A New Beginning

Karhen Rouz: A Miracle in the Wasteland or a Laboratory of Human Despair?

Twenty-five years have passed since the first colonists founded the oasis of Karhen Rouz—a place some called hope, while others saw it as a social experiment. Hundreds of people arrived here in search of a better life, but what they found was... [the rest is unreadable due to damage].

—Excerpt from an archived issue of the Prim Daily, 53rd day of Drydays, 381 years since the awakening of the werren.

Ked, Karhen Rouz Oasis

The morning scent of fresh laghota filled his senses, waking him from sleep. For a while, he simply lay there, inhaling the sweetly spiced aroma and listening to the voices drifting in from the kitchen. His father’s deep baritone mingled with Ela’s cheerful laughter. He couldn’t hear Reng—perhaps he was still asleep.

He rolled over to get up and groaned. The wounds from last night’s fight had set in overnight. His right eye was swollen shut, his fingers were puffed up, and sharp needles of pain shot through him with every movement. He already knew this would be one of those days when he’d have to pretend everything was perfectly fine, even though every breath would remind him of the beating he took.

In the kitchen, Noel cast him a suspicious look. Ked didn’t wait and immediately launched into his cover story:

"Yesterday was a really bad day on shift. The net fastenings snapped, and the whole thing came down on my head."

"This is the second time in the past few days," Noel frowned. "What did the foreman say?"

"Nothing," Ked lied without blinking. "I fixed it myself with the guys from the shift."

"I'll have a word with him," Noel muttered. "This kind of thing can’t keep happening. One day, it’ll kill someone."

"Leave it be. It’s handled," Ked brushed him off, but then his attention was drawn to Ela, who was stifling a laugh behind her cup of laghota.

"What’s so funny?" he growled at her, a flash of last night running through his mind. He could ruin her mood so easily right now. Ruin her whole life, even. But he didn’t. Not yet.

"Oh, I wonder," Ela giggled mischievously. "You look like someone beat the hell out of you."

Did she know? Ked hesitated, but then he decided to stick to his story.

"Do you even know how heavy those nets are? Or what it’s like when one comes loose and crashes down on your head? You have no clue, do you? But that sure doesn’t stop you from running your mouth. You’re still the same… No, scratch that. You’re worse. Guess life in Prim got to your head, and now you think you’re something special."

"Don’t be jealous," she shot back. "Not my fault that no one in Prim gives a damn about thickheads like you. And if you keep letting nets full of crap fall on that thing you call a head, don’t be surprised when there’s nothing left inside. Bet it made a real nice thud, huh?"

Ela leaned over the table and knocked on his head with mock malice. Ked jerked back, scowling at her. But before he could retort, she stuck out her tongue at him.

"Enough! Both of you, stop it!" Noel barked, exasperated by their endless bickering.

They fell silent, but Ked noticed the deep furrow on his father’s brow. And suddenly, it clicked. Maybe he’d just found a way to keep the promise he made to Gramps. All he had to do was push his father far enough, make him give up on them and leave. And if there was one thing Noel truly couldn’t stand, it was his children fighting.

Ked smirked to himself and glanced at Ela. She didn’t know it yet, but today, she would become his unwitting ally.

He settled into his seat and reached into the basket of fresh bukara roots. Breaking one in half, he bit into the sweet flesh while watching the scene at the table from the corner of his eye.

Noel had visibly calmed down again, focusing solely on his breakfast. Every now and then, Ela refilled his cup with laghota from an ornate kettle. She wasn’t eating anymore. Her perfectly manicured nails drummed impatiently against her empty cup. It was obvious she wanted nothing more than to leave, but until the head of the family finished his meal, they all had to wait. That was the rule.

Ked swallowed his bite and, out of nowhere, addressed his sister. "I heard things are getting pretty tense in Prim."

Ela looked up, caught off guard by the question. She hesitated for a moment before flicking a nervous glance at their father. Noel continued eating, seemingly oblivious to Ked’s words, though they all knew he had to have heard them.

"Maybe," she admitted cautiously, her tone making it clear she wasn’t eager for the conversation to go any further.

"Is it connected to that mess down south?" Ked asked, his voice casual, but his eyes gleaming with interest.

