Bryan's Arc

Chapter 21 of 21

The head judge's note still sat in Bryan's palm when the great doors opened a second time. Two clerks wheeled in a tall wooden case and set it before the table. Inside was Bryan's miniature, lit from within like a small red sun. The head judge cracked open the official record and turned it toward Bryan. A blank line waited under the Golden Demon entry. He held out a pen and told Bryan to sign his own name. Bryan reached for it. A side door creaked. His mentor stepped into the hall, brushes in his coat pocket, and said the piece was his. The clerks rolled in a wide whiteboard and set it beside the case. On one side hung the original sketch Bryan had drawn a year ago. On the other hung his mentor's copy, made from the hidden tree. Both bore the same swirls, the same wound-bright reds. The judges leaned in close. Bryan pulled out his dated photos and laid them along the rail. His mentor's hand shook as he tried to do the same, but his folder was thin. The head judge tapped the older photos. He drew a clean line through the mentor's claim. Two guards stepped from the columns and took the mentor by the arms. The brushes fell from his coat and rolled across the stone floor. Bryan signed his name on the blank line. The ink soaked deep into the page. The head judge stamped the Golden Demon seal beside it and turned the case so the hall could see. The red armor glowed under the lamps, alive, the way Bryan had always wanted. The twelve painters clapped once, together, and the sound filled the courthouse like a closing door. Outside, Bryan stood on the stone steps under the blood red gem above the entrance. His phone buzzed with messages, but he did not open the old screenshot. He did not need it tonight. He held the case against his chest and walked down into the quiet street, a Golden Demon winner at last, under his own name. A small wooden platform waited at the bottom of the steps, its mushroom railings glowing soft in the dark. Bryan set the case on the planks and looked at the red armor one last time. It burned steady and warm. He breathed out. The long road was done. He picked up the case, stepped off the platform, and went home.