4. A place to call a home

Haugstad, Kingdom of Divinium, Eastern region of Rohana Federation, 2038 S.C. 87th day

After several rainy days, the skies cleared, and the warmth of the sun lured the children of Haugstad outdoors. Their laughter rang through the village as they chased after the last remaining puddles. On the porch of his cabin, Adel sat watching as they muddied their shirts, skirts, and shorts.

They are sure to earn scoldings from their parents later. Adel smiled at such a childish thought. For that moment, the burdens of years lifted, and he allowed himself to savor the simple blessings of village life.

More than two star cycles had passed since a stranger arrived in the village carrying a baby. That baby, Heron, had grown into a bright-eyed little boy. His fair skin glowed in the sunlight, and black curls framed a face full of smiles. The boy had been adopted by a young couple who had trouble having children of their own.

After the incident with the city council, a decision was made for Haran to leave the village and to seek help in Jamtara, which is the closest city to Haugstad. Since he was a citizen of another country, he’d still get proper care as if he were a citizen of Jamtara.

Haran decided that it would be best for Heron to stay and be raised in the village. He didn’t want to take a chance that he’d have another episode and hurt his son, or worse.

But as time passed, Haran didn’t reach out. Not a letter, not a messenger. After a while, there was a discussion in the council about what had happened to him. Adel had sent inquiries to the city of Jamtara, trying to find out the fate of the man who had entrusted his son to him. The city’s authorities, and even the church, offered no answers. City matters shouldn’t concern villagers, they had told him, a phrase as dismissive as it was final. Left to wander in the darkness of uncertainty, Adel often found himself questioning if he would live to see Haran again.

Each morning, he thanked the Creators for another day, fully aware that the days left to him were few. His strength was waning, and two cycles after Haran’s departure, Adel had stepped aside as village chief. The plenary had chosen Malcolm, a younger and steadier hand, to take his place. Now, his days were spent watching over the children while their parents toiled in the fields or ventured into the wild to hunt.

The children giggled as they splashed mud at one another. The snowy season had ended, and it had been a difficult one, so moments of children’s laughter were worth savoring.

But these moments were interrupted by a sharp, high-pitched, and alien sound. It pierced through the village like the wail of an unholy creature. Adel didn’t recognize the sound, but it was growing louder and closer. Fearful, he moved toward the children.

"Children, inside! Quickly now, everyone inside!" he called out, his voice trembling as he waved them toward his house. The children’s laughter faltered, replaced by hurried footsteps and concerned glances over their shoulders.

Then it came into view. A machine, unlike anything Adel had ever seen. It rolled on two large wheels, with a boiler-like structure at its center that spewed bursts of steam from rear pipes. The boiler seemed to connect the wheels, anchoring the contraption, and atop it sat a figure clad entirely in black. The figure wore a helmet that obscured their face, their gloved hands gripping what looked like horns; or so it seemed to Adel, who had never seen a steam motorcycle before.

Another contraption powered by magic. Will their appetites never end? Adel thought, frowning as the machine rolled into view. His scowl deepened as he studied its jarring presence. But his expression quickly shifted to surprise when the rider dismounted and removed their helmet.

"It’s good to see you again, old man," said the rider, their voice warm and familiar. Haran. Though his time in Adel’s life had been brief, the man was unmistakable. Even now, with longer hair brushing his shoulders and a clean-shaven face that made him appear almost boyish.

"You have some nerve bringing that monstrosity into the village. Of all the people, you should know better," Adel replied, visibly annoyed.

"I’m sorry, but I couldn’t leave it outside the village. If it were to be taken from me, I’d be in a lot of trouble." Haran said, stepping closer, his expression earnest. "Still, I’ll take your reprimands any day, Adel."

"Haran, you could have at least sent a letter. We villagers receive post, though I don’t know if you city-dwellers even know this. Not that city folk bothered to send us anything except decrees."

Haran smiled. "You’re right. I should have." But his smile quickly turned to sadness. "Unfortunately, I couldn’t. But I couldn’t. One of the conditions for saving my life was isolation. And there’s more to it than that. I’d like to explain everything, but perhaps over some mead. That is, if you’re still willing to spare a cup."

Adel nodded, his gaze lingering on Haran. "Fine. We certainly have much to discuss. Just give me a moment to tell the children they can go back outside. The sound of your machine made me think a monster was attacking."

Haran laughed at the remark. "Adel, I think you should visit the city sometime. Jamtara is far more tolerant of the villagers than Tiwaz ever was."

"Thank you for the offer, but this is where I belong," Adel said, his voice steady as he shuffled toward the cabin door. "And I am too old. Not that I would be interested in the city. This village is what I can proudly call my home, and it was always enough for me."

The children stared in awe at the peculiar machine, while Adel and Haran sat at a table on the porch. Standing in front of the porch was a guard, keeping watch, not so much over Haran but rather ensuring the safety of the Adel and the children.

