V1.C20. The Weight of Tradition

Chapter 20: The Weight of Tradition

Renji stepped into the soft light of the morning, the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds enveloping him like a familiar embrace. The air was crisp, infused with the earthy scent of dew-kissed grass. He made his way toward the bison pen, where the gentle giants grazed lazily, their massive frames swaying as they munched on the verdant greenery. Today, he would tend to them, but he had more on his mind than just their care.

With a practiced ease, Renji reached for a handful of feed, the grains slipping through his fingers like grains of sand as he approached the closest bison. Its eyes, warm and gentle, regarded him with a mix of curiosity and familiarity. "Hey there, buddy," he murmured, kneeling down beside it. He began to scatter the feed on the ground, watching as the bison lowered its massive head to munch on the offering.

As he worked, a few younger students wandered over, their faces flushed with excitement. They could barely be ten years old, their laughter and energy a sharp contrast to Renji's serious demeanor. "Renji! Can we help?" one of them asked, a boy with a tuft of black hair and bright eyes.

Renji looked up, a faint smile breaking through his stoic expression. "Of course. I could use some extra hands." He gestured for them to come closer. "Today, I'll show you how to care for the bison. It's important that we treat them well; they're our friends and allies."

The children gathered around, their attention fixed on him as he instructed them on how to properly feed and groom the bison. "You have to be gentle," he explained, demonstrating how to stroke the bison's neck, the rough texture of its fur a reminder of its strength. "They respond to kindness, and if you treat them well, they will trust you."

The children watched intently, some mimicking his movements, their small hands reaching out to pet the bison. Renji felt a warmth in his chest as he witnessed their unadulterated joy. He took a step back, observing them with a fondness that came from years of experience and a longing for a simpler time.

Just then, Elder Tenzon approached, flanked by two other elders whose brows were furrowed with concern. Renji straightened, sensing the shift in atmosphere. "Renji," Tenzon called out, his voice steady yet cautious. "We need to speak with you. In private."

Renji glanced at the children, who were now engrossed in their own game of chase with the younger bison. "Alright, kids. Go play with the bison for a while," he instructed, watching them scamper off with delighted squeals. He turned his attention back to the elders, a knot of apprehension forming in his stomach.

The elders led him to a shaded area away from the grazing bison, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves casting intricate patterns on the ground. As they settled down, Tenzon took a deep breath. "Renji, we're concerned about what you've been teaching the older students."

Renji's expression hardened. "They need to know how to protect themselves. The world isn't as safe as it once was."

One of the other elders, a stern-faced man with a gray beard, shook his head. "But deadly techniques? Those go against the teachings of the temple and our traditions as Air Nomads."

Renji crossed his arms, his patience wearing thin. "Those teachings have left many of our people vulnerable. Just weeks ago, we lost good students in a bandit attack. If they had known how to defend themselves, they might still be alive."

Tenzon's gaze softened, but he remained resolute. "We have upheld our ways for centuries. We cannot stray from them now, not when our beliefs have guided us through countless trials."

Renji's frustration boiled over, the fire of his passion igniting his words. "The world has changed, Tenzon! We can't cling to these outdated traditions while dark spirits roam the land again. Wan changed the fate of the world, but his legacy isn't just about peace. It's about adapting to survive!"

The elders exchanged glances, the weight of Renji's words hanging heavy in the air. "You are young and full of fire, but this isn't just about you," another elder replied, his voice edged with concern. "The teachings of our ancestors carry wisdom we must not forget."

"Wisdom?" Renji scoffed. "What good is wisdom if it doesn't keep our people safe? The outside world doesn't care about our traditions! They will take advantage of our naivety."

"Calm yourself, Renji," Tenzon urged, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his own unease. "Anger will not solve our problems."

But Renji could no longer contain his emotions. "I will not watch any more of my students die because of the naïve teachings of the old world! We must prepare them, give them the tools to defend themselves and protect the innocent."

The elders fell silent, their expressions a mix of concern and disbelief. Renji's heart raced, a mix of adrenaline and despair coursing through him. He had fought too hard to watch their teachings put lives at risk.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice low but firm. "But I refuse to let tradition blind us to the reality of our world. If you can't see that, then you're living in a dream." With that, he turned sharply and stormed off, leaving the elders in stunned silence.

As Renji walked away, his mind raced with thoughts of the bandit attack, the faces of his fallen students haunting him. He felt the weight of his responsibility press down on him like a heavy cloak, and with each step, he resolved to make a difference, no matter the cost.

---

In a small room not far from the bison pen, Yoan lay unconscious on a cot, the room dim and quiet. His breathing was slow and steady, a rhythmic pattern that belied the turmoil within his mind. The lingering effects of the herbs used to calm his body after the seizure still held him captive in the depths of sleep, a dreamless state where memories swirled just out of reach.

A gentle rustling disturbed the stillness, and as if drawn by an invisible thread, his consciousness began to stir. He felt the warmth of sunlight spilling into the room, painting the walls in golden hues. With a slight groan, he shifted, the heaviness of his limbs slowly dissipating.

As he opened his eyes, the world around him came into focus, and there, seated beside him, was Kaiya. Her expression was one of deep concern, her brow furrowed as she watched him awaken. "Yoan?" she whispered, a tentative smile breaking through her worry. "You're awake!"

He blinked against the brightness, trying to adjust. "What happened?" he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. Memories flickered like fireflies in his mind, vague yet poignant. The bandit attack, the chaos, the screams—they danced just outside his grasp.

"You had a seizure," Kaiya explained softly, her hand brushing against his. "We were so scared, but you're safe now."

A sudden rush of clarity washed over him, and he struggled to sit up. "I remember... the attack." His eyes widened as the memories flooded back. "The bandits... they were after us. They... they hurt people, didn't they?"

Kaiya's gaze dropped, the weight of the truth pressing heavily between them. "Yes, but you're okay now. That's what matters."

"No, it isn't!" Yoan insisted, his voice rising in urgency. "We can't just ignore what happened. We need to do something!" His heart raced as the memories crystallized into painful awareness. He remembered the chaos, the fear, and his own helplessness.

Kaiya leaned closer, her eyes searching his. "Yoan, you're still weak. You need to rest."

But he shook his head, pushing against the sheets as he struggled to rise. "I can't just sit here. I have to help—"

"Yoan!" she interrupted, her tone firm yet gentle. "You need to take care of yourself first. We can't fight a battle when you're not well."

For a moment, he faltered, the weight of her words pressing against his resolve. But beneath the surface, a fire ignited. "I can't forget what happened," he murmured, a determined spark igniting in his eyes. "I remember what happened, Kaiya. I won't let it happen again."

Kaiya's expression softened as she leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper. "I believe in you, Yoan. But you need to be strong for us to move forward."

With that, Yoan took a deep breath, grounding himself in her presence. "I remember everything. And I won't forget."

As he spoke those words, a wave of determination washed over him, solidifying his resolve. The path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he would face them head-on, fueled by the memories of those they had lost.

And with that, the chapter closed on their conversation, the air thick with unspoken promises and shared burdens, leaving the echoes of their resolve hanging in the quiet room.

[A/N: Read 5 chapters ahead available on patreon.com/saiyanprincenovels]