Kael stepped through the front door of his family's home, the familiar creak of the wood beneath his feet sounding louder in the quiet night. The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting faint shadows on the walls, and the air smelled faintly of cooked stew, now cold. His heart was still racing from the eerie journey back through the forest, and he felt the weight of the coat heavy on his shoulders, the silver ring loose on his thumb.
His parents were seated at the table. His mother, Lira, was sewing, the firelight catching the golden strands of her hair, while his father, Ronan, sat across from her, cleaning his work tools, his face hardened with the familiar expression of exhaustion. They both looked up as Kael entered, the door closing behind him with a soft thud.
For a brief moment, there was silence.
"Kael?" Lira's voice was soft but sharp, her eyes immediately narrowing as she took in his disheveled appearance. "Where have you been? We've been worried sick!"
Kael hesitated. He had played this moment over in his head on the way back, trying to find the right words to explain himself. But now that he stood in front of them, he could already feel the tension building. He set his jaw and walked forward, the coat still draped over his arm.
"I... I found something," he said, his voice strained. "In the forest."
Ronan put down his tools, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What do you mean, 'found'? What in the world are you wearing?"
Kael took a deep breath, holding out the coat for them to see. The fine fabric still gleamed faintly in the firelight, despite the bloodstains and dirt that clung to it. Lira gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, while Ronan's face darkened.
"I found a man—a dead man. He'd been attacked by something, maybe a bear. This coat and... this ring were all that was left of him. I thought... I thought it could help us."
The room went cold. Lira's hands shook as she lowered her sewing, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and disbelief. Ronan stood slowly, his chair scraping against the floor. His brow furrowed, and his fists clenched as he stared at the coat in Kael's hands.
"You what?" Ronan's voice was low, but the fury in it was unmistakable. "You robbed a corpse? Have you lost your mind, boy?"
Kael flinched at his father's tone but quickly snapped back, the frustration he had buried earlier rising once again. "I didn't rob him! He was already dead! He wasn't going to need it, and I thought—"
"You thought?" Lira interrupted, her voice trembling. "Kael, you don't steal from the dead! What were you thinking, bringing something like that into our home?"
Kael's heart pounded in his chest. "I did it for us! For the family! You're always talking about how we need money, how hard things are on the farm. I thought this coat could be worth something. It could help!"
"Help?" Ronan barked, his voice rising. "You think taking some dead man's belongings is going to help us? Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Kael felt the heat rise in his face, his fists clenching at his sides. "You don't understand! I'm trying to do something for once! I'm trying to do more than just pull weeds and plow fields!"
"Kael, stop!" Lira's voice cracked, her face pale with distress. "You're not helping! You're putting us all in danger! Do you even know what you've brought back?"
Kael's breath caught in his throat as his parents' fear began to seep into his own. He stared at the coat, confusion clouding his mind. "It's just a coat. A fancy one, yes, but it's valuable. We could sell it—"
"You don't know anything!" Ronan slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing through the room. "That's no ordinary coat, Kael! Do you even know where something like that comes from?"
Kael swallowed hard, his voice shaking. "It's just... expensive. I figured it must have come from some noble or merchant."
"It's not just expensive!" Lira cried, her eyes wide with fear. "It's from Rheloria, Kael! That coat—those robes—they're tailored in Rheloria! Do you understand what that means?"
Kael blinked, his mind reeling. Rheloria? That was the nearest and largest kingdom, a place riddled with strong mages and warriors. The robes they made were worn only by the highest-ranking officials, the richest merchants, and the nobility of their court. People from his village never even saw such clothes, let alone touched them.
"You can't just wear that, Kael," Lira continued, her voice shaky. "If anyone finds out you're walking around in Rhelorian robes, they'll think you've stolen from a noble or worse. We'll be arrested—or worse."
Kael's heart sank. He hadn't thought of that. He hadn't thought of any of it.
"I didn't know," he said quietly, his voice faltering. "I thought—"
"You didn't think," Ronan snapped. "You never think. You always act without considering the consequences. Do you have any idea what could happen if someone sees you in that coat? You've put a target on our backs, Kael!"
Tears pricked at the corners of Kael's eyes, a lump forming in his throat. "I was just trying to help... I thought a poor family like ours could use the money. He was dead—he had no use for it anymore. It's not like I was stealing from someone alive!"
"You were stealing from a dead man!" Ronan roared. "It doesn't matter if he was alive or not! And that kind of thinking—do you know where it leads? You've put us all at risk. We're not rich enough to deal with the consequences if anyone comes looking for that coat."
At that, a small, trembling voice cut through the tension.
"Stop... please stop."
Kael looked down to see his sister, Mira, standing in the doorway, her small hands clenched at her sides, her eyes brimming with tears. "Please stop fighting," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I don't like it when you fight."
The room fell silent. Kael's heart twisted in his chest as he looked at her, guilt flooding through him. He hadn't meant for things to go this way. He had thought—stupidly—that this would be something his family would appreciate. But now he could see the fear in his mother's eyes, the anger in his father's clenched jaw, and the tears running down his sister's cheeks.
He had only made things worse.
Ronan sighed heavily, the tension draining from his body as he sat back down at the table, rubbing a hand over his face. "Kael, you're young. You don't understand how dangerous this world can be. Those robes... they're from another kingdom, from Rheloria. If anyone finds out you have them, they'll ask questions we can't answer. You can't sell it. You can't wear it. You need to get rid of it."
Kael felt the weight of his father's words sinking in. He stared down at the coat in his hands, the fabric now feeling like a burden rather than a gift. He hadn't understood. He hadn't known.
"I didn't mean to...," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I thought I was doing the right thing."
His mother stood and walked over to him, her eyes soft with understanding despite the fear still lingering in them. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her voice tender. "We know, Kael. But sometimes, trying to do the right thing without knowing the whole picture can lead to trouble."
Kael nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. His naivety, once again, had brought him to the edge of danger, and this time it wasn't just his life at risk—it was his family's.
"We can't keep it," Lira said softly but firmly. "We'll burn the robe. And the ring... we'll throw it into the river. No one can know about this."
Kael's stomach churned, but he nodded. There was no arguing with them now. The robe, once a symbol of something greater, now seemed like a weight dragging him down.
Together, the family moved to the hearth. Ronan took the coat from Kael's trembling hands and held it above the fire. The flames flickered and crackled, casting shadows on the walls as they licked at the fabric. Slowly, the robe began to catch, curling into the fire as the embers consumed it.
Kael watched as the expensive fabric blackened and turned to ash, the faint scent of smoke filling the room. The heat from the fire warmed his face, but inside, he felt only coldness. The flames seemed to mock him, their dance a reminder of how little control he had over the world around him.
Once the robe was no more than ash, Kael stepped outside, the night air cool and crisp against his skin. The moonlight illuminated the path to the river, its gentle flow reflecting the stars above. In his hand, he clutched the silver ring.
It gleamed in the pale light, a reminder of his foolishness. Slowly, he walked to the water's edge