Morning sunlight filtered through the small window of the Kaldar household, casting warm rays across the room. Kael sat at the table, a knife in hand as he peeled the skin off a basket of potatoes. His mother, Ellara, worked by the hearth, her hands deftly kneading dough for bread. The room smelled of flour and the faint aroma of herbs drying in the corner.
"You've been awfully quiet this morning," Ellara said, glancing at her son. Her tone was casual, but her eyes held a glimmer of concern.
Kael shrugged without looking up. "Just thinking, that's all."
Ellara paused, brushing her flour-dusted hands against her apron. "Thinking? You? I thought that was Dren's specialty."
Kael chuckled softly. "It happens sometimes."
"You've been spending too much time with him. I swear, one day you'll come back quoting ancient texts or ranting about lost treasures."
"Maybe that wouldn't be so bad," Kael murmured.
Ellara frowned, catching the faint trace of something deeper in his voice. Before she could press further, the door creaked open, and Aiden entered, carrying an armful of firewood. His boots thudded against the wooden floor as he set the logs down near the hearth.
"Talking his ear off again, Ellara?" Aiden teased, his eyes glinting with humor.
"He's not made of glass, you know," Ellara replied, though her lips twitched into a smile.
Aiden ruffled Kael's hair as he passed. "What's on your mind, son?"
Kael hesitated. "Just… things I heard in the market yesterday."
Ellara's hands froze momentarily, and Aiden's face turned serious. "Rumors," Ellara said quickly, her voice firm. "Nothing more."
Kael's brow furrowed. "But what if—"
"Ellara's right," Aiden interrupted gently but firmly. "Rumors have a way of growing larger than the truth. Focus on what's in front of you."
Kael sighed, biting back his frustration. It always felt like his parents were hiding something, steering him away from questions he desperately wanted to ask.
---
Later that morning, Kael met up with Dren and Lyra near the outskirts of the village. Dren was, as usual, scribbling furiously in his notebook, muttering under his breath about maps and ancient texts. Lyra leaned against a tree nearby, her bow slung over her shoulder. She looked up as Kael approached, her expression as no-nonsense as ever.
"You're late," Lyra said flatly.
"Good morning to you too," Kael replied with a smirk.
Lyra raised an eyebrow. "Morning ended an hour ago. Try to keep up."
Dren didn't look up from his notebook. "Kael, you have to see this!"
Kael peered over his shoulder, trying to make sense of the messy scrawl. "What am I looking at?"
Dren tapped the page excitedly. "I found references to a lost Vodarkian artifact in the archives. It's mentioned in a ledger from centuries ago—some kind of relic tied to King Khafel Vodark's campaigns. Imagine what it could mean if it's real!"
Lyra rolled her eyes. "You're always chasing ghosts, Dren."
"They're not ghosts," Dren protested. "History is real, and it's all around us. You just have to look hard enough."
Kael listened quietly, his thoughts turning back to the strange traveler he had seen days before. "Where exactly do you think this artifact is?"
Dren hesitated, flipping through his notes. "The ledger wasn't specific, but I think it's somewhere in the valley. Maybe even near the village."
"That's convenient," Lyra muttered.
Kael couldn't shake the feeling that Dren might be onto something, even if he didn't want to admit it.
---
As the sun climbed higher, the trio wandered through the village, stopping occasionally to chat with merchants and townsfolk. The market square was bustling with activity, filled with the sounds of haggling and laughter.
Kael noticed a group of men speaking in hushed tones near a stall. Their expressions were tense, their voices low but urgent.
"Did you hear?" one of them said. "They were spotted near the eastern ridge."
"Who?" another man asked, his brow furrowed.
"Mercenaries," the first man replied. "Heavily armed. Looked like trouble."
Kael pretended to examine a rack of trinkets nearby, his ears straining to catch more of their conversation.
"Do you think they're coming here?"
"Hard to say. But if they are, we'd better be ready."
A chill ran down Kael's spine. He turned to Dren and Lyra, lowering his voice. "Did you hear that?"
Lyra nodded, her expression serious. "Mercenaries. That's not something you hear every day."
Dren frowned. "Why would mercenaries be near a quiet village like ours?"
"I don't know," Kael said. "But it doesn't sound good."
---
That evening, the Kaldar household was unusually quiet. Kael sat at the dinner table, his mind racing with thoughts of the mercenaries and Dren's discoveries.
"I heard something in the market today," Kael said finally, breaking the silence.
Ellara and Aiden exchanged a quick glance. "What did you hear?" Ellara asked cautiously.
"People were talking about mercenaries near the village," Kael replied.
Ellara's face darkened. "You shouldn't be listening to rumors."
"It's not just rumors," Kael insisted. "What if it's true? What if they're—"
"Enough," Ellara snapped, her voice trembling. "We don't need to go looking for trouble."
Kael clenched his fists. "Why are you always like this? I'm not a child. I can handle the truth!"
Aiden's voice cut through the tension, calm but firm. "Your mother's right, Kael. Some things are best left alone."
Kael stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "You always say that. Maybe it's time I stopped listening."
He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Aiden watched him go, his expression unreadable. "He's growing up faster than I'd like," he said quietly.
Ellara sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Too fast."
---
Kael sat outside, the cool night air soothing his frayed nerves. The stars above seemed impossibly bright, their light casting faint shadows across the village. He thought about the mercenaries, the artifact, and the strange traveler who had sparked so many questions.
Deep down, he knew he couldn't ignore the whispers any longer.