“Not really,” Yori admitted.
Ren swallowed and looked at the floor. “Maybe your elven instincts will kick in,” he said.
Trella approached them and spoke quietly. “Meladee is refusing to see him off on his trip. She’s lying in bed crying, and she won’t listen to me.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Ren said, laying a hand on his wife’s shoulder. He hurried to the little girl’s bed to see if he could calm her.
“We’re all going to miss you,” Trella said. “Meladee is upset, but she’ll be alright. Ren is going to be lost without you. He thinks of you as his own son, you know.”
Yori was surprised to hear those words. He had never felt any special bond between himself and his uncle. Ren had never been one to show affection, and Yori had considered himself the man’s apprentice and nothing more. “He does?” Yori asked.
“Of course,” she replied, smiling warmly. “I know he’s not the warmest person, and he does like to yell at you when you mess up at the forge. That’s just how he is. Even if I bore him a dozen sons, he would still think of you as his eldest. He loves you, Yori. I do as well.”
Since his mother had passed away, Yori could not recall anyone telling him that he was loved. Until this moment, he had not missed hearing the words. His eyes began to fill with tears, and he reached an arm around his aunt, squeezing her tightly. She laughed softly and hugged him as well.
Releasing from their embrace, Yori looked up to see Ren holding Meladee. She buried her face in her father’s chest and refused to look at Yori.
He stroked the back of her dark hair and said, “I’m leaving, Meladee. Won’t you at least say goodbye?”
The girl squirmed a little, pressing her face harder against her father. She did not utter a sound.
Trella placed a hand softly on Yori’s shoulder. “She’s just too little to understand. She loves you, and I know she will miss you dearly.” She reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a dark blue knit cap. “I managed to finish this for you last night. It will help keep you warm as the weather gets colder, and it will also help hide your ears when you need to.”
Taking the cap, he said, “Thank you, Trella.” He brushed through his sandy hair with his fingers and placed the cap on his head. Since losing his headband, he had felt exposed. Everywhere he looked, he worried that people were staring at him and judging him because of his ears. Covering them once again, he felt a little more at ease. At his height, no one would guess he wasn’t fully human.
As he opened the front door, the sunlight rushed inside to greet him. The cool air brushed against his face and filled his lungs. Winter would be here too soon, and he would be homeless. Luckily, he had thought to pack an extra blanket. It was old and torn, but it was still capable of providing warmth. Reaching the door, he turned back to look at his family. “I hope I see you all again someday.”
“You will,” Trella said reassuringly.
Handing Meladee to her mother, Ren grabbed Yori and hugged him tightly. Yori was surprised by the gesture but accepted it wholeheartedly. “Safe journeys, Son,” Ren said. “You take care of yourself out there and come back to us.”
Yori nodded and smiled nervously. He patted Meladee on her back and said, “Goodbye, Meladee. I’ll miss you.” Again, she did not reply. Her sobbing was barely audible as she continued to press her face into her mother’s shoulder.
Not wanting to prolong the goodbye, Yori turned and walked quickly to the edge of town. He intended to travel along the road and follow the merchants that were leaving to peddle their wares in Al’marr. Perhaps one of them had work he could do in exchange for a little companionship on the road. Though he had so far only traveled once, Yori knew just how lonely the road could be.
As he reached the road, he sighed with relief. Several merchant wagons were heading south this morning. One elderly merchant had paused on the road to tighten the ropes holding his load in place. Two reddish-brown mules brayed impatiently as their master fiddled with the ropes. Yori gave the man a friendly wave as he approached. The bald old man glanced up and nodded.
“Could you use some help?” Yori asked.
“Sure could,” the man replied. “These old fingers just don’t work the way they used to. Damn ropes won’t cooperate either.”
Yori chuckled and pulled at the ropes. Giving one sharp tug, he secured the blanket over the load and tied off the ropes.
“You’ve got some strong arms there, young man. You heading down south?”
“I am,” he replied.
“I’d be glad to have you along to the markets.” The old man extended a hand for Yori to shake. “Name’s Atti,” he said. “You’ve got a real strong grip there,” he commented, pulling his hand away from Yori.