Ela nodded, still watching their father from the corner of her eye. She knew perfectly well that he disliked these kinds of discussions. Any talk about events beyond Karhen Rouz.

"Word is, Prim’s getting its ass handed to it for sticking its nose where it doesn’t belong," Ked smirked. "But rumors are just rumors. Maybe you know more?"

Ela shrugged. "How would I? I don’t even know what exactly you’re talking about."

"You don’t know? Not even a little?" Ked leaned back in his chair, clearly amused.

Ela rolled her eyes. "And what exactly am I supposed to know? If this is another one of your theories about how someone in Prim is making a profit at the expense of those who work with their hands, spare me. I’ve heard that one before."

Ked frowned. "You might know the story, but you don’t know reality. Because of all this chaos, we’re stuck working double shifts. If at least they gave us something useful for it, but instead, they’re sending us spongus. Everyone knows we barely use it because we’ve got nothing to pour it into. So now it’s just sitting in our storage, stinking up the place. How the hell is that fair?"

Ela raised an eyebrow. "And what, you can’t just sell it off?" Her question sounded more like an attempt to downplay the issue rather than actual curiosity.

"Of course we can, I guess," Ked admitted reluctantly.

"Then it seems fair to me," Ela stated, shrugging. "And don’t worry. Once this is over, everything will go back to normal, and you’ll get back to doing what you do best—kicking your own ass out of boredom."

"Fair?" Ked scowled. "How can you call this fair? None of us wanted this deal! The council arranged it, and no one even asked us. And what do we get out of it? Just more work and nothing worthwhile. How long do you think this can last?"

"I get that it pisses you off, and trust me, I don’t see it as an ideal solution either. But... ," Ela lazily shrugged, "this is the life you chose, isn’t it? You keep everyone else at arm’s length, and then you’re surprised when the world ignores you."

"Ela!" Noel’s voice suddenly changed. It was sharper, stricter than usual.

Ela froze, but her eyes flashed with defiance. "What did I say that was so wrong? It’s the truth!"

Noel stared at her, his face rigid. "I don’t like the way you think. And I don’t like what you’re saying."

"Maybe you just don’t like that I think at all?" she snapped, not realizing that her tone had already crossed the line.

"Enough!" her father thundered, pinning her in place with his glare.

Ela swallowed hard and lowered her gaze. She obeyed.

Noel sighed, slowly rising from the table. For a moment, he just stood there in silence. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet again, but firm. "Ked is right. You’ve lost your connection to your roots. Just as I feared when you left."

"Why?" Ela looked up at him urgently. "Because I don’t agree with everything you do here? Because I see further than the edge of this hole?"

Noel shook his head and turned toward the door. "I won’t ruin today with an argument. Today is a day of celebration. But tomorrow, we’ll talk about all of this."

Ela gave a silent nod, but Noel looked at her one last time and added, "Don’t test my patience."

"Yes, sir," she whispered, resigned.

"And now," Noel said as he turned to leave, "if anyone’s looking for me, I’ve gone to get some fresh air."

Ela silently watched her father walk away. Her face remained unreadable, but something heavy flickered in her eyes. Meanwhile, Ked lowered his gaze to his empty plate, hiding the way the corners of his lips curled in a hint of satisfaction. It worked. Because everyone knew exactly where Noel was headed.

Noel’s words about "fresh air" were well understood. He would now make his way to the cemetery, across the valley, where Seren lay. The only woman who had ever brought him to his knees. Twice. First, when he asked her to marry him, and again when the last handful of damp soil fell onto her grave. From that moment on, whenever Noel felt lost, that was where he sought answers.

Ked took a deep breath. Soon, their father would be out of the house. Now he had the space to finish what he’d started. Gramps would know what to do. Ked just had to wait for the right moment to tell him where to find him.

His thoughts were interrupted by movement at the door. When he saw Reng, he tensed for a brief moment. Tousled hair, wrinkled clothes, and the faint imprint of a pillow on his cheek all suggested he had just woken up. He stretched and let out a massive yawn before heading toward the table.

But when Reng’s eyes drifted to Noel, he froze mid-step. The old man stood in the doorway, his face rigid, his brow furrowed. Ked knew exactly what had caught his attention—Reng’s noticeably swollen lip and the bruise on his face, almost identical to the one Ked himself bore.

