A Hero's Strength (1)

CHAPTER 1 — Elvar

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The cart gently wobbled from time to time, when little stones came under its wheels. It was being pulled by three horses and was big enough to carry a dozen men — like some sort of moving platform. It had been designed by Fraser, Kian's good friend.

On the moving cart, stood six men, holding their own weapon of choice and wearing a victorious smile, along with the dead corpse of the alligator monster that they had defeated during the Expedition trip.

They waved gently from atop the moving contraption, as they gazed down at the shifting crowd below.

It was the clansmen — from the oldest and most-wrinkled to the youngest of babes — all of Badr Clan was standing, in two long files around the moving cart, leaving the road ahead open, to welcome the six brave men who had left to hunt the carnivorous beast of Lake Ur.

They cheered and shouted in glee, throwing flowers and coins at the passing men.

However, contrary to expectations, it wasn't the other men but only one individual who was the object of their unrelenting affections. This individual had been made the Aryan, or the General, of this expedition, and as expected, it had been the correct decision.

At the front of all the Chosen ones, stood one particular man, covered in dirt and grime, wet from the water. However, no amount of dirt and sweat could cover this man's beauty.

As it so happened, he had been the sole reason that the entire entourage arrived victorious and uninjured. The Aryan, who had single-handedly defeated the beast that no number of men in Badr could subdue before, only added to the crowd's flames of appreciation that overflowed at the mere sight of him.

His brilliant golden hair was soaked in water and glistened under the light, while his face was stamped with a humble smile, despite the flattering compliments he was constantly receiving for his grand feat.

As the Clan people watched him, standing in the middle of the group, their hearts filled with pride and affection, for under the bright sun, he seemed to be shining. Even his very presence, seemed so magnetic, that no amount of exposition could make them used to it.

"Kian!" They cheered, smiling, and jumping with applause, as they called out his name, "Victory to our Kian!"

Yes, that was his name — that lovely, unique name.

This name had long since become familiar to the ears of the people, for it was heard in every victory that they received. Since the age of 14, Kian had contributed all his being to the safety and wellbeing of Badr, more so than any other person had ever done.

He was not only a strong and courageous man, always willing to help by risking his life for others, but he was also handsome, filial, and — to every Badr maiden's delight ⏤ apparently single.

Currently, at the marriageable age of 23, it was high time for him to tie the knot of matrimonial devotion, and the unmarried girls, who had committed their entire being into perfecting their beauty, could not wait for him to take notice of them when he searched for a bride.

Thinking so, a flock of females swooned at Kian's appearance, calling out to him with giggles and sweet chirps, "Kian! Kian!" They shouted, laughing and flirtatiously glancing at him.

Noticing the group of women, Kian gave a shy smile and turned away. Seeing this, they started making an even greater uproar. Oh! How much more adorable could this man possibly turn...

From beside him, Fraser, who was Kian's good friend and the designer of the cart, gave the ladies a wink.

His own appearance, of untidy dark auburn hair and blue eyes, was not ugly. In fact, his sharp features, and slender stature were sure to garner some attention. However, in response to his short flirtatious gesture to the ladies, he only received a ton of scoffs, as the girls gave him a stink eye and turned back towards their golden-haired god.

Seeing their blatant rejection, Fraser sighed with mocking pain.

"Kian, my friend," He said to him, "Do you know that your existence has turned me into a permanent sidekick, that will never have his own heroine?"

Puzzled, Kian frowned at him, "Hah? What nonsense are you spouting now?"

Fraser watched Kian — whose eyes were scrutinized with annoyance and yet had never stopped smiling or waving to the crowd — with a cynical expression and sighed once again.

"Ay, I wish they could see the real you," He patted Kian's golden hair, shaking his own head in defeat, "I'm more the sidekick of a villain than a hero's."

Kian's frown deepened, slapping Fraser's hand away from his head, "Ambiguous words are neither helpful nor pleasing, Fraser. Stop speaking in metaphors."

"How unfortunate that I can't. I've learnt from the greatest con-man to speak in circles," Fraser laughed, giving Kian a pointed look which told him who this 'con-man' was. Then, he resumed waving at the crowd with a grin on his face while ignoring his General's frowning glare.

But before Kian could say anything to rebuke his petty craftsman-friend, the moving platform stopped, and — not only Kian and Fraser — but also the rest of the Expeditionary men ceased their chatting and laughing.

As if it were practised, each man stepped out of the cart, one by one, and stood in a long chain, with their right fist on their hearts — in salute — in front of the Leader of the Badr Clan, Bakar.

Bakar, the only man in the entire village who had the authority to wear the hide of an animal, stood proudly against his large stature, with a coat made from Bear-skin around his shoulders. He was a big man, with burly fists and a long beard. He wore a crown, adorned with the horns of an ox, and held a staff with the feathers from a phoenix. Yet, despite his overwhelming build, he wore a kind smile, and his eyes shined with aged wisdom.

