The faint glow of lantern light drifted through the window of Chesed's home. He didn't have his own place for he was unmarried, so the young man lived with his parents.
Knock.
Knock.
Chesed gave a simple knock on the door and waited. A man looked through the peephole- and quickly opened. "Chesed!" He exclaimed- paused in the doorway. "I heard the news, you're finally back! Took a while to come home, eh? How are you, son!" It was Robald Soka, Chesed's Father.
Robald quickly extended his arms for a hug- and embraced his child. From further inside the house were voices that echoed out- indistinguishable from the doorway however. After the hug broke off- he moved to the side, extending his arm to welcome his son in. "Come in already, everyone misses you."
Chesed stepped in- bow and quiver in hand, and took in the sight of his parents' home: simple tapestries on rough-hewn walls, a low cot piled with blankets, and a small chest where his mother kept her sewing. Many emotions, and intense exhaustion tugged at him, but he forced a smile. He was home.
He set his gear down gently and stepped into the corridor. Voices, his mother's gentle words, his younger brothers' boisterous voices, all reaching him. Chesed allowed himself a moment to breathe before he followed the sound, to the familiar warmth of family life.
The home was cozy- not small, yet still had a well lived in, warm familial feeling to it. Steam flew up from clay bowls of vegetable stew, which caused his little sister Riko, merely four, to exclaim, "Water Vapor!" And the scent of fresh bread mingled with spiced meat flowed throughout as well. At the head of the long wooden table Robald Soka took his suit, his broad shoulders draped in a dark-red tunic embroidered with the family crest.
The crest was extremely recognizable, three fingers flared up, the pointer finger and thumb meeting. An 'ok hand'.
To his right, Chesed's mother, Ronika Soka was pouring tea for everyone, her silver-threaded braid swinging as she moved.
Seventeen-year‑old Chesed Soka settled into the bench beside his father with a quiet exhale. Across from him, Din, fourteen, and Ten-year-old Oka chattered about their lessons at the bowman academy to him. Eight-year-old Riko practically vibrated in her seat, eyes wide as she watched every action from Chesed.
Robald cleared his throat. "It's rare to have you home," His voice was gentle, caring, "Your last mission kept you away a fortnight." The comment caused little Riko to exclaim, "Plantation!"
Chesed offered a small bow of his head. "Border recon, Father. No survivors but me and Maedyn." He paused at the flicker of worry on Ronika's face, then added, "We gathered all the intel. The mission succeeded."
Ronika set a cup of tea before Chesed. "You're safe, and that is what matters. But… a month of restriction? Is the Sovereign's judgment fair? We heard all about it- how you came back without any of your teammates. I didn't even realize Maedyn survived until you told me." She lifted her dark eyes to Robald.
Chesed took a slow sip of tea, contemplating his mothers question. It was clear to him that he was being targetted- the Soka clan always is. Yet he wasn't sure how to think of it, speak of it, act upon it. He answered honestly, "I don't even know what to do. I don't want to be part of any conflict. All I can do is train and be ready."
Ronika gave a small nod, staring at her sons eyes. "Nobody knows. But one truth always remains. Only by being strong can we shape our own destiny."
She abruptly changed topics- looking over at Din. "Your practice session with the wooden bow?"
Din's shoulders straightened. "I managed a clean grouping at twenty paces today—three in the bull's‑eye." He beamed.
Big giggled. "Little Brother still misses half the time!"
Din scowled playfully. "I'll get better."
Oka leaned forward. "Chesed, teach me tomorrow? Show me how you do that thing with the arrow—the one that flares white?"
Chesed inclined his head. "Tomorrow, then. After your lessons." He caught his mother's eye and gave a wry smile.
Ronika shook her head, smiling. "That's his excuse to spend time with you. Say, Chesed, have you found a… girlfriend yet?"
He choked on his stew. Riko tittered. Din elbowed him. Chesed's ears warmed. "Mother!"
Ronika sipped her tea serenely. "I ask for the clan's future."
Robald rumbled with laughter. "Let him be, Ronika." He turned back to Chesed. "You make a lot of money as a proper adventurer, I know you could more than afford to start a family right now.."
Chesed allowed himself a grin. The moment of levity eased the tension in his shoulders. After losing his team- family life could make him feel a bit better. He could suppress such sadness- sure, but something like this… could slowly erode the dark feeling in his soul.
–––
After dinner, the children cleared the table while Robald and Ronika retired to discuss clan affairs. Chesed guided Oka into Clan's training field, "You're lucky," Chesed noted- knowing that his little brother had been in bowman school. "Most kids don't get into bowman school until they're twelve or older."