Without a word, Noel reached out and took Reng’s hands, inspecting them. The knuckles were scraped and swollen. Clear signs of a fight. Ked felt his throat tighten.

"Did you also get hit by a falling net?" Noel asked, his voice dangerously calm.

Reng shook his head, confused, not having the slightest clue what this was about. But his silence—and the awkward twitch of his hands as he tried to pull them away—only confirmed what Noel already knew.

Ked struggled to keep his composure, but his heart pounded wildly. Noel slowly turned to him, his gaze saying everything—disappointment, reproach, and questions he no longer needed answered.

"And you?" his father asked quietly. "Do you have anything to say?"

Ked only shrugged, his expression seemingly indifferent, but inside, unease gnawed at him.

Noel remained silent for a moment. The tension in the air was palpable. Finally, he shook his head, as if telling himself this wasn’t worth it.

“Take the kreliniaks to the kitchen,” he ordered Reng firmly. “And don’t let them shortchange you. Understood?”

Reng nodded, obedient as always. Ked rolled his eyes behind their backs. He hated Reng’s blind compliance, his complete lack of defiance. Worse still, his father often treated him like more than just a stray they had taken in. At times, it even seemed like he cared for him more than his own blood. But not today. Today, he was equally pissed at both of them.

Ked touched his swollen eye, a burning reminder of last night’s fight. For years, Reng had just taken everything he threw at him without much resistance. And yet, right now—at the worst possible moment—he’d suddenly decided to start causing trouble. And who paid for it? Of course, Ked. At least he had managed to land a few hits of his own.

When the door slammed shut behind Noel, Ked expected relief—but it didn’t come. The tension still hung thick in the air. He sat at the table, eyes locked on his empty plate, agitation simmering beneath the surface. His mind kept circling back to Ela’s meeting with Reng the night before. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have noticed there was anything between them at all.

Ela, still irritated from the earlier argument, absentmindedly sipped another cup of laghota. Reng, on the other hand, looked insufferably calm, slicing bukara root as if it were his life’s purpose.

And then Ked saw it. A tiny detail that confirmed his suspicions.

A bracelet dangled from Reng’s wrist—woven from colorful threads, leather straps, and shiny beads. Ela’s bracelet. He knew it well. For years, it had adorned her wrist, and now, it had become an unspoken message. Her mark. Her claim.

“Has Reng told you yet what father arranged with Lanis?” Ked asked into the silence, not even bothering to look up.

Ela glanced at him indifferently, while Reng scowled. Ked knew full well that the agreement between Noel and the head cook wasn’t something Reng had agreed to. But he hadn’t yet found the guts to challenge it openly.

“Lanis? That huge woman from the kitchen?” Ela asked, her voice perfectly feigning disinterest.

“That’s the one,” Ked replied with a smirk. “And it looks like Reng and her youngest daughter, Jara, will soon be a couple. It’s already signed.”

Ela’s eyes widened for a split second before her face twisted into a mischievous grin. “So, you’re about to be a taken man?”

“I have nothing to say to that,” Reng muttered, but Ela ignored his protest.

“Jara... that’s the skinny, shy one, right? Well, good on father for picking her for you. At least she won’t talk your ear off. Given how much you love conversation, I’d say you’re in for a very quiet household.”

"And, unlike the rest of the women in that family, she didn’t inherit her mother’s size," Ked added with a smirk. "So at least you won’t have to worry about her crushing you in your sleep."

For the first time in a long while, the siblings had found a common target. Instead of their usual bickering, they were now directing their mischief at Reng. But even his patience had its limits.

"I never asked for this," Reng growled angrily and pushed himself up from the table. Ela, however, was quick to stop him.

"Oh, come on, don’t be like that. We all go through it at some point, don’t take it so seriously."

"It’s not something you’ll ever have to deal with," Reng shot back sourly.

"Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Who knows what the future holds?" Ela shrugged, as if the whole thing was just a game to her.

Then she stretched, as if signaling that the conversation was over. "You know what? Since Father’s plans have changed, I’ll take the liberty of disappearing too. Hope to see you both tonight. I plan on making the most of the festivities before someone inevitably ruins it for me."

Ked watched his sister’s retreating back with envy as the gloomy atmosphere settled back into the dining hall. It was clear that Reng felt it too. His eyes were fixed on the bukara root, which he resumed cutting, as if the act itself could ease the tension.