"Are you sure it’s safe for them to touch that contraption? They won’t get hurt? The magic won’t harm them?" Adel asked, his tone laced with concern.

"Don’t worry," Haran said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small cylindrical device. He held it up for Adel to see. "Without this contact key, the catalyst is deactivated. There’s no way they can interact with the crystals inside."

"Good, good," he murmured. "I want to believe you."

"Trust me," Haran said, his voice softer now. "I know I haven’t earned it, not after everything that happened, but I’d never harm those children."

Then he glanced toward the playing children. "Speaking of children..."

Adel raised a finger, cutting him off. With his gesture, he directed Haran’s gaze toward a boy in the distance.

"It’s fine," Adel said calmly. "You can see him there, playing with the others. They’re looking after him."

Tears welled in Haran's eyes. "I’m glad," he said, his voice rough with emotion, "All this time, I worried about what would happen to him. So many thoughts ran through my mind, Adel, but knowing you spared my life, I knew he would be safe in your care".

"The boy has found his place here," Adel said, studying Haran carefully. "You've come to take him?"

Haran bowed his head, his shoulders trembling as he fought to suppress a sob. "No. Even if I wanted, I couldn’t. Please, let me tell you why I’ve been gone all this time."

"When Juri left me at the hospital, the medics took me in, but they didn’t understand my symptoms. Like you, they were astonished that I could use magic without a crystal, but they inevitably concluded that a crystal was somewhere inside me. So they subjected me to countless tests and, eventually, surgery. To make matters worse, the Church got involved. They uncovered everything about my case—everything except one detail."

Haran paused, his gaze shifting to Heron as the boy rejoined the other children, splashing happily in the puddles. Pride and pain mingled in his expression as he watched his son play.

"I told them everything, Adel. Every detail I know - except for Heron's existence."

"Strange," Adel said, leaning forward. "He's a citizen of the city, same as you. Why hide him?"

"Because that's exactly what I don't want for him."

Adel stared, more shocked by these words than he'd been when Haran had once begged for death.

"Does that mean you’ve finally started to see reason, Haran?" Adel asked, arching a skeptical brow. "Though, judging by that contraption you rode in on, I wouldn’t have guessed it," he added, his voice sounding light but ironic.

"No, but Adel, I still think you’re mistaken about some things," Haran said with a steady voice. "My stance from two years ago hasn’t changed. We’re not talking about extremes here. I still believe that the reasonable use of crystals can bring prosperity. But human greed... that’s what will destroy the cities."

"Consider this, Haran," Adel countered. "If the Creators chose to withdraw their gift of magic, your cities would crumble between one breath and the next, taking their citizens with them. Without your precious crystals, what are you?"

"That’s true," Haran admitted, his gaze dropping momentarily. "But the Church has its own interpretations."

"Ah, the Church." Adel's lips twisted in a bitter smile. "They see what they wish to see. Where I see prison bars in that barrier, they see divine protection. The crystals they claim as a gift from the gods, we see as a curse from the depths of the abyss. But perhaps we're both just blind men describing different parts of the same beast."

"Then let’s agree to disagree," Haran said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"So be it," Adel said. After everything that had happened, he still couldn’t fathom how Haran clung to his faith.

Adel’s next question came colder, creating more tension. "Then why do you want Heron to stay in the village?"

Haran’s head dipped slightly, his voice heavy with emotion. "Because I don’t want him to become an orphan. After the operation, they removed two spiritual crystals from my body. Adel, I had no wounds, no scars; there was nothing to suggest those crystals were ever inside me."

"The Church's representative was predictably outraged. He called it blasphemy and accused me of trying to elevate myself above human limits."

"Perhaps the only thing the Church and I have ever agreed upon," Adel said dryly.

"It doesn’t matter," Haran muttered, shaking his head slightly.

He took a moment, then continued in a clearer tone. "After the interrogation and investigation, they found no evidence to charge me with blasphemy. But they didn’t let me go, either. My life now came with a price. They seemed particularly interested in my past research, so to repay the city, they enlisted me into the church order."

"Yes," Haran admitted with regret. "But not like before. Never again like before."

"Well, then, I suppose the circumstances have improved. As far as I know, the Church has the resources and knowledge to refine crystals into tools. Didn’t you just praise their use for such purposes?"

"Adel," Haran began, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping to a confidential tone, "this stays between us. The Church’s understanding of crystals comes solely from experiments. They simply hide their failures better than most, parading successes while burying mistakes. They’re doing nothing I didn’t attempt myself."

Adel allowed a faint grin to cross his face. "I can’t say I don’t feel some peace knowing our ancestors truly made the right decision." Then his expression sobered. "But enough of this debate. Why have you really come? To bid farewell?"

