The next morning, Torya rose before the fire had burned down to ash. His body still carried the memory of yesterday's labor, but the cool undercurrent of Smoldering Ember steadied him. After a quick stretch, he called out to the youths who had joined him on the last hunt.
They gathered around him, still groggy but eager, their crude spears and stone-tipped tools in hand. Torya let his gaze sweep over them, remembering each face, each pair of hopeful eyes.
"We're going out today," he began, his voice calm but firm. "Not just for meat we'll need herbs as well. Last hunt, I received some basic knowledge about plants, and it could help us more than we realize."
The youths exchanged curious looks. One of them, a lanky boy with restless hands, frowned slightly. "Herbs? You mean the ones women usually gather?"
Torya nodded, unbothered. "Yes. But it's not just about healing. Some herbs keep bugs away. Others can help us preserve food longer. If we're going to build up our storage, we need more than just meat."
An older youth with broad shoulders chuckled. "So we're hunters and gatherers now, eh?"
"Exactly," Torya said with a small grin. "The more we know, the less we waste."
A few of them nodded in agreement, their initial hesitation fading. Spears were tightened in hand, stone blades checked. The group's mood lifted as they realized they weren't simply going out to fight for food—they were learning how to survive better.
"Stay sharp," Torya reminded them as they prepared to set out. "Game, herbs, whatever we can use we bring it back. Today, we hunt for more than just our bellies."
They stepped once more into the ancient forest, its towering trees casting long shadows across the mossy ground. The air was thick with the scent of earth and leaves, but this time, Torya noticed something different. His companions looked more prepared each youth carried two wooden spears and one stone-tipped spear, their grips firm, their steps more assured than the last hunt.
Torya let his gaze drift to his own weapon. The steel-tipped spear, simple yet sharper than anything the others held, gleamed faintly in the dappled light. A quiet sense of pride stirred in his chest. It wasn't much compared to the weapons of his past life's world, but here, it was a treasure.
As they moved deeper, the forest revealed its hidden offerings. Torya spotted clusters of herbs along the path broad-leafed plants that could soothe cuts, small flowers that dulled pain, and bitter stems that eased hunger when boiled. He made a note to collect them later, pointing out the most useful ones to the youths as they passed. Their eyes lit up at the thought that plants could be just as valuable as meat.
Every so often, small creatures darted through the underbrush. A pair of horned rabbits froze long enough for Torya to signal silence, but the group let them go there was no need to rush. They had time, and today's hunt was about learning as much as taking.
By high noon, the heat pressed down on them like a heavy cloak. Sweat beaded on brows, and breaths grew heavier. Torya led them to the base of a massive tree whose roots coiled like resting serpents. The shade there was deep and cool, a welcome refuge.
They dropped their packs and leaned their spears against the bark, settling into the grass. Laughter and easy chatter rose as water was passed around, and the sharp tension of the hunt eased. For a moment, beneath the ancient canopy, they weren't just hunters or gatherers they were youths enjoying the rhythm of life, their spirits lifted by purpose and camaraderie.
The shade was cool under the massive tree, and for a time, the forest felt less like a wild, dangerous expanse and more like a quiet resting place. The youths sprawled on the roots and grass, spears close by.
One of the younger boys broke the silence with a grin. "Chieftain, you keep pointing out leaves and flowers like an old herb-woman. Should we start calling you Elder Torya instead?"
The group chuckled, and even Torya couldn't help but laugh. "If knowing which plant keeps you from bleeding out makes me an elder, then fine I'll be Elder Torya. Just don't come crying when I save your skin later."
Another youth, a girl with her hair tied back in a rough braid, leaned forward, curious. "So… these herbs. Do they really work like you say?"
"They do," Torya answered simply, plucking a small sprig from his pouch and showing its jagged leaf. "This one stops bleeding if you press it to a wound. Try it, and you'll see."
The girl's eyes widened, and the others listened more closely, the teasing replaced by respect. In that small moment, Torya felt it something subtle. The way their eyes met his, the way laughter eased into trust. A warmth that wasn't just the sun, but something shared.
Before he could think further, a rustle carried from the underbrush. Heads turned. Across the clearing, beneath a shaft of golden light, a small herd emerged deer-like animals with tall, branching antlers. Their coats shimmered with faint patterns, almost like burnished bronze in the sun.
Torya's breath slowed. He motioned silently, and the youths obeyed, each one rising carefully with their spears in hand. No hesitation, no fumbling just quiet unity.
