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Chapter 2 - A Warm Hearth

Morning sunlight fell through the window, casting warm light across the wooden floor. The sharp, clean scent of pine and morning dew drifted in on the breeze, accompanied by the bright chirping of forest birds.

Ravon pushed the lavender-scented blankets aside, blinking away the last heavy remnants of sleep. The floor was cold against his bare feet, a sharp shock that completely woke him up. Stepping outside the front door, he pulled the crisp morning air into his lungs.

A wooden barrel of fresh rainwater sat by the entrance. Plunging his hands in, he splashed the freezing water over his face, washing away the grogginess. He grabbed a fibrous cleaning twig from a small cup on the porch, chewing on the bitter end to scrub his teeth while staring out at the green wall of the Beast Forest.

"Ravon! Breakfast!" Mira's voice floated through the open windows, warm and inviting.

"I'm coming!" Ravon called back.

Tossing the used twig into a bin, he hurried back inside. The rich smell of frying eggs and cured bacon made his stomach rumble. In the dining room, Darius already sat at the heavy oak table. The broad-shouldered warrior was leaning over two unfurled parchment scrolls, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

Setting a steaming plate in front of Ravon, Mira wiped her hands on her apron and poured coffee for her husband. "Still deciding?"

Darius tapped the left scroll. "I can't choose. The Adventurer's Guild needs a party to hunt a Forest Wyvern causing trouble in the Arora Forest. But this other one is an escort mission for the Foreign Minister of the Ranvee Kingdom. Pays a fortune."

A knowing smile touched Mira's lips as she set the coffee pot down. "I know you're going to pick the Wyvern quest, Darius. Even if the escort mission pays double."

A loud laugh echoed through the room. Darius leaned back, grinning up at his wife. "That's exactly why I married you. You know me too well. Escort missions are just glorified babysitting."

Watching them laugh, Ravon gripped his wooden fork. The warmth of the room suddenly reminded him of the empty space in his own mind. He looked down at his plate. "Darius?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"What happened to the quest? The one to find my parents?"

The laughter died instantly. The room went so quiet that the crackle of the hearth seemed deafening. Darius lowered his coffee mug, his calloused hands resting flat on the table.

"I'm sorry, Ravon," Darius said, his voice unusually soft. "It's been six months. I check the board every time I go to the city, but... no one has responded yet."

A heavy knot formed in Ravon's throat. Six months of waiting. Six months of wondering if anyone out there was missing him. He stared hard at his food, fighting the sudden sting of tears in his eyes.

Sensing the shift in the room, Mira quickly stepped in. She placed a gentle hand on Ravon's shoulder. "Missing person quests take a lot of time, sweetheart. The world is a very big place. We just have to be patient." She gave Darius a pointed look. "Besides, speaking of the Guild, didn't you say Ravon was curious about how it all works?"

Catching the lifeline, Darius sat up straighter. "Right! The Adventurer's Guild. Well, kid, adventurers are a strange bunch. Some do it for the thrill, some want to protect people, and others just want to discover the unknown."

Ravon wiped his eyes, his curiosity slowly pushing through the sadness. "How do you become one?"

"You get a guild license," Darius explained, using his fork to draw imaginary lines in the air. "The Guild takes requests from regular people—like hunting monsters or finding lost items—and posts them. Adventurers pick the quests and get paid."

"If I join the guild, does that mean I can pick any quest I want, just like you?" Ravon asked, his eyes brightening with excitement.

"No," Darius replied, his tone turning serious. "There is a strict ranking system in place so rookies don't get themselves killed on their first day. Everyone starts at E-rank. As you prove yourself, you move up through D, C, B, and A." He paused, pointing his fork at Ravon for emphasis. "Above that is S-rank. Special rank. Those are the living legends."

"What rank are you and Mira?"

"A-rank," Darius said.

Excitement sparked in Ravon's chest. "When can I join? Can I get a license today?"

"Whoa, slow down." Darius chuckled. "You have to be at least ten—"

"And even then it's dangerous," Mira cut in, her tone turning serious. She walked to the empty chair beside Ravon and sat. "An adventurer's life is brutal. No one knows which quest will be their last. It is far too dangerous for untrained children."

"That's why I'm going to train him," Darius argued gently.

"I don't want him joining the Guild at all," Mira sighed, resting a hand over her deeply swollen stomach. "I don't want to see our little Ravon in pain."

Suddenly, she winced. A sharp hiss escaped her lips, and she gripped the edge of the table, rubbing her belly.

Darius was out of his chair in a second, hovering nervously by her side. "Is it bad? Seems like the little guy is starting to kick his mother after eight months of resting."

"I'm fine," Mira breathed, though her amber eyes were tight with anxiety. She looked up at Darius, her voice dropping to a fragile whisper. "We can't lose him too, Darius."

