A Hero's Strength (2)

CHAPTER 2 — Is it the Clan or your Family?

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After the welcome was over, and all the Badr men and women had dispersed from the streets, to return to their daily chores, Bakar approached Kian, who was still busy staring anxiously at the couple in the distance.

Perceiving this, Bakar smiled a sad smile. He could faintly guess what the matter was.

"Elvar Kian," Bakar addressed Kian with his new title, which immediately brought him back to the present from his thoughts. A bit disorientated albeit now alert, Kian turned towards Bakar with a dazed expression on his face.

"I do understand the predicament you are in, child. However, all will be well if you speak honestly. Love knows no bounds between rage and worry." Bakar spoke. His words held vast wisdom, and Kian did not need further explanations to understand what the Clan Leader was implying.

With a stiff bow, Kian replied, "Yes. Thank you, Chief. If you will excuse me..."

"Of course," Bakar readily excused Kian, "However, do not forget — you still need to tell me the story of your magnificent kill. I shall be waiting tonight in my Council house. Let us drink wine and speak of your brave endeavours, Elvar!"

"It will be my pleasure," Kian saluted to the Clan leader, by slamming his right fist to his heart.

"Well then." Kian continued, easing his salute, and turning around to slowly make his way to the couple in the distance.

Unlike the majority of the crowd, which had gradually left the area, the husband and wife still stood firmly in their positions. It was as if they were waiting for Kian to come towards them, in some silent protest.

As he neared towards the two, Kian's fingers quietly shivered. He was unaccustomed to seeing them so cross with him, and the mere sight of their angry expressions shook him.

"Uncle... Aunt..." Kian slowly greeted them, looking down with guilty eyes. "I am sorry..."

Kian clenched his fists and bit his lips. His eyes were closed as if he were in physical pain.

The mere sight of the esteemed Aryan, who had been graciously received by the clan previously, looking so small and distressed now, jolted the feelings of both the man and the woman.

Seeing Kian's expression, the man — who was Kian's Uncle — slowly relaxed the anger on his face. Instead, a helpless frown appeared between his eyebrows, and a sigh escaped his lips, for the more he watched his troubled nephew, the more his will to scold Kian disappeared.

On the other hand, the woman — Kian's Aunt — who had been sobbing hard, stiffened and watched the boy with a mix of disbelief and rage brewing within her. She was no longer worried and sad about her dear nephew's safety, but a newfound emotion jabbed at her heart.

"How could you be so insensitive!" The woman, whose name was Jamirah, yelled at her nephew.

She watched him, as he squirmed uncomfortably, and shouted with even more ferocity, "How could you take the expeditionary job, without so much as informing us about it?"

Another wave of fresh sobs broke past her lips, and she buried her face inside her hands.

The man beside her, her husband and Kian's uncle, whose name was Seymour, sighed. He placed his hands around his wife's shaking shoulders.

"What your aunt says is true, Kian..." Seymour spoke, staring intently at the youth before him, "I do understand why you hid it from us. We would have told you not to go; that it was too dangerous... but at the very least, you should have at least informed us before you left, so we did not have to find out your whereabouts from our wood seller."

Jamirah's head snapped up at Seymour's words, and her eyes glistened with angry tears as she added on, "That woodsman was singing your praises for having VOLUNTEERED! Gods, Kian... Do you reckon how shocked we were to find out such crucial information — that directly involved your whereabouts — your safety, in fact — from some stranger?!"

"I⏤" Kian began to explain, gulping his nervousness down, but his aunt interrupted him.

"And no, it is not alright, Seymour!" She stared at her husband, "How is it alright for him to hide such a thing from us? We are his family! He might as well be our own child!"

At her sudden bold words, Kian's own died in his throat.

He stared at the woman. The tears on his aunt's face were like proof of her love for him. Of course, seeing her angry and worried, made him feel apologetic, but a part of him also felt strangely warm. It was a wondrous thing, to have someone worry for you.

He absentmindedly smiled at his aunt, as she argued with his uncle.

"And you⏤" Jamirah yelled, suddenly turning to Kian with a glare, and he immediately straightened up and wiped the smile away from his face.

"How dare you sneak away like that without informing us?" Jamirah shouted, stabbing her finger in Kian's chest, "Do you know how much I've cried in the past two days that you have been gone? What if something were to happen to you, huh? What if you had died!"

Kian did not know how to reply, so he silently looked down at his shoes.

It was true... He had volunteered to be one of the expeditionary men, without talking or informing his guardians. And it was also true that he had gone without leaving any sort of way for them to know his whereabouts. Looking at the situation from their perspectives, Kian had been incredibly stupid. He should have at least left a note...

'You must have worried so much...' He stared at his Uncle and Aunt, as he apologized in his heart, 'I am sorry...'

"Why did you even take that damned job!" Jamirah continued to huff, seemingly breathless from her temperamental burst of emotions.

However, as she gasped heavy breaths, her anger somehow dissipated and another sob left her lips, as she softly muttered, "Why... in the name of Seven hells..."

Taking the chance, Kian did not miss a beat to answer.

"Because the village asked for me."

His defence was so simple and concise, so "righteous," that Jamirah's tears turned hostile once again. She snarled at her nephew who appeared to be too 'good' for this world but was actually just a simple boy, chained to the expectations placed upon him.

She clutched his shoulders.

"Why you—!"

She gritted her teeth, ignoring Seymour's hands on her back which were trying to make her relax. With her eyes wide, she gripped at Kian's beige tunic with a tight hold, and the next words she spoke sounded so pained as if she had been physically burnt in some part of her body.

"Why do those villagers always ask YOU? For Valor's sake, out of the 1200 residents, aren't there more able-bodied men in the village to do such things? We are not even from the Main family, and yet they dare assign you such hard tasks!"

She sobbed.

"And why, you foolish child! Why do you always heed their shameless requests? Why do you listen to them — and not to me? Why do whatever they want? What will happen to us then? I don't want to see my child in danger, i-shura!" She wailed, cursing at the end of her sentence and calling Kian a "stupid" person.

Seymour watched the exchange between his precious wife and wonderful nephew, with a conflicted expression. He felt like he was walking on thin eggshells. He had been just as angry with Kian in the beginning, but watching this sudden outburst from his normally genteel wife made him lose all his temper, and instead focus on calming her down.

He knew from experience, that Jamirah's anger was not something he wanted to put Kian through. But he was unaware of what to do in order to better the situation. Fortunately for him, he did not need to worry for much longer.

Kian gently kneeled on the ground and started to bow. As his forehead touched the ground near his Aunt's feet, he replied with a clear tone.

"Aunt... my dear Aunt... Just like you did not wish to see me in danger, I did not wish my family to be in danger. I went to the expedition because that beast threatened the safety of my family and my entire world..."

He looked up from his bow, straightening up and making eye contact with his frozen aunt, "My family is everyone in the village. But you two, you are my entire world."

After saying so, he pushed his hands onto the ground, still half-bowing.

"As a reward for my service to the Clan, I received two bags of wheat. Please accept them as my apology for disrespecting you and for not listening to you."

With this, he slowly got up. His head still hung low, he quietly waited for his Uncle and Aunt to make their judgment. Perhaps they would forbid him from fishing trips with Fraser for three moons, or perhaps they would take away his drinking privileges... but whatever his punishment would be, Kian knew that he probably deserved it, and much more.

In reality, Kian was a mischievous boy who wanted nothing more than to laze around all day every day. But after his talents in learning and fighting were discovered, when he was a mere toddler, the heavy shackles of responsibility had held him tight in place.

He knew he was not a part of this village.

His family had been one of the Eastern nomads, who wandered from place to place without any citizenship or ties to any particular land. Perhaps it was on a whim, or perhaps because they were too tired from their aimless travel, but decades ago, his family had decided to settle in Badr Village when he was a baby.

Probably because of this — that he was not truly a part of this village, Kian felt an obligation to contribute to the village's safety and wellbeing, in some way or the other. He felt that if he didn't do this, the clan would force his family to leave in a fit of rage, saying they didn't want to harbour useless dead weight.

With his aunt, who was too mild to step into the bloody battlefield outside the Village walls, or his uncle, who sported a mild limp that could only be discerned if paid close attention to, Kian was the only one capable of protecting them.

That was his duty, his responsibility, and his life's goal.

With his head still hung low, Kian felt the wisps of hopelessness hold him. He felt that due to his rough actions today, his only remaining family would shun him away.

Kian really did not want that.

But contrary to his thoughts, Seymour and Jamirah were standing still because of an entirely different reason than being mad at him.

It was because of his words — 'My family is everyone in the village. But you two, you are my entire world.' These words kept echoing in their minds, and an intense emotion swirled within their hearts.

Really... what more could they say to him?

Who could be angry after hearing such a confession?

They stared silently at their humble nephew, who was so naughty, that he always ended up playing with their hearts' strings using his heartfelt words.

"Gosh..." Jamirah sighed, bringing her hands to cup the face of her grown nephew, who still acted like a shy child sometimes. "You little devil..."

She brought him to a hasty embrace, and a new set of tears left her eyes.

"I am not mad at you. Well... not anymore." She shook her head inside his chest, as Kian was much taller than Jamirah, and when she hugged him, her head would only reach his shoulder.

From beside them, the silent Seymour nodded. With a gentle bearing, he joined Jamirah in hugging Kian, turning it into a triple hug.

"Oh, child..." He muttered, "You are far too loved for us to retain our anger for long."

As the hug was now whole, Kian took in a sharp breath, blinking confusedly. As far as he could tell, he was pressed on either side by his Aunt and Uncle. And although unusual, this wasn't a completely unfamiliar position.

When Kian was a child, being inside their arms had been a very normal occurrence, but since turning an adult he had not experienced it — that warmth which travelled throughout his body, making him feel as if he could be swallowed by their affection.

It wasn't unexpected that Kian was at a loss of what to do.

As he stood there, a bit shocked and a bit happy, he closed his eyes. He remembered the saying that one must enjoy moments as they happened, for moments were fleeting and only occurred when they actually came.

And so, the more he felt the warmth of their embrace, the more homely he became inside their arms. It was as if he were a child again, small, naive, and in need of protection.

'Perhaps I shall stay like this for a while...' He thought to himself and smiled as he returned their embrace.