(Kairo's POV, Age 6-7)
I woke up to the sound of Alina Greya my mother humming, the familiar tune that always made me feel safe. The warm light from the sun filtered through the cracks in the wooden walls of our small house, casting long shadows across the floor. The air smelled like bread baking in the oven—one of the best smells in the world—and the earth, fresh from the night's dew. I could feel the day already starting, the world slowly waking up.
My eyes stayed closed for a little longer, just listening. The air was quiet, peaceful—except for the steady rhythm of my father's footsteps outside. I knew he was already in the fields, working hard as he always did. I felt a little tightness in my chest when I thought about it. His shoulders were always hunched, and his hands… they had rough, callused patches from working the soil all day. It made me want to run outside and offer to help, but I wasn't strong enough. I wasn't like him—not yet.
I could feel it in the air, though. One day, I would be.
I got out of bed, the wooden floorboards cold under my bare feet, and I shuffled over to the small window. I could see my father John Greya in the distance, pushing the plow across the field. He was moving slow, but steady, the same rhythm I saw every day. The sun hadn't fully risen yet, but it cast light over everything.
He looked like he belonged out there, like the earth itself had mold his shape. I loved watching him, even though I didn't fully understand it. It wasn't the kind of love that was loud or full of words—it was just a quiet, deep feeling that settled inside of me every time I saw him like this.
I pressed my face against the cool glass. The wind from the field ruffled my hair, and I breathed in the fresh air. It was peaceful out there. So peaceful.
I thought about the day when I'd be big enough to help him, to take over the heavy plowing, maybe even protect him from the sun's heat. I wanted to be able to make him smile without the tiredness in his eyes, make my mother stop worrying about him working himself to the bone. I wanted to be the kind of person who could change things, who could give them both something better than the endless days of hard work.
But I wasn't there yet. I wasn't strong enough.
"Kairo, what are you doing by the window?"
I turned to see Alina Greya standing in the doorway barely wide enough for her to stand there, her smile soft but a little tired, like she always looked when she wasn't working in the kitchen. Her apron was dusted with flour, and her hair, though still beautiful, had some strands that were already going grey from years of care. I could feel the weight of the years she'd carried, just like my father's
"I was watching Father," I mumbled, trying to sound like it wasn't bothering me. But it was. I didn't want to see him like this anymore.
She walked over and stood beside me, looking out at my father through the window there. "He works very hard, doesn't he?"
I nodded. "He's strong."
"Yes, he is." She gave me a soft look, her voice tender. "And you will be, too. One day, you'll be able to help him. Maybe you'll even be able to help me too."
I could hear the quiet hope in her words. It made my chest feel tight again. I wanted to believe it—I wanted to believe that one day I could do all those things I dreamed of.
One day, I would have power. Not just the kind of power where I could help with plowing fields, but the kind of power I'd read about in the books, I loved so much. The books that told stories of great heroes who were chosen by the gods themselves to wield incredible strength. Power that could save people. I would be like them. Like the Valiant Vanguard.
"I want to be strong like Father," I said quietly, pressing my hands against the window. My reflection was small, just a child, but I imagined what I'd look like when I was older—taller, stronger, the wind at my back, the same way the gods had granted strength to the heroes.
Alina Greya smiled softly and ruffled my hair. "You will be. Just remember, power doesn't come easy. But it always comes to those who work for it."
Her voice was full of warmth, but there was a hint of something else—something I couldn't quite place. It wasn't fear. Maybe it was just… wisdom? A kind of knowing.
"I will," I promised, even though deep down, I was already starting to wonder if I would really be able to do it. If the gods would really choose me. Or if I was just a boy, wishing for things he couldn't have.
We stood there for a while in silence, just watching my father work. His movements were slow, but they held a rhythm, a sense of purpose that I couldn't help but admire. I wanted to be strong like him, but I didn't want to spend my life just… surviving. I wanted to be someone important. Someone who could protect the people I loved. Someone who could change things.
But that was a dream. And dreams, sometimes, didn't come true...
As the day moved on, Kairo followed his Alina Greya into the small kitchen, where the fire still burned low. The scent of hot bread filled the room, and he sat at the rundown wooden table, eager for breakfast, as his mother worked. His younger sister, Sarina, was already there, quietly picking at a piece of fruit. Kairo admired how she could always stay so calm, so patient. She never seemed to worry like he did. He often envied her ability to stay grounded and oblivious.
Sarina looked up at him, her dark eyes twinkling with the quiet intelligence that always seemed to flow effortlessly from her. "What were you doing by the window?" she asked, as if she already knew the answer.
"Watching Father," Kairo said, taking a small piece of bread and tearing it into smaller pieces. "I want to help him, but I don't know how. I'm not strong enough."
Sarina tilted her head, her braid falling over her shoulder. "You'll figure it out," she said simply, with the same calm certainty that always seemed to come from her. "Maybe one day, you'll have the powers you read about in your books, who knows my big brother might become a part of Valiant vanguard our protector's." She said with nearly childlike enthusiasm and awe beneath her stoic, intelligent demeanour.
Kairo smiled faintly, the thought of divine powers always lifting his spirits. But today, something felt different. The weight of the words hung in the air. Could he really make a difference? Could he ever be strong enough?
As they ate, their father came in from the fields, his shirt soaked with sweat. His smile was tired, but it was still there. He kissed Alina Greya on the cheek, ruffled Kairo's hair, and sat down to eat. It wasn't much, just a simple meal of bread, fruits, and the last of last night's stew, but it was enough.
As Kairo watched his family, something settled in his chest—a feeling he couldn't describe. Love, yes, but also an overwhelming sense of responsibility. He didn't know how yet, but one day, he would find a way to change things. He would protect his family.
I took a deep whiff of the nice hot soup infront of me from last night's dinner. Smelt like rabbit and potatoes, the usual boiled ingredients cheap but fills the stomach, delicious. I thought to myself. My little sister on the other hand not so much, she hated rabbit especially in stew. She whined as usual.
"Agh this is disgusting, Father do I really have to eat this?" Sarina said with her usual straightforward speaking slightly whiny in tone with her repulsed look.
John Greya just sighed a small smile on his exhausted face from working in the fields with his earth power's, sweat still running down his face and chin slowly. "Yes, Sarina. You have to" He said as Alina Greya just giggled slightly seeing the usual bickering at each meal.
My eyes drift towards my Father's exhausted form feeling slightly worried wanting to help out. "Father? Could I help you in the fields? Im big and strong" I said flexing my right bicep, the lack of muscles betraying my enthusiasm and ability for helping out.
My father let out a soft sounding chuckle alongside Alina stiffling it slightly with a hurried scoop of rabbit stew into her mouth. "I think it's best to wait a few years son." John said chuckling softly. My little sister on the other hand not so good at sugarcoating things.
Sarina having now forgotten all about the stew just laughs in a more amused and playful mocking tone "Y-You call that M-Muscles big brother?" She said trying desperately not to break down in laughter.
my face contorted into a frown but didn't try to defend myself not wanting to be outsmarted by my little sister yet again. I mumble a response under my breath annoyed. "Like your one to talk." I said as as I grabbed my arm's to see if she was actually right. Slightly embarassing, altough I would never admit it she was definitely right my arm's were thin as toothpicks no muscles buldging out like I had imagined.