A silence fell over the table. Ravon didn't understand the sudden shift, but he saw the quiet sadness pass between the strong warrior and the gentle healer. It made his own chest ache.

He pushed his chair back and stood up, grabbing his empty plate. "I'll wash the dishes today," Ravon declared, puffing his chest out to look brave. "You need to sit and rest, Mira."

Surprise washed over Mira's face before melting into profound affection. Reaching out, she pulled Ravon into a tight, warm hug. "Thank you, my sweet boy."

Darius smiled, rolling up the scroll with the Wyvern mark. "Alright, then it's settled. I'm off to hunt a wyvern. While I'm gone, Ravon, you have your sword training. Don't slack off."

After the plates were scrubbed and stacked, the morning heat burned away the dew. Out in the dusty yard, the quiet of the forest was broken by a new rhythm.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

Sweat stung Ravon's eyes, but he didn't blink. Standing in the dirt yard outside the house, he gripped the hilt of his wooden training sword with both hands, swinging it downward in a relentless, repetitive arc.

From her spot on the porch stairs, Mira watched him carefully, her hands resting on her stomach. "Make sure you keep your footing solid, Ravon!" she called out. "You're picking up those forms fast. Six months and you already swing with Darius's rhythm."

Ravon adjusted his stance, slicing the air again. He wanted to swing harder.

I need to grow stronger, he thought, his knuckles turning white around the wooden hilt. If no one is coming to find me, I will become powerful enough to travel the world and find my family myself.

But as he paused to catch his breath, he glanced back at Mira resting gently on the porch. A deep wave of protectiveness washed over him.

Mira and Darius are very kind people. I will keep visiting them, even after I find my real family.

"I'm going to have to teach you some basic magic soon," Mira mused aloud, leaning back against the wooden railing. "If I leave you entirely to Darius, you're going to end up a brute fighter just like him. A little magical finesse never hurt anyone."

"I want to learn magic too!" Ravon said eagerly, lowering his practice sword.

An hour later, the sun began to dip heavily below the tree line.

"Okay, that's enough for today!" Mira finally announced. "Rest your arms before they fall off."

Dropping the wooden sword, Ravon walked over to the rainwater barrel. Plunging a small wooden bucket inside, he poured the cool water over his head, washing away the sweat and the grime of the yard.

Evening fell quickly. The sky turned a bruised purple just as heavy boots crunched up the dirt path.

Darius pushed the front door open, looking thoroughly exhausted. His armor was covered in scratches, and he smelled strongly of sweat and blood. Unbuckling his heavy scabbard, he handed it to Mira. She carefully placed the longsword onto the weapon shelf in the hallway, setting it perfectly in line.

Collapsing onto the couch in the living room, Darius let out a groan of relief.

"So," Mira asked, handing him a cup of water. "How was the hunt?"

"Tough," Darius admitted, downing the water in one gulp. "It was an adult Forest Wyvern. Stubborn beast. But it wasn't stronger than my party."

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Ravon leaned forward, his red eyes wide with curiosity. "What does an adult Wyvern look like?"

"Terrifying," Darius grinned, leaning forward to match Ravon's excitement. "They're colossal, mostly a sickly green color, with wings wide enough to cast a shadow over a small town. They use advanced wind magic to tear up the battlefield. The worst part is when they hit adulthood, their bodies grow these thick, brown scales. Hard as iron. If you're lower than A-rank, your sword will just bounce right off."

Darius reached out and ruffled Ravon's messy black hair. "But don't worry. With enough training, you'll be knocking Wyverns out of the sky too. Once you fully master the basic sword forms, I'll teach you physical enchantment magic."

"And I will teach you the basic spells for day-to-day life," Mira added, coming up behind the sofa. "But first, we'll need to test you to find out what your energy composition is."

"When will I take the test?" Ravon asked, his eyes shining.

Mira thought for a moment, resting a hand on her chin. "When you turn seven years old."

"By that time, he will already have surpassed basic swordsmanship," Darius teased, grinning up at his wife. "Then maybe he won't even need to learn magic."

Mira rolled her eyes playfully at her husband. "Only a barbarian thinks magic is unnecessary," she countered smoothly. She looked down at Ravon, her smile softening as she took in his bright, eager gaze. "And our Ravon isn't a barbarian. Look at those shining eyes, Darius. He clearly wants me to teach him a few spells."

Hours later, after a dinner of stew and bread, the house finally went quiet.

Lying in his bed, staring up at the dark wooden ceiling, Ravon's mind was racing. He held his hand up in the moonlight, wiggling his fingers. What kind of power was hiding inside him? He thought about Mira lighting the hearth with a snap of her fingers, or pulling water from the air to clean a wound. Fire and water magic seemed so incredible.

He imagined himself swinging a sword wrapped in bright, roaring flames, saving people just like Darius did. The heroic image danced in his head, warm and safe. He didn't notice how the shadows in the corner of his bedroom seemed to stretch toward him as he slept.

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