He took a deep breath. There was no point in putting off the inevitable any longer.

"I think we need to talk about last night," he began, his voice uneven, thick with tension.

"Don’t bother," Reng shot back without looking up.

"I have to," Ked insisted, feeling his patience fraying. "I don’t think we really got a chance to clear things up…"

"And I think we made things perfectly clear," Reng replied, his tone unchanged. But his eyes betrayed the anger he was holding back.

"We didn’t!" Ked snapped, his voice breaking. He felt the pressure building inside him, as if every word was heavier than the last. His outburst was the only thing he managed to get out.

For the first time, Reng lifted his gaze with suspicion. He still seemed unsure of what to make of the situation. And yet, as he stared at Ked, the tension between them thickened. Ked could feel it—the moment where the balance shifted, where one of them would get the final word.

"We haven’t said everything," Ked repeated, this time quieter, but unyielding. "I admit I made a mistake. I lost my temper. But you have to admit you’re in this too. And now you’re smirking, maybe you think I’m full of shit, but it’s true. If you hadn’t threatened me, I wouldn’t have hit you. See? We both screwed up."

Reng remained silent, staring at him with an expression of anger mixed with distrust. But Ked knew he had to break the silence.

"You know what," he started again, trying to keep his voice steady. "I’ve been thinking a lot. Mostly about what you heard yesterday, and about what Father did to you. I’ve got a solution that might interest you. Promise me you’ll stay out of our way today, and I’ll tell Gramps to take care of your request first thing tomorrow."

"You can’t promise things Gramps has no control over," Reng frowned.

"You think so?" Ked smirked. But this time, it wasn’t a friendly smile—it was the grin of someone who knew he had the upper hand. "Trust me, Gramps has exactly as much influence as he needs. And this? This is nothing to him."

Reng didn’t respond. Slowly, he put away the knife and swept the remaining bukara pieces into a bowl. His movements were careful, controlled. It was clear he had decided to end the conversation. He stood up, his expression hard as stone.

"Shove your offers up your ass…" he muttered, making no effort to hide his disgust.

"At least I can say I tried to handle this nicely," Ked sighed. Then, he pulled out his trump card. "So tell me, where exactly should I shove what’s going on between you and Ela?"

The air in the room thickened instantly. Reng froze. His eyes hardened, but his face remained still. Yet Ked felt a nervous chill creep up his spine at his own words. He had never threatened anyone so openly before. And now, he had crossed a line he knew he could never step back from.

"See?" Ked continued, his voice quieter now, but sharper. "That’s sensitive information. But unlike you, I don’t just throw it to the first person who comes along. I’m offering you a deal. Your silence for mine. And something tells me you’ll take it."

Reng finally spoke, his voice low and firm. "Why would I?"

"Look," Ked shrugged, as if they were discussing something trivial. "I get that you don’t care. If this gets out, people will point fingers at you, then throw you out beyond the wall. What changes for you? Nothing, right? You want to leave anyway. But Ela…" He deliberately lowered his voice. "If this comes out, she can forget about ever going back to Prim. And what happens then? You don’t even want to imagine it. Humiliation, investigation. Do you think she could handle that? I know she couldn’t."

Reng’s face tightened. It was clear Ked’s words had hit him hard. Yet in his eyes, there was still a flicker of defiance.

"So, do we understand each other now?" Ked leaned in slightly.

Reng gave the smallest of nods. It was a movement that seemed to cost him every ounce of his strength. Ked noticed the faint tremble in his clenched fist, the barely restrained anger.

Ked straightened and smiled again. This time, it was victorious.

"You’re quiet, buddy, but I get it. You’re mad at me. But trust me, I don’t want to get you two into trouble. You’re family, after all. So I’m offering you a solution. Skip the festival tonight, go hide somewhere, and enjoy yourselves while you can. I’ll keep my mouth shut. And since it’s you, I’ll even ask Gramps to get you out of here. This could be your fresh start."

Reng didn’t reply. But his silence said more than words ever could. Ked watched him for a moment longer before getting up. Then, with a friendly pat on the shoulder, he added quietly, "Think of it as a challenge."

And with that, he walked away—feeling victorious, yet with the faintest whisper of doubt creeping in, a doubt he wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge.