The triad of light

The scent of woodsmoke, a comforting aroma that spoke of hearth and home, and the savory tang of freshly caught game, roasting over the embers, hung in the air of the humble but sturdy home of Chief Borin Stonehand, Rhys's father and the respected leader of their quiet village nestled at the foot of Tempest Mountain. The cottage, built of sturdy logs and roofed with thatch, was a reflection of the village itself: simple, practical, and built to withstand the harsh mountain weather. Inside, the fire crackled merrily, casting dancing shadows on the walls adorned with hunting trophies and family heirlooms. Borin sat by the hearth, his weathered hands, calloused and strong from years of working with wood and stone, turning a piece of intricately carved wood, his brow furrowed in deep thought, his eyes reflecting the flickering flames. Across from him, Kaelen meticulously cleaned the blade of his spear, a well-worn weapon that had served him faithfully in countless hunts, the rhythmic strokes of the cloth against the steel a familiar and comforting sound in the small dwelling.

"Kaelen,"

Borin began, his voice a low rumble that held the weight of his years, the wisdom of experience, and the authority of his position as chief. It was a voice that commanded respect, yet also conveyed a deep sense of care for his people.

"We need to talk about Rhys."

Kaelen paused his work, his hand still resting on the spear shaft, his gaze meeting his father's with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He had sensed the gravity in Borin's tone and knew that this was no ordinary conversation.

"He's been… different since the serpent, Father,"

Kaelen acknowledged, his own voice thoughtful.

"More focused, less reckless. The fear seems to have… tempered him. He even helped young Elara with the Grotesque Wolf, facing danger without hesitation."

A hint of pride warmed his voice as he spoke of his brother's bravery.

Borin nodded slowly, a hint of pride softening the lines etched around his eyes.

"I heard. Elara's mother came to me, her gratitude overflowing. The boy has courage, no doubt, and a good heart. But courage alone isn't enough in this world, especially with the changes that seem to be brewing. The stars… their awakening feels significant, more than just a celestial event. The old stories, the legends passed down through generations, whisper of dangers to come, of ancient evils stirring."

He sighed, his gaze returning to the piece of wood in his hands, his fingers tracing the intricate carvings.

"Living solely as a hunter in our village… is that truly the best path for him? Is it enough to prepare him for what might be coming?"

Kaelen remained silent for a moment, considering his father's words, weighing the familiar life they had always known against the uncertainties of the future. He had seen the flicker of something more in Rhys, a potential that extended beyond tracking game in the forest and providing for their family. He had witnessed his brother's raw talent with the spear, his instinctive understanding of combat, but he also recognized the limitations of their village's resources.

"He has a natural talent with the spear,"

Kaelen conceded, his voice thoughtful.

"His reflexes are quick, and his instincts are sharp. He learns quickly, and he's not afraid to face danger. But he lacks formal training, the discipline that comes with proper instruction, the knowledge of different techniques and strategies."

"Exactly,"

Borin said, his voice gaining a firmer tone, his eyes flashing with determination.

"This 'five-element prodigy' in Aethelgard… the rumors are spreading even here, carried by traders and travelers. They say she's a daughter of the Valerius family, a name we all know. The world is changing, Kaelen, and we can't afford to be left behind, clinging to the old ways. Rhys needs more than what our village can offer him, more than we can teach him. He needs an education, the kind they provide at the academy in Aethelgard."

Just then, as if summoned by their conversation, Rhys entered the cottage, a brace of rabbits slung over his shoulder, their fur still warm. He stopped short, sensing the serious tone of the discussion, the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air. He looked from his father to his brother, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Rhys,"

Borin said, his gaze meeting his son's, his expression both stern and loving.

"Your brother and I have been discussing your future, the path you will take in life."

Rhys shifted slightly, a hint of apprehension flickering in his eyes. He was content with his life in the village, with the familiar rhythm of the hunt and the camaraderie of his fellow villagers. The idea of leaving, of venturing into the unknown, filled him with a sense of unease.

"We believe,"

Borin continued, his voice warm but firm, his words carefully chosen,

"that it's time for you to consider a different path, a path that will give you more opportunities, more knowledge, more… protection in the uncertain times ahead."

He paused, letting his words sink in.

"We think you should go to the academy in Aethelgard."

Rhys frowned slightly, his confusion deepening.

"But I'm a hunter, Father. This is my home. My life is here, in the forest, with my family."

He gestured around the small cottage, his voice filled with a sense of belonging.

"And you're a good hunter, son, one of the best for your age,"

Borin affirmed, his voice softening with pride.

"You have a natural talent, a connection to the wild that few possess. But the world is vast, Rhys, and there are dangers beyond the forest, dangers we here in the village can barely imagine. The academy in Aethelgard… it can teach you more than we can. It can prepare you for whatever might come. You saw yourself the power of the beasts in Tempest Forest, the strength of the Black Serpent."

Kaelen nodded in agreement, stepping forward to place a hand on Rhys's shoulder.

"Formal training will hone your skills, Rhys. You have raw talent, but discipline, strategy, and knowledge of different fighting styles will make you stronger, more adaptable, more capable of facing whatever challenges lie ahead."

He spoke with the voice of experience, having witnessed firsthand the limitations of untrained skill.

Rhys looked from his father to his brother, his mind racing, a thoughtful expression clouding his features. He remembered his fear facing the Black Serpent, the feeling of being utterly outmatched. But he also remembered the surge of satisfaction he felt when protecting Elara, the sense of purpose that came with helping someone in need. Perhaps there was more to being a warrior than just hunting, more to life than the familiar routines of the village.

"The chief's son,"

Borin continued, a proud glint returning to his eye, his voice filled with a quiet dignity,

"enrolling in the academy. It would be an honor for our village, a testament to our strength and our willingness to embrace change. It would be an opportunity for you to learn and grow, to become something more than just a hunter."

The next morning, the familiar sounds of the village, the chirping of birds and the lowing of livestock, were accompanied by a slightly different kind of energy in the Stonehand household. A sense of anticipation and a touch of melancholy filled the air as preparations were underway for Rhys's departure. His mother, Lyra Stonehand, a kind and nurturing woman whose heart ached at the thought of her youngest son leaving home, fussed over him, ensuring he had enough warm clothes to ward off the city's chill, dried rations to sustain him on the journey, and a hundred small comforts packed into his travel bag, each item chosen with a mother's love.

A sturdy family chariot, usually used for transporting goods to the neighboring villages, its wooden wheels reinforced for long journeys, stood ready outside the cottage. Kaelen, ever the responsible older brother, would be his escort, a reassuring presence by his side on the journey to Aethelgard, a guardian and a guide.

Lyra clung to Rhys one last time, her embrace tight and lingering, tears welling in her eyes, her voice thick with emotion.

"My sweet boy,"

She murmured, her words filled with a mother's love and a hint of fear for his safety.

"You'll always be my little hunter, my wild child. Remember that this is always your home, your sanctuary. You can come back anytime, for any reason. Never forget that, no matter how far you travel."

She pressed a small, intricately woven charm into his hand, a charm passed down through generations of Stonehand women.

"This will keep you safe, my love. It's imbued with ancient magic."

Rhys hugged her tightly, a lump forming in his own throat, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He had never been this far away from his family before, never faced the prospect of being alone in a strange and unfamiliar place. The thought filled him with a sense of trepidation.

Borin placed a hand on Rhys's shoulder, his gaze firm but filled with affection and pride.

"Go, son,"

He said, his voice gruff but gentle.

"Learn well. Make us proud. Kaelen will look after you, but you must also learn to stand on your own two feet."

With final farewells exchanged and a lingering look back at his mother, who stood watching them with tear-filled eyes, waving a small, trembling hand, Rhys climbed into the chariot beside Kaelen. Borin gave a nod to his eldest son, a silent acknowledgment of the responsibility he entrusted to him, and with a gentle urging of the reins, the sturdy chariot began to roll, its wheels creaking on the dirt road, leaving behind the familiar sights and sounds of their village, the towering presence of Tempest Mountain, heading towards the distant, bustling city of Aethelgard, a beacon of both opportunity and uncertainty. The journey had begun, coinciding with the quiet departure of a young monk from the serene peaks of Mount Serenity, both young men unknowingly heading towards a future intertwined with destiny, their paths converging under the watchful gaze of the three mysterious stars.