Returning home, Theo was somewhat surprised at his parents' too-early appearance. At the right time, Bran and Elara shouldn't return until evening.

  Mr. Bran smiled triumphantly at his son's momentary surprise—a rare thing:

  "Father asked the old friends for a bit," his eyebrows relaxed with pride at having friends always ready to help. "Today, we have a feast that can't be missed, right?"

  He winked at Theo.

  A light scent from burnt oats and dry nuts crept into Theo's nose. Looking into the kitchen, he saw Mother and Sera's busyness. He immediately guessed what the unmissable feast was: a surprise farewell party.

  Theo silently didn't answer Father, but a faint smile traced his lips as a flicker of warmth touched his heart.

  The atmosphere in the house was full of hurry but warm. Mother Elara was ordering the twin rascals to prepare bowls and dishes, ensuring they didn't cause more trouble. Sera was sitting before the oven, staring fixedly at the loaf in the oven, as if her gaze alone could regulate the heat. The little girl had adapted very quickly to her new position as household chef. Though Sera's face was somewhat smudged with dust and flour, the little girl's eyes were extremely focused, showing absolute seriousness toward her task.

  This was precisely the most wonderful farewell party the family could devote their whole heart to for him.

  Dinner quickly progressed with each member's help. It wasn't expensive like wealthy merchant feasts, nor majestic with many servants like powerful nobles. But it was full of spiritual sweetness in each member's warm gathering.

  Elara and Sera placed on the table large baked loaves: Acorn Loaf. This was Oakhaven town's characteristic bread, made from oat flour and finely ground acorns—abundant forest ingredients—mixed with dried fruit and honey. The honey, oat and acorn scent intertwined, rustic and rich, carrying Oakhaven's familiar taste.

  More than just food, this loaf also carried legend within. People told that when Oakhaven was still a small hamlet, the great warrior Jorn had departed from here at only fourteen years old. He didn't bring armor, no weapons; he only carried on his person the single loaf his mother made: Acorn Loaf.

  That legend's foundation had formed the custom of Jorn's Rite. At this time each year—roughly half a month later, after spring forest harvest ended—all fourteen-year-old youths would participate in the ceremony. From then, they officially matured, having the right to choose the path they'd chosen, though perhaps thorny, troubled, even foolish, but also possibly opening a glorious future no one could know.

  All participants received from mother or sister, even if orphaned then villagers were also willing to give them an Acorn Loaf. The loaf represented provisions ready, was a spiritual summons: "Forward, warrior!" They'd matured, like Warrior Jorn long ago had stepped onto the challenging journey.

  And tonight, though The Rite of Jorn hadn't yet arrived, the Acorn Loaf had appeared on Theo's plate. This loaf, carrying each family's special style—had been modified for the ceremony day to be easier to eat, softer and much more fragrant than the dense and hard ration type Jorn had carried long ago.

  However, though flavor had changed, the loaf still carried all the deep affection mother and little sister held for Theo. It was a soundless blessing and assurance that, wherever Theo went, he always carried Oakhaven's love and steadiness.

  Not too many embellished words, the loaf was simply overflowing with blessings, steadfast trust. It was hope that Theo, the sturdy bird, would find his way back after dangerous expeditions, like hero Jorn had returned to settle and rebuild small Oakhaven town after his great journey.

  Under warm lamplight, the family dined together, enjoying peace before tomorrow's great storm.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  After absorbing Mana, Theo tossed and turned on his straw bed in his loft. Just as he'd predicted, tonight was a long night.

  Though his mind was dizzy from mental exhaustion after the training process, worries about the future and lingering sadness at leaving warm family still kept him awake. Theo sat up gently; he didn't want to wake Al already peacefully asleep on the old chest.

  Gazing at the night curtain, worries about the chosen path along with questions and lessons from Vesper just circled in his head. Though Theo was confident his and Liam's value and potential in the recent test could satisfy the most demanding captains—an extremely valuable investment asset—questions sometimes still appeared, piercing through his logical defense layer:

  "What if Vesper acts?"

  "What if we can't escape?"

  "What if..."

  This was also his weakness, sometimes unable to control negative thoughts—things Theo always tried to suppress with reason.

  Suddenly, he spoke softly, voice whispering into the indefinite space in the loft:

  "G, am I worth investing in?"

  G didn't answer with comfort, but with serious voice, ringing like a direct data notification in Theo's mind:

  G's voice softened, just slightly.

  "This path carries inherent risk," a measured pause. "But it will remain internally consistent. That alone makes it worth seeing through to the end."

  "Continue forward, young man. You are worth the investment. Keep being true to your human nature."

  G's assessment helped Theo feel his inherent confidence again. Not because of dry statistics or comfort; it was simply Theo recognizing once more that he wasn't at all alone.

  Though the upcoming journey was fraught with danger, beside him were still Liam, Al and even G. Theo closed his eyes. He knew that: there were always allies fighting shoulder to shoulder.

  That small warmth dispelled lingering sadness. His heart quieted again, and physical fatigue finally prevailed.

  Theo lay down, pulling the straw blanket over himself. The long night had been shortened. He needed to rest.