Family

Kael trudged slowly through the desert. Sometimes, he had to catch himself as he almost tripped over his own feet. His mind was in utter turmoil, only a tiny part of his consciousness guiding him towards the lights of the homes ahead.

The rest of his mind was busy trying to process what had just happened. What he had heard.

The voice… the face seemed to have some ability to perceive the future, or at least a vague part of it. In it, Kael was supposed to destroy something. And if he destroyed it, the whole world would suffer.

The world. The thought that Kael could ever do something that would change the entire world was as abstract as teaching a mouse to speak. It just didn't seem possible.

And what was all this talk about a spear and a blood oath? Who was the face, anyway? It wasn't human, that much the voice had made clear. Could it be a divine beast? But Kael had never heard of one that spoke human language. And why on earth would it talk to him?

Kael wasn't even sure if he had really had that conversation. Perhaps he had just spent too long under the heat of the eternal flame that day.

He hoped that was the case. Because if it had happened, and the creature was right, then his actions would harm him too. He would suffer great pain. Betrayal. Death.

A chill ran down his spine as he thought about those words. And then he grew even more nervous when he remembered that he had been mad enough to make an oath with this being!

By Atherion, what had he been thinking! But what other choice had he had? The creature had clearly been about to kill him. It was even prepared to sacrifice itself in the process.

Deep in thought, Kael was suddenly called out from the darkness again.

"Kael!"

Kael instinctively flinched. But this wasn't the voice of the creature in the darkness. This voice sounded worriedly feminine.

"Umm'an?" he called into the night.

Indeed, a second later, a figure emerged from the darkness. She was hard to make out due to the black clothing she wore, but the white circle on the chest of her garment seemed to glow even in this darkness.

Lyla Adar stood before her son, studying him intently. She had expected him to be angry or perhaps sad. But Kael seemed different. He appeared confused, lost in thought, and almost staggering.

"Are you alright?" she asked gently.

Kael recognized his mother's voice. This was the tender mother speaking to him, not the stern Al'Shalin. For a moment, he forgot his worries and embraced his mother. She was initially taken aback, but then gently raised her arms and enveloped him in a warming embrace.

"Yes, Umm'an. I'm fine," Kael said, but he didn't believe his own words. He was anything but fine.

Lyla released Kael and looked him in the eyes. His eyes were dry, not filled with tears, but his hair was disheveled, and he felt cold despite wearing enough clothes.

"What happened, my son? Are you still angry with Safiya?" Lyla asked with concern.

Kael looked up into his mother's face. Angry at Safiya? Why would he be? Then he remembered.

"Oh... the argument. I've already forgotten about it."

That wasn't a lie.

Lyla seemed to scrutinize him from head to toe before saying, "Then something else must have happened."

Her instincts were sharp. It wasn't the first time Kael had had an outburst, but still, his mother sensed something was off.

He almost told her everything. About the voice, the face in the sand, the eerie figures he had seen just before, about his oath. But then he paused. And remained silent.

He wasn't entirely sure why. A part of him feared not being taken seriously again, that it would all be dismissed as a figment of the desert. But he knew it was too important to hide because of such a trivial fear.

Yet, another part of him liked having this secret, being special. He would tell his parents soon, but just for today, for a brief time, he wanted to feel as if he carried a weight of importance that no one else could bear.

He liked that feeling. It felt right.

"Nothing, Umm'an. Let's go home," he finally said and walked ahead of his mother. She watched him for a moment, sighed, and then followed her son through the night.

---

Upon arriving home, Kael glanced briefly at his sister. For a moment, he thought she might have been worried about him. But as soon as she saw that he was okay, her expression quickly returned to neutral.

Kael ignored her—if his mother hadn't mentioned the argument, he really wouldn't have understood why his sister was behaving that way. The argument seemed so distant to him.

He moved upstairs to his small room. It wasn't much: a wooden bed, a small desk with a candle, and a stool that was really just a large stone Kael had once insisted on bringing home.

He lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. Then he noticed something that was also lying in the bed next to him. It was a glass. Kael sat up and examined the object. His eyes widened slightly. It was the glass containing the ashes of Pyrathas.

"Safiya didn't want it downstairs," suddenly a voice came from the direction of Kael's door. He looked up and saw his father leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. His expression was neutral, but Kael knew he disliked it when Kael acted as impulsively as he had today. It didn't fit the martial discipline of his father.

Kael looked at the glass in his hands.

"Why is it here then?" he asked his father.

His father took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Kael saw many emotions in his father's eyes: patience, anger, and pride. And when Kael found not a single bit of pity there, he too was filled with pride.

"I'm giving it to you—it suits you," said his father as he sat down next to Kael.

Kael looked at his father, bewildered by the gesture. Such a valuable item was typically not a gift for children. It was meant for a wife, or for old friends, but not for children. They still had to prove they were worthy of such a gift.

He was about to open his mouth to protest when his father cut him off.

"Let it be, son. Think of it less as a gift, and more that it simply needed a place to stay. Downstairs, Safiya might have eventually thrown it into the fire, and in my room, it felt odd."

"Why odd?" Kael asked, raising his eyebrows skeptically.

His father gave a faint smile. "It didn't fit the decor, you know. It'll look better in here."

Kael looked at his father for a long time. After everything he had experienced today, such a gesture was truly a miracle of the eternal flame itself. He lowered his head.

"Thank you, Ab'an," he whispered.

His father remained silent. Then he raised his hand and tousled Kael's hair so vigorously that Kael almost dropped the glass.

"What's that for!" Kael exclaimed, jumping up from the bed irritably. But then, seeing the loving smile on his father's face, his anger dissipated as quickly as it had come.

His father also stood up, took a step towards his son, placed his hand on the back of Kael's head, and kissed him on the forehead.

"It suits you, Kael Adar," he said, pointing to the glass.

"The ash of the Phoenix is produced when it sacrifices itself. But from it springs true life in Ardoria. And thanks to this life, the Phoenix itself returns. It's a symbol of rebirth, of resurrection."

Ammar moved towards the door and before he stepped out of Kael's room, he looked back at his son.

"I think Safiya wasn't entirely wrong today."

Kael lowered his gaze and suddenly felt gloomy, although he thought he had moved past the topic.

But he hadn't expected his father's next words.

"The fool was right in that you do have one thing. Ash."

Kael blinked in confusion.

Then, slowly, his mouth corners turned upwards. He began to chuckle and then suddenly burst into hearty laughter.

How good that laughter felt. Ammar watched his son for a moment as he doubled over with laughter, then laughed himself and left the room.

Kael laughed for a long while by himself and even as he lay exhausted in bed, he still chuckled a couple more times. And when he finally fell asleep, he hadn't forgotten the oath with the voice, but he felt ready for whatever might come next.

Because for once, he didn't feel so alone in this world.

Back then, he didn't really know what being alone meant.