Amukelo returned from his journey with Syltar, his mind teeming with tales and newfound wisdom that seemed to radiate from him like the warmth of the morning sun. As he stepped through the doorway of his home, he was greeted by his mother Lyna's anxious, expectant gaze which quickly softened into relief and joy as she saw him safe and sound.
"Mother," Amukelo began, his voice vibrant with excitement. He recounted the adventures and the narratives imparted by the wise elf. He told her about Edomir, the things that happened to him, how the Lord Tharn tried to kill him, but when Edomir had a chance to finish his enemy, he showed mercy. Lyna listened intently. Her eyes sparkled with pride and fascination, hanging on every word that painted a picture of a world so vast and filled with wonders beyond her quiet existence.
Lyna's heart swelled with happiness, knowing she had made the right decision allowing Amukelo for this small adventure. "Amukelo," she said softly after he finished, "seeing you this excited, this reminds me of the times when I read you stories to sleep. I'm so happy for you." Her approval filled him with gratitude and a renewed sense of responsibility, not wanting to add to her burdens but to alleviate them.
In the following weeks, Amukelo threw himself into his duties with vigor previously unseen. He repaired the old fences that lined their property with the meticulousness of a skilled craftsman, tended to the garden ensuring every plant received its due care, and managed the small livestock with a gentle, assured touch. Each task was performed not out of obligation but from a desire to show his gratitude for his mother's trust and support. Lyna observed his efforts, her heart warming with each passing day at his diligence and the love he poured into every chore, making her daily toils that much lighter.
Finally, feeling a balance had been restored and not wanting to let the lessons fade into the humdrum of daily life, Amukelo approached his mother again. "Mother, can I visit Syltar once more?." Lyna, seeing the earnestness in his eyes and the maturity that had begun to clothe his once reckless enthusiasm, nodded her consent without hesitation.
With a heart light and full of anticipation, Amukelo set out again with his faithful friend Eagor. They found Syltar in his hut, a bubbling pot of wild game soup filling his humble dwelling with a rich, inviting aroma. The old elf welcomed them with a broad grin and two steaming bowls of soup.
As they settled in, warmed by the soup and the cozy interior of the moss-covered hut, Syltar began his story. "There is a story of a young man, perhaps just a bit older than you, named Josias. He lived in a land of rolling plains, where the sun was warm, and the fields were golden. But Josias was not an ordinary boy—no, he was gifted with a sight beyond others. He could see visions, fragments of a future that seemed beyond the grasp of men."
Amukelo leaned in, interested, while Eagor sat quietly, listening to the elf's soothing tone.
"Now, Josias came from a large family—seven brothers, to be exact. And though his gift should have been cherished, it became a curse in his home. His brothers, envious of their father's favor toward him, despised Josias. They saw his visions not as blessings, but as threats to their place in the world. Josias told them of dreams where he saw himself in a position of great honor, as though fate itself had chosen him for something grand."
Syltar paused, watching Amukelo's eyes flicker with understanding. "His brothers plotted against him, and one day, while they were tending their flocks far from home, they seized him. Filled with jealousy and rage, they bound him and sold him into slavery, to a distant land ruled by an empire unlike any Josias had ever seen. He was taken from his home, stripped of everything he knew, and cast into a life of hardship. His chains were heavy, and the work was brutal. Every day, Josias wondered if he would ever see his family again."
Amukelo clenched his fists slightly, imagining himself in Josias' place.
"But here's where the story takes a turn, Amukelo. You see, most would have been broken by such betrayal and hardship, but not Josias. No, instead, he grew stronger. Each trial he faced, each day of hard labor, forged him like steel in a fire. He did not curse his fate, nor did he fall into despair. He held on to the belief that there was a greater purpose for his suffering, though he could not yet see what it was."
Syltar's voice lowered, more intense now. "Josias' strength, wisdom, and unwavering spirit caught the attention of the empire's rulers. Though he was a slave, he rose through the ranks, and soon he was placed in charge of entire estates, leading men and managing great wealth. But that was not all. The empire, vast and powerful as it was, soon faced a catastrophe—a famine that threatened to swallow the land."
"The rulers were desperate, unsure of how to save their people. And then, Josias was called upon. You see, he had dreamt of this famine many years before, long before he was sold into slavery. He had foreseen the drought, the barren fields, the starving people. And so, he guided the empire, teaching them how to store food, to prepare for the years of famine. And because of his wisdom, the empire survived, even flourished, while other lands fell into ruin."
"Then," Syltar continued, "one day, many years after Josias was sold into slavery, a group of travelers came to the empire. They were hungry, and desperate, searching for food to bring back to their homeland. They did not recognize the man before them—the man they had once sold into slavery. It was his brothers, now on their knees, begging for mercy."
Amukelo's eyes widened. He could see where this was going.
"But Josias, Amukelo, did not seek revenge. He did not punish them for their betrayal. Instead, he revealed his identity and told them that their evil actions had led to the salvation of thousands. What they intended for harm, the God had turned into a path toward greatness. Josias' suffering had not been in vain. It had forged him into the man who would save an entire empire and, in the end, save his own family from ruin."
Syltar leaned back, letting the weight of the story settle over the two boys. "Remember, boys, difficulties, no matter how painful, can forge you into something greater. They are the fire that hardens you, shapes you. And sometimes, what looks like suffering or betrayal is just the beginning of a path to something much larger. Josias could never have known, in his chains, that he would one day save those who betrayed him. But he trusted in a higher purpose, and he became more than anyone could have imagined."
Amukelo sat in silence, his mind racing with thoughts of his own life, of fate might wait for him. He glanced at Syltar, and for the first time, he understood why these stories mattered. They were not just tales of the past—they were guides for his own future.
Syltar smiled, seeing the lesson had sunk in, and turned his gaze back to the fire.
The journey back from Syltar's hut had been swift as dusk began to creep over the village. Amukelo and Eagor, their minds brimming with the rich tapestry of Jarin's story, parted ways with promises to meet again soon. As Amukelo entered his home, the atmosphere was quiet, the usual evening bustle subdued. Lyna and his brothers were already winding down, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. Amukelo burned to share the new tale, its lessons of resilience and never giving up echoing in his thoughts, but sensing the fatigue around him and his mother, he decided to hold the story until morning.
That night, as he lay in bed, Amukelo noticed unfamiliar bags packed near the door. They were modestly filled, suggesting a journey of some sort, but no one had mentioned any travel plans. Curiosity gnawed at him, but respecting his family's privacy, he chose not to inquire right away. Not thinking much about it, he went to sleep like everyone.