By the time training ended, Kaien's arms ached, his legs trembled, and his stomach had begun making increasingly desperate demands.
w
Sweat clung to his shirt, and every movement reminded him of another place his father's wooden sword had found its mark.
He had managed to land one clean strike against Taren.
One.
For a glorious moment, Kai had been convinced he'd finally caught his father off guard.
Taren had even stepped back, inspected the spot where the wooden sword had touched his shoulder, and offered a genuine nod of approval.
"Well done."
Kai had barely managed to smile before Taren swept his footing out from beneath him.
He'd landed flat on his back, staring at the sky while his father stood over him.
"Never assume an opponent has stopped fighting simply because you've landed a hit."
I hate how much sense that makes.
Now, as he made his way toward the house, Kai was still deciding whether any of that counted as encouragement.
"Wash your hands before touching anything," a woman's voice called from the adjoining workroom.
"I haven't touched anything!"
"You're thinking about it."
Kaien stopped beside a covered tray of freshly prepared food. His hand hovered in the air for a moment before he slowly withdrew it.
"How does she do that?" he muttered.
Mirael Vaelor emerged from her workroom carrying a shallow bowl filled with crushed leaves. Her sleeves were rolled neatly above her wrists, and a few loose strands of hair had escaped the tie holding it back.
A faint green stain marked one thumb, and the subtle scent of herbs followed her into the room.
Her eyes moved from Kai's dusty clothes to the reddening mark near his ribs. "Taren?"
"Who else?"
"Did you remember to keep your guard up?"
Kai stared at her. "Does everyone in this family rehearse these conversations?"
Mirael smiled. "Only the predictable ones."
She set the bowl aside and reached for a small jar. "Come here."
"It's barely a bruise."
"Then you won't mind letting me look."
Kai sighed but stepped closer. His mother examined the mark with practiced hands, pressing gently around the reddened skin before nodding to herself.
"Nothing serious," she said. "Though I imagine your pride suffered considerably."
"That may never recover."
"Unfortunately, I don't have a medicine for that."
From the table, Yuna snorted.
Kai turned toward his sister, who sat with several small bundles of herbs arranged before her. Beside them lay a notebook filled with careful drawings and handwritten observations.
"Shouldn't you be doing something useful?" he asked, eyeing the neat little piles spread across the table.
"I am," Yuna replied without looking up.
"Really? Because from here, it looks like you're arranging leaves into little piles."
"Mother asked me to separate them by their properties." Yuna moved one bundle away from another. "Which is rather important unless you want the wrong thing in your medicine."
Kai glanced at the bundles. "They're leaves, Yuna. I'm fairly certain they all grew on plants."
Yuna looked genuinely offended. "That's like saying all swords are pieces of metal."
Kai considered that. "Technically—"
"Don't."
Mirael chuckled, then held two leaves beside each other. "See the pale line running through this one? It's useful for bringing down swelling.
The other looks almost the same, but if you crush it into a salve without treating it first, you'll make that bruise considerably less comfortable."
Kai leaned away from the second leaf. "And you keep those beside each other?"
"That's why we're sorting them," Yuna said, with the patience of someone explaining the obvious to a very small child.
Yuna lifted another bundle, turning it carefully between her fingers. "This one has to dry slowly, out of direct sunlight. Mother let me prepare a batch yesterday, but I hung it too close to the window."
"And?" Kai asked.
"And the edges curled before the center was ready." Yuna made a face. "Half the batch was useless."
Mirael gave her a reassuring look. "Half the batch taught you something. That's different."
Kai leaned closer. "Really?"
Yuna blinked. "Yes. Really."
"Huh."
He studied the leaves for a moment. The two bundles looked almost identical to him, apart from a slight difference in the shape of their edges.
"Could you use that to make something for sore muscles? Something that helps you recover after training?"
"Possibly," Yuna said. "But if you heat it too quickly, the part that helps with recovery fades before the potion is ready. You'd need another ingredient to keep it steady."
"Or a gentler method," Mirael added. "A good alchemist knows when not to use more heat."
Kai considered the angry red mark on his ribs. "So the difference between a useful potion and an expensive cup of boiled leaves is knowing when to stop?"
"That's one difference," Mirael said, smiling. "Knowing which leaves you're boiling is another."
Yuna stopped rearranging the bundles. Her eyes narrowed. "Wait. Are you actually interested, or are you just hoping I'll make something to save you from tomorrow's training?"
Kai straightened. "I can be interested in things. And if one of those things happens to help me walk without wincing, that's hardly a crime."
"Since when?"
"Since before you were born."
"Then you've had plenty of time to learn the difference between those plants." Mirael laughed.
Kai pointed at his sister. "One day, you're going to need me to rescue you from something."
Yuna returned to her notebook. "And I'll make sure to bring a potion for your bruised ego."
Kai opened his mouth, closed it, then looked toward his mother. "You taught her that."
Mirael smiled sweetly. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Outside, Taren's laughter carried through the open window.
Kaien stared at the ceiling. "I'm surrounded."
Despite himself, he smiled. The fear that had followed him out of bed had finally loosened its grip, leaving him with nothing more mysterious to worry about than how many bruises he'd have by evening.
***
Later that morning, Kaien found himself walking along one of Aokiri's narrow streets with a small woven basket hanging from his arm. He had intended to spend the rest of the morning doing absolutely nothing.
Unfortunately, his mother had other plans.
"Just a few things from the market," she'd said.
That had sounded reasonable enough until she'd handed him a written list that seemed to grow longer every time he looked at it.
Aokiri was already bustling with activity. Merchants arranged their goods beneath shaded awnings, children hurried between buildings, and the familiar clang of the village forge echoed from farther down the road.
A pair of sturdy pack beasts stood beside a trader's wagon, their thick coats marked by dark stripes along their shoulders. Their broad feet were suited to uneven ground, and the short bony ridges above their eyes gave them a perpetually irritated appearance.
One snorted as Kai passed.
He looked at it. "What?"
The beast snorted again.
"Wonderful. Even the animals have something to say today."
Its handler, an older merchant with a weathered face, chuckled. "Don't take it personally, lad. He's been in a foul mood since sunrise."
"Sounds like we have something in common."
Kai continued down the street, passing the forge where the village smith worked a heated length of metal over his anvil. Several unfinished tools hung nearby, along with a small selection of blades intended for travelers and local hunters.
A few pieces of dark, unusually veined ore rested in a wooden crate beside the entrance.
Kai recognized the material from previous visits, although he knew little about its properties beyond the fact that it was difficult to work and considerably more expensive than ordinary iron.
He slowed to watch the smith turn the glowing metal. The hammer rose.
Clang. Again. Clang.
For no reason he could explain, Kai's chest tightened. His fingers curled at his side, and a sudden chill crept across his shoulders despite the heat pouring from the forge. He stared at the hammer, confused by the fear that had seized him.
His steps faltered.
"Kai?"
He blinked. The forge stood before him, unchanged. The smith had paused his work and was looking in his direction.
"You feeling all right, lad?"
Kai rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. Just distracted."
The smith's gaze dropped to the way Kai was standing. "Your father work you too hard again?"
"When doesn't he?"
"Thought so." The smith rested his hammer on the anvil. "You have the same look he wore when he brought me a practice blade with the edge chipped clean through."
Kai frowned. "That wasn't my fault."
"Didn't say it was."
"You were thinking it."
"Now that you mention it, I do remember him saying something about a boy who thought hitting harder would solve every problem."
Kai sighed. "He tells that story to everyone, doesn't he?"
"Only the ones who ask why I keep spare practice blades." The smith grinned, then nodded toward the street. "Go on, lad. Whatever you're supposed to be doing, you'd best get to it before someone comes looking for you."
"Wonderful. First my father, then my sister, and now you. Does everyone in this village enjoy giving me a hard time?"
"Only because you make it so easy."
The smith's laughter followed him as the hammer rose again.
Kai continued toward the market, rubbing his palms against his trousers. The feeling had passed almost as quickly as it came. He couldn't explain it, and the harder he tried, the sillier it seemed. A hammer was a hammer. He'd heard the smith at work hundreds of times.
Still, he found himself glancing back once before turning the corner. The smith had already returned to work.
A sharp voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Kai! Watch where you're going!"
He turned just in time to avoid colliding with a woman carrying a large basket of freshly baked bread. She pulled it against her chest, narrowly saving the loaves stacked inside.
"Sorry!" Kai stepped aside. "I didn't see you there."
"I gathered that." She inspected the basket, then gave him a pointed look. "Fortunately, the bread survived."
Kai glanced at the loaves. "Well, that's a relief. I'd hate to be responsible for a tragedy before midday."
"A tragedy for you, perhaps. I'd have made you pay for every loaf."
"Then I'm especially grateful for your quick reflexes."
Her expression softened into a smile. "You've got your mother's way with words, you know."
"Really? She usually says I inherited my father's talent for getting into trouble."
"Both can be true." She adjusted the basket against her hip. "Now, where are you off to in such a hurry?"
"The market. Mother sent me for a few things."
"Then you'd better get moving. Some of the herb sellers pack up early when the weather turns warm."
Kai looked toward the market stalls farther down the street. "Right. Thanks for the warning."
"And Kai?"
He glanced back.
"Try looking where you're walking this time."
Kai raised a hand in acknowledgment. "I'll make a heroic effort."
She shook her head, smiling as she continued down the street.
Kai watched her go for a moment before turning his attention to the folded list in his hand. He'd nearly forgotten why he'd come out in the first place.
"Right. Market first."
He unfolded the paper and scanned the ingredients his mother had written down.
Then he frowned.
"Wait. What in the world is this ingredient?"
He turned the paper sideways.
It didn't help.
He held the list closer, squinting at the unfamiliar name. Perhaps he'd misread it. His mother's handwriting was usually perfectly clear, but whatever she'd written here looked like something Yuna might have invented just to torment him.
Surely she doesn't expect me to know what this is.
A passing merchant noticed his expression. "Something wrong, lad?"
Kai looked up. "Do you happen to know where I can find this?"
The merchant leaned over to inspect the list.
His eyebrows rose.
"Oh. You'll want the stall at the far end of the market."
Kai brightened. "That's it?"
"Aye. Though I'd hurry if I were you. The seller's been in a foul mood all morning."
Kai's smile faded.
"Of course he has."
The merchant chuckled and continued on his way.
Kai stood there for a moment, staring toward the far end of the market. Somewhere beyond the crowded stalls waited an ingredient he couldn't pronounce and a merchant who apparently wanted nothing to do with anyone.
He glanced down at his basket, then at the list.
I should have stayed in bed.
With a long, defeated sigh, Kaien Vaelor continued toward the market.
And his morning, unfortunately, was far from over.