"At ease, my brave sons," He addressed the six warriors, who stopped saluting and fell to his feet. "I am glad that you have returned safely."

"We thank you for your personal reception, Clan Leader," Kian answered for the entire group because he was their Aryan.

In response, the Clan Leader nodded, smiling with pride; Bakar had known Kian since he was a baby, and he was glad to see that the child was doing well and had grown to be a good man.

With gentle hands, uncharacteristic of his appearance, the Clan Leader made Kian stand from the ground.

"I wish to know everything about this kill," He said, smiling with delight, as he gazed at the dead albeit humongous body of the Alligator-monster, that sat atop the cart, with both a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Bakar was surprised that a young lad like Kian had killed such a beast. But internally praised the boy for doing well, by bringing the monster back with him.

Its bones were big enough to make tools, and its meat — although unedible as it had absorbed the magic and become rotten after the beast was killed — could be used for making manure for the crops. Even the claws and teeth were commodities that could be traded for coins.

With an ease that spoke of ancient patience, Bakar walked towards the monster's body and swiped its blood onto his hand. The blood was cold and sticky, but Bakar was pleased.

"People of Badr!" Bakar's voice echoed in the surroundings, as he addressed his clansmen, who surrounded him at all four sides, "Here you have our victorious six!"

At his sudden booming voice, that spoke of new achievements, the crowd of clansmen broke into merry applause and cheer for their heroes.

"These brave men, who fought with their lives against the monster of Lake Ur, shall all be rewarded handsomely! Each man's family shall receive two bags of wheat for their contributions to the Village!" Bakar announced.

The crowd hooted in agreement, while the men and their families broke into happy gasps at the prospect of receiving wheat — because unlike other crops, wheat was a luxury not known to many in the Clan.

Just like the type of clothes one wore, even the food one ate symbolized status. Barley was for the normal clansmen, while wheat and rice were eaten by those in the top-tiers.

Even the mere thought of owning such high society food made the men feel glad, that they were part of this expedition. However, unbeknownst to them, Bakar's announcement was not yet done.

"However!" Bakar continued, his loud voice shaking the people with a start. His eyes zoomed in on Kian, and he spoke, "Come forth Aryan!"

With an aloof face, Kian stepped forward, to stand right in front of Bakar.

"You — he, who is named Kian — shall not only receive the promised two bags of wheat, but also the title of Elvar!" Bakar finished, and his hand, which had previously been covered with the monster's blood, touched Kian's shoulders and forehead, smearing them crimson.

And for a moment, no sound escaped the mouths of the men.

'Elvar...'

From the ancient languages, Elvar translated into "hope." It was a title bestowed by the Clan Leader to the hero of the village. However, it had been years since the Badr clan had seen another Elvar.

Kian's eyes widened. Even though his expression generally remained aloof on-duty, he could not hide the shock and — God forbid — the mild conceit that swelled in his heart.

'Elvar...' He thought to himself, his eyes shining at his new name.

And just like he had realized the gravity of the situation, so did the other men and women. The entire clan suddenly began to shout out his name, "Ki—an! Ki—an! Ki—an!" They shouted at the top of their lungs while flinging their arms into the sky. The previous cheering seemed like a joke compared to the one now.

"It is my honour, Chief," Kian thanked Bakar and then turned towards the crowd.

He could see many people there.

First, he saw Fraser, who was grinning from ear to ear and giving Kian the thumbs-up. Then he saw some other men and women he knew, his neighbours, the grandma who often gave him candy tufts as a child, a few bold women who were giving him flying kisses...

... But it was only after a long time passed, that Kian found the people he was fervently searching for. Standing a few feet away, mixed in along with the crowd, was an elderly couple.

The husband, who seemed to be in his 30s, but whose actual age could be estimated from the mild wrinkles around his eyes, had a sturdy built, with honed muscles, and a head full of thick pale whitish-yellow hair. As far as Kian could make out, the man looked unsure whether he should be angry or happy, and stared at Kian with a conflicted gaze.

On the other hand, his wife, whose long brown hair was held in a braid at the side of her head, gazed at Kian with tear-stained eyes, that seemed to hold a repressed rage. Kian watched the woman, as her petite figure trembled and her eyes gleamed with unshed tears.

Unknowingly, Kian flinched, as his eyes met theirs.

'Right...' He thought, biting his lip. 'I almost forgot...'

Unlike his prediction of a festive welcome from his family, Kian stood, with shrinking shoulders, as he remembered what had happened before he left.

'... If you exist, please let me survive, Sir God.'

He prayed to some unknown deity, whilst watching the couple as the man crossed his arms and the woman only sobbed harder in his hold.