A glimpse of Bronte's Childhood

Chapter Three

Digging out his pink crystal, Bronte channeled a bit more energy to float his father higher, so he could find the facet he needed. He held it up to the light with one hand, clutching Arthur's wrist with the other and leaving his father resting precariously on both Arthur's and his shoulders as they lept out of the human world. Bronte shrouded Arthur and his dad in concentration, leaving a bit for himself as the light passed through them with what could well be for any of them the last time. Fortunately, Bronte was able to open his eyes and find himself kneeling on the ground by the stage, where everyone turned to look at the party of three that had just appeared.

Shouts rang out, and Bronte searched through the crowd until he found the worried face of the Elvin physician, Vespera. 

"Help!" He cried as loud as he could muster, and she sprang forward to seize his father. Only then did Bronte realize the condition of the human boy who'd helped him get the man to safety. Arthur's skin was a ghostly pale, and he looked like he was barely holding on as he gripped Bronte's hand and murmured,

"At least I'll have the adventure to boast about..."

Then he slipped away.

The next few days were a blur of anguish and endless waiting, pacing, and watching the two unconscious patients in the Healing Center. Vespera was her usual sharp self, though she softened at Bronte's genuine worry for both. But finally on the third day, when Bronte rushed to the center, he was greeted by a smiling Arthur, sitting on the bed and waving at him.

"Hi, Bronte!" He called, and Bronte momentarily forgot his previous awkwardness with the exuberant kid. He rushed over and scooped him in a hug, which seemed to surprise Arthur, but he grinned again when they pulled out.

"Arthur, I was so worried! The way you were so pale, I was so scared..."

He trailed off as he noticed the empty cot next to Arthur.

"Where's my father?" He demanded, an intensity in his eyes as he glared at Vespera. 

"Oh, don't worry, he's alive and well!" She consoled. "He just couldn't stand another day doing nothing, you see. And he said to tell you he's very proud of you and exceedingly grateful."

Bronte breathed a sigh of relief. That did sound like his father, now that he thought of it. Strange that he hadn't guessed earlier. 

Bronte stayed the rest of the morning to talk to Arthur, explain what had happened, and chat a little. He considered them friends, now, kind of. And when he finally said goodbye to Arthur in the afternoon, and in the Human Cities right where he'd found him, Arthur definitely seemed on board.  

So he lept back with a smile, and arriving home to see his parents waiting for him, ready to lecture just felt like another adventure.