They spread out, forming a crescent to guide the herd's movement. Torya crouched low, signaling with a sharp glance. Two youths shifted right, another crept left, and together their formation tightened.
The herd's leader snorted, catching a faint scent. Muscles tensed. Then, in a single heartbeat, Torya rose and hurled his steel-tipped spear. It cut through the air, grazing the flank of a stag, driving the herd into motion.
"Now!" he barked, and the youths surged forward. Wooden spears flew, some striking shallow, others missing but they moved as one, shouting, driving the animals toward the natural funnel of trees ahead.
The forest echoed with pounding hooves, snapping branches, and the cries of the hunters. One boy stumbled, nearly caught under a stag's charge, but two others grabbed his arm, steadying him without breaking stride. Another youth, face pale, lifted his spear again when Torya's voice cut through the chaos: "Together! Aim for the same one!"
They obeyed. Their spears struck almost in unison, thudding into the same wounded stag. The animal staggered, buckled, and fell. The herd thundered past, vanishing into the distance, but their prize remained on the forest floor, chest heaving its last.
For a long moment, the youths stood there, panting, their eyes wide not just from the hunt, but from what they felt. A strength that wasn't their own alone. Each failure had been covered, each weakness lifted, every strike made stronger when shared.
Torya exhaled, his chest tight with pride. He could see it now—faint, but real. The Emberkin's hidden gift, Shared Warmth, flickering alive.
He stepped toward the stag, resting his hand on its still-warm body. "We did this," he said quietly. "Not one of us alone, but all of us together."
And the youths, tired and smiling through their sweat, nodded as one.
The stag collapsed with a heavy thud, its legs twitching weakly before going still. For a heartbeat, silence claimed the forest. Only the heavy breaths of the hunters broke through, sharp and ragged, as they stood together around their prize.
Then one of the youths froze, staring wide-eyed at his friend. "Hey… your eyes..."
The boy blinked, confused. "What about them?"
"They're brighter. Redder."
The others glanced at each other, and murmurs rippled through the group. Torya frowned, lifting his hand to wipe sweat from his brow. As he did, he caught sight of his own reflection in a shallow pool nearby. His pupils, normally a dull ember-red, glimmered faintly now like coals stirred awake, glowing stronger when close to the flame of others.
The sight made his chest tighten. Shared Warmth… it's not just a saying, is it?
The braided-haired girl touched her face, nervous. "It happened to me too. It's faint, but… I can see it."
Torya looked at each of them, their tired but smiling faces lit with that same ember-like glint. His own lips curled into a smile, soft and proud. "It seems our blood remembers what we forget. Alone, we're just sparks. Together… we burn brighter."
The group fell silent, the weight of his words settling over them. Then one by one, grins spread, and they touched spears to the fallen stag in a quiet, instinctive gesture of unity.
The hunt was not just a victory for food. It was proof—of who they were, and what they could become.
The faint ember-glow lingered in their eyes as they stood around the fallen stag, a quiet fire binding them together. For a moment, the forest itself seemed to hold its breath, watching them.
But as minutes passed, the brightness dulled. One by one, their pupils dimmed back to their usual shade of red, like coals cooling after a rush of flame.
"Did… did we imagine that?" one of the boys asked, his voice hushed, almost afraid to break the spell.
"No," Torya said firmly, though his own reflection in the pool showed only his normal eyes now. He still remembered the way they burned brighter, the strength that pulsed through them when they fought as one. "It was real. Maybe fleeting, but real."
The braided-haired girl exhaled, still staring at her spear as though it held the answer. "Then… it means there's more to us than we thought."
Torya nodded, lifting the steel-tipped spear from the stag's body. "More than we know. And if it fades, we'll just make it burn again...together."
The group exchanged glances, smiles forming slowly, the memory of that glow still warming their hearts even as their eyes returned to normal.
With renewed purpose, they began preparing the stag for the journey back. The hunt had given them more than food it had given them a glimpse of their hidden strength.
They moved slowly through the forest, their prize heavy on their shoulders. The deer swayed between two boys, while others carried smaller game rabbits by the ears, a pair of fowl tied at the feet. Torya walked ahead, stopping now and then to point at the plants he had marked earlier.
"Take only what you know," he reminded them. "The bitter root there it burns the tongue, so leave it. But those broad leaves, yes, gather them. They will cool fevers when boiled."
One girl knelt and pinched a leaf between her fingers, frowning. "It smells sharp, like smoke."
"That's how you know it," Torya said. "The sharper the smell, the stronger its work."
Another youