The morning sun sparkled on the river as Rioran rowed their small wooden boat. His arms moved with steady rhythm, muscles flexing as the oars dipped and rose, rippling the calm water.
Beside him, Aelar leaned over the edge, squinting at the endless trees.
"Father," Aelar asked, poking at the crescent-shaped mark on his forehead, "how do we know when we've reached Padas? Because right now, every tree looks exactly the same to me."
Rioran smirked. "That's because you've never been outside Ravendale. Not every tree looks the same. That one," he nodded toward the bank, "is a birch. That one's oak. And that one…" he pointed, "…is a tree you'll probably run face-first into if you don't stop staring so hard."
Aelar rolled his eyes. "Very funny."
"It was," Rioran said, dead serious, which only made Aelar groan.
They rowed in silence for a while, birds chattering above them. Then Rioran steered toward a quiet shore.
"We're here," he said, tying the boat to a root.
Aelar stood, almost tripping as his legs remembered what solid ground felt like.
"You look like a newborn deer," Rioran teased.
"Shut up," Aelar muttered, though he was grinning.
They climbed the narrow path upward. Strange carvings marked the trees, almost like runes, but Aelar barely noticed. At the top of the hill, his jaw dropped.
"Whoa…"
Below, tucked inside a valley, was a village unlike anything he'd imagined. Stone buildings with wood-tiled roofs, training yards filled with swordfighters, merchants shouting prices, children laughing as they ran past.
"Is this… Padas?" Aelar whispered.
"Yes," Rioran said proudly.
"It's… it's beautiful."
Before they could go further, a guard appeared, hand on his sword.
"Hey! Kid with the mark—and the man. Who are you?"
Aelar stiffened instantly. His birthmark. Always the same.
Rioran put a calming hand on his shoulder. "Easy. I'll handle this."
As his father spoke with the guard, Aelar wandered toward a nearby tree. He was just shading his eyes when a sharp crack split the air.
"Move!" someone shouted.
Aelar dove aside as branches crashed down where he'd been standing. Dust cleared, and a young woman strode forward, lowering her hand from the branch she had clearly cut too hard.
"You okay?" she asked, offering her hand.
Aelar blinked, heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with falling trees. Dark hair tied back, confident eyes, and a practice sword at her hip.
"Uh—I'm fine," he stammered, taking her hand.
She smirked. "Good. I'd rather not be yelled at again. My father already thinks I'm reckless."
"You… kind of are," Aelar blurted, then immediately regretted it.
Instead of snapping, she laughed. "At least you're honest." She gave him a playful wave and walked off.
Aelar stared after her, still holding the dirt on his palms.
Rioran returned, arching a brow. "What's with your face? You look like you just swallowed a bee."
"Nothing," Aelar said quickly.
"Mm-hm," Rioran hummed knowingly.
"Father…" Aelar hesitated, then admitted, "when I saw that girl, my chest got all weird. Like it was tightening up."
Rioran snorted. "Congratulations. You've just discovered what every fool calls love at first sight."
"Love?!" Aelar's ears went red.
"Your grandfather saw your grandmother for the first time in this very village," Rioran said, chuckling. "Said his knees went weak. I told him he probably just tripped."
"Great," Aelar muttered. "So I'm doomed to be clumsy and in love. Perfect."
Rioran clapped his back. "Better than doomed to be ugly and unloved."
"Wow. Thanks for that, Father."
They entered the bustling square, but before they could explore, four men in white uniforms stepped forward.
"You two. The lord wants to see you," one said sharply.
"What, already?" Aelar whispered. "We just got here."
"Apparently we're popular," Rioran murmured.
Horses were brought. Aelar climbed awkwardly onto his, gripping the reins too tightly.
"Careful," Rioran called. "Try not to fall and embarrass us both."
"I'm not that bad!" Aelar protested. His horse immediately snorted and took two uneven steps, nearly throwing him.
"…You were saying?" Rioran grinned.
"Shut up," Aelar groaned again, hanging on for dear life.
The ride through Padas felt like a parade—villagers staring, some respectful, some wary. They arrived at a stone hall, runes carved into its walls. A man in a fine white uniform greeted them with open arms.
"Welcome! Rioran, old friend!"
"It's been a long time," Rioran said carefully. "But my son is tired from the journey."
"Oh, your son?" The man's eyes flicked to Aelar's mark. He smiled thinly. "Interesting."
As they dismounted, Aelar leaned close to his father. "Father, what is happening? Why us?"
"Don't ask questions yet. Just follow my lead," Rioran muttered.
"This is so weird," Aelar whispered.
"Welcome to life, son. It's always weird."
Inside, the grand hall glowed with sunlight and banners. Weapons gleamed on the walls. The lord studied them closely.
"So," he said with a smile, "this is the boy."
Aelar tried to look confident. "Yes, sir. I'm Aelar. And… uh… why exactly did you want to see me?"
The lord chuckled, eyes sharp. "All in good time."
Rioran and Aelar exchanged a glance—half worried, half excited.
"Father," Aelar whispered, "I feel like we just stepped into something way bigger than us."
Rioran sighed. "That's because we did."