The late afternoon sun dipped low, turning the dirt paths gold as the village slowly wound down. Ray sat on the fence again, idly kicking his heels while humming something Nora always sang while cooking. A couple of kids waved at him as they ran past; he gave a small, polite nod back — nothing big, nothing dramatic, just Ray being Ray.
A few feet away, the villagers were doing what villagers do best: talking.
"He's a good boy, that Ray," old Maren said as she adjusted a basket on her hip. "Always helps carry water for Nora. Polite as anything."
"Well, polite, sure," muttered Berto, the man who always had something to gossip about. "But he's… strange. Quiet. Like he's thinking things kids shouldn't be thinking. You ask him what games he likes and he stares at you like he's reading your soul."
"Oh hush," Maren snapped. "He's thoughtful. Not weird."
Across the road, Kael leaned against a post, arms crossed, listening with half an ear. His friend Joren — a big, loud guy with a sword scar across his chin — clapped him on the back hard enough to rattle teeth.
"So," Joren said with a grin, "when are you teaching the kid to swing a sword? Can't hide him from it forever. You were already training at his age."
Kael huffed a small laugh. "He's five, Joren."
"And? Better to start early! Kid's sharp. And he's got your glare."
"That is not my glare," Kael protested, though he sounded suspiciously proud. "And I'll teach him when he's older."
"How much older?"
Kael scratched his jaw. "Ten? Eleven? When the sword weighs less than he does."
Joren snorted. "Soft. Nora's making you soft."
From inside the nearby house, Nora's voice floated out like a thrown knife. "I HEARD THAT."
Joren flinched. Kael smirked.
Ray looked over at them curiously, his expression a mix of fondness and exasperation, the kind only a kid who actually cared about his family could make. Kael caught his eye and gave him a faint smile, jerking his chin toward home.
"Come on, Ray. Dinner."
Ray hopped off the fence and jogged over, slipping naturally into pace beside Kael. No guilt in his eyes, no weight dragging at his steps — just a quiet acceptance and a small, warm piece of calm. His world wasn't perfect, but it was his.
And the villagers watched him go, each seeing something different.
But Kael and Nora?
They just saw their son.
Dinner was simple tonight — vegetable stew, fresh bread, and that little herb mix Nora always added that Ray secretly thought tasted like sunshine. They sat together at the small wooden table, the lantern flickering gently above them.
Ray dipped his bread into the stew, then looked up with that thoughtful little frown he got whenever something lingered in his mind too long.
"Mother…Father ," he said quietly, "how come I never met any of my grandparents? Or… any relatives?"
Kael froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth.
Nora shot her husband a quick look — one Ray didn't fully catch, but he noticed the tiny stiffening in Kael's shoulders. He felt like he'd poked something sensitive.
Nora gently set her spoon down. "Sweetheart, why the sudden question".
Ray waited, eyes shifting then answered. Nothing much just curiosity. But Kael's jaw tightened bit by bit.
"Well," Nora began softly, "I wasn't originally from this village. I lived in a place not too far from here… but many years ago, something terrible happened."
Ray's eyes softened as he listened.
"Our village was attacked. Many people died. My parents, my uncles… everyone. Only a handful of us survived." Her voice stayed calm, but her fingers laced together tightly. "Kael was one of the soldiers sent to help. He pulled me out from under a collapsed roof."
Kael cleared his throat. "She was stubborn even back then."
Nora elbowed him lightly with a sad smile. "And he was reckless. He nearly broke his arm carrying me."
Ray let out a small laugh, and the tension at the table eased a bit.
"So you… fell in love after that?" he asked.
Nora nodded with a soft smile. "Eventually. He kept visiting. I healed. And somehow… we ended up here, making our own little family."
Ray smiled back at her — warm, genuine. It made Nora's eyes shine just a little.
But Kael was still silent, his spoon stirring stew that didn't need stirring.
Ray didn't push. He knew Kael's mother — his grandmother — died long ago. Nora had told him that much in passing. But Kael's father? Nothing. Not a word. It was like a page missing from a book.
Still… Ray let it go. Every Families had their own shadows. His had his own, too.
Nora reached over and brushed Ray's hair back. "You have us. And that's enough."
And Ray — for once without hesitation — nodded.
"Yeah… it is."
Kael looked up then, meeting Ray's eyes. Something complicated flickered there — guilt, protectiveness, maybe even fear — but under all of it…
Love.
Real, quiet, ordinary love.