Haran produced a leather pouch, offering it across the space between them. Adel's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"It’s all right," Haran assured him. "Consider it the first payment on an immeasurable debt. I’ll keep bringing supplies to support the village and make sure Heron never goes without food or clothing."

"And what of Heron himself? Will you tell him who you are when he is old enough? He was just a baby back when you left him, but he is growing up. Growing up with people who are not his parents, but they love him as if he were their son."

Haran’s shoulders slumped as tears started to slide down his face. He wiped them hastily with his sleeve. "I think it’s better if Heron doesn’t know about me. I’ll watch him from afar."

Adel stiffened, his face darkening with anger. He opened his mouth to shout, but was interrupted by a fit of coughing. He grabbed the mead, took a long gulp, and steadied himself.

"I won’t allow it," he said firmly. "The boy has a right to know he has a father who cares for him. You can’t run from that responsibility. If that’s your plan, then Haugstad's gates are closed to you for as long as I draw breath."

"Adel, please," Haran said, desperation lacing his voice. "I can’t take the boy with me. He’ll resent me, thinking I was willingly abandoning him to go live in the city."

"That is why you will tell him the truth when he is of an age that he can understand," Adel shot back. "You didn’t go through all this for your child to grow up not knowing there’s a father who loves him. He may hate you at first; he may not even understand. But we’ll explain it to him, as many times as it takes. The people who took him in, Martina and Agnus, it wouldn’t sit right with them knowing you made such a sacrifice."

Adel’s voice cracked with emotion, his usual composure slipping. He took another swig of mead, then continued. "In this village, we honor those who contribute to its welfare. At the very least, he'll learn to recognize that."

"Don't force either love or respect," Haran said quietly. "I'll accept whatever he feels. Just promise me he'll be cared for and educated."

Adel nodded, his sternness softening into a faint smile. "On that, you have my word. If I must, I’ll rise from my grave to make sure of it," he added with a rare twinkle of humor in his eyes.

Haran smiled warmly. "Listen, old man, it’s not your time for the grave just yet. My son needs someone like you. I’m sure the caretakers you’ve chosen are wonderful people, but I hope you’ll share some of your wisdom with him as well."

Adel raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. "You mean you don’t want him growing up and longing for the cities?"

"No," Haran paused, realizing the old man's words carried more weight than mere jest. "The only thing I ask is that you leave his mind open - about the cities, about the crystals, should he encounter them. When he’s old enough, let him choose for himself whether he wants to visit a city. After all, even in Jamtara, villagers come to trade, and some even take items crafted with magic."

"Fair enough. He’s your son. I won’t instill the idea that cities are bad places—that would only create resentment toward you as a city dweller," Adel replied.

Haran bowed slightly, his gratitude evident. "I knew you’d understand, Adel. In return, I'll help the village in other ways as well."

"I don’t like the sound of that. What are you planning?" Adel looked at him with narrow eyes.

"Relax," Haran said, holding up a hand. "No one from the village will be involved. I’ll hire adventurers to deal with the demons you mentioned, so you can focus on gathering and hunting during Nadia’s and Helmond’s seasons. I know you wouldn’t accept weapons imbued with crystals, but I hope you’ll accept help from those who use them. Unfortunately, I can’t do anything right now; even this visit was done in secret. But I promise help will come, and I hope to return soon."

"Thank you, Haran," Adel said after a moment. "That’s a compromise I believe Malcolm will agree with."

"Malcolm?"

Adel chuckled. "Yes, the plenary elected him the new chief. I’m just an old man now, living out his final days in peace. I stepped down and let younger blood lead the village."

Haran scratched the back of his neck, a small grin forming. "Things certainly have changed since I was here. Well, maybe the new village chief will be open to letting more of your villagers visit the city."

"We've never forbidden it. We still trade with the city, we just prefer if the traders come here, instead of us going there."

"And yet you seem vehement towards the notion of city technologies," Haran said, slumming his shoulders.

"I always put the needs of the village ahead of my personal grievances," Adel said. "But let us not debate about it today, though."

"You are right. And I should also get going. If this detour of mine continues, they’ll notice me missing. Thank you for everything, Adel. I truly mean it."

"No need to thank me. I’d just done what I felt was right. Though, before you leave, I do have one other request for you, Haran."

"Of course, just name it."

"Next time, leave that machine of yours next to the guard house at the village gates. I’d rather keep the children away from any technology that comes from the city."

"Ah, of course," Haran said, a sheepish grin forming. "I promise, no more magical contraptions in the village without the elder’s permission."

"Good," Adel replied, nodding.

They bowed to each other, and Haran donned his helmet. The shrill sound of the motor pierced the village air once more as he departed. Adel watched him disappear between the village's log cabins.

Settling back on his porch, he watched the children play again. What is wrong with using just horses and carriages? He wondered, the image of Haran's machine lingering in his mind.