Oka's grin was feral. "I know. I worked for it." He hefted a youth‑sized bow, scarred from practice, and notched an arrow. "Show me a Soka trick."
Chesed raised his right hand in the familiar 'Ok Hand', index to thumb, three fingers splayed, and placed it before his eye. A faint glow pulsed where his skin met moonlight. "Okhen," he whispered. The world sharpened, going into that familiar state where he could see beyond what was normal.
Oka's breath caught. "How does it look?"
Chesed replied instantly, "You know, you've been told by others." Regardless, he let out a sigh and still answered, "It is like normal sight- but the traces of various energies are seen as well. You can see through objects as well. Recent motion, heat, energy, you see it all. Now draw." He demonstrated a smooth pull, channeling his clan's lineage energy into the shaft. The air hummed. He released: the arrow sang, trailing white motes, and struck the furthest target dead center.
Oka's jaw dropped. "Teach me."
Chesed let the glow fade and settled into a low stance. "First: energy. Everyone's born with a spark—weak, almost invisible, used for the most basic of basic abilities. Training can let you go beyond that spark and unlock your First Job energy."
He gestured to the carved posts. "At First Job—you're a proper fighter. You learn to shape energy into basic skills: Arrow Blow, Double Jump, so forth. At Second Job—experienced— and you'll form stronger, better skills. Third Job… expert. Fourth Job… master. Each stage unlocks a different energy signature, distinct from the last."
Oka thought for a bit, then asked, "I only have that spark right now?"
"You do," Chesed confirmed. "Academy gives you the basics. You should know this already. But clan blood adds a twist—Okhen, lineage skills. You'll learn to weave both." He tapped Oka's shoulder. "Your turn."
Oka raised the bow. He drew, knuckles white. The arrow twanged. It flew—and smacked into the second‑closest log, splitting the wood. Better than half his class could do on their first try.
"Good," Chesed praised. "Now focus: feel your energy. Not the breath. The pulse beneath." He placed a guiding hand on Oka's back. "Breathe in… and draw that spark into the arrow."
Oka winced, energy pooling at his fingertips. The arrowhead glowed pale white. He released—and the bolt leapt, drilling into the center of the furthest target, shards of wood spraying outward.
Oka whooped, dropping to his knees in excitement. "I did it!"
Chesed ruffled his hair. "That's our lineage. Our Soka bloodline."
Riko's voice drifted from the open door: "Oka, Ma's calling ya in!"
He hopped off his knees. "Coming!" He bounded inside, heart still pounding.
Chesed watched him go, then allowed himself a breath. The little squirt must know all this already, he just wanted to spend time with him.
–––
A few hours later, long after the younger children had been sent to bed, Chesed slipped through the quiet streets of Leyfeyr toward Maedyn's lodging.
Maedyn's door opened before he reached it- somehow, someway, she knew he was coming. Maybe she was already looking out the window. She stood in the frame, her dark hair plastered to one side of a pale, bruised face. Her left arm hung in a sling; every shift made her wince.
"Chesed," she greeted, slowly. "Come in."
He stepped inside. "Why aren't you in the hospital?"
She closed the door gently. "They patched me up—stitches, a bandage, a clean bill of health. Then they sent me away. 'Not serious enough,' they said." She laughed bitterly. "I'm practically bedridden."
Chesed's jaw tensed. "Because we were on the same mission—"
She held up a hand. "I asked. They said beds are for people who'll die without care. I- would be fine, they said." She rested on the edge of a cot. "I'll heal. But I wanted to see you."
He crossed to her, kneeling by the cot. "They'll come after you next, mark my words. If Nine's council wants to punish me, they'll punish anyone close to me."
Maedyn's gaze was steady. "Because you are Soka? I know what you mean. I've heard rumors." She managed a weak smile. "But I don't think it'll be too bad. If it was to the extent you imagine, this nation wouldn't exist."
He frowned. "What?"
Maedyn winced as she rose. Chesed caught her arm. "Rest. Recover. Don't move until you're well."
She nodded, sitting back down. "I appreciate your care. But if you are being discriminated for being Soka like you say, you need to worry about yourself, not me."
Chesed slowly nodded. "I will."
They stood in silence for a moment, until Maedyn finally spoke, "Chesed… will you stay, tonight?"
Chesed looked into her eyes, and nodded. "Yes."
Maedyn smiled, "Thank you—for coming."