less possible. But that's life. It's so fair that it seems unfair.

As she held onto Hawk's body, she felt it slowly, piece by piece, blow away in the wind. She cried, realizing she would never see him again. She felt like she hardly had the chance to get to know him before he was gone. Ban sat beside her, crying as well. Before she knew it, however, there was a tiny pink pig looking up at her. Aurora didn't have to lose another person she cared about, not today at least. The world felt surreal. Over time, Aurora had gotten so used to death, she had forgotten there was another side of the coin. She forgot that there was life, despite how short it was for those around her. And even though she had just fought in a battle and the seal could be opened at any time, all was well. At least for today.

Aurora was brought up to the castle shortly after to recover, despite her protests. She wanted nothing more than to go out and live her life again. After being frozen in ice all of those years and then waking up without her memories, she needed to feel like herself again. Luckily for her, a big part of herself is not taking orders from people and sneaking out when necessary.

Once the moon was high in the sky and the hall outside the hospital room was silent, Aurora quietly made her way over to the window. The cool night's breeze rushed through her hair, instantly filling her with a sense of freedom. She stepped up onto the windowsill and carelessly fell backward out of it, letting her wings erupt from her back and catch her right before she hit the ground. She soared through the air, taking in everything around her. The night air that danced effortlessly through her hair, the stars that shined above her, the crickets chirping as if there wasn't a war here just a few hours prior.

She flew back towards her house, the one that appeared to be in severe disrepair. The house was reduced to nothing more than a large pile of rubble. She gently landed on what remained of the front doorstep, tearing one of the feathers off of her wings before letting them disappear. The stone beneath her feet appeared to be severely damaged, containing multiple cracks and holes. Now that Aurora remembered everything, she knew the house was always like this. It never fell apart, it was built to look like it had.

Aurora knelt down on the stone and took off both of her necklaces. She placed them in their individual holes in the stone and placed the feather in one of the cracks. The ground began to rumble as if there were an earthquake that had suddenly started. A large burst of light exploded from the doorstep and expanded to cover a mile radius of the house. It kept people from being able to wander in or see what the house was about to become. The small, broken house disappeared, and in its place sprouted up large stone walls and pillars. Just a few moments later, Aurora was looking at her castle. She stood at the front gate of the wall.

The gate slowly opened, as if knowing who she was. She walked forward and it shut behind her. Her eyes gazed around the large garden around her. She hadn't been here in years but nothing had changed. It was identical to how it was the last time she had been here. She missed it. She continued through the beautiful garden towards the front door of her castle. Even though years have passed, not a single weed littered the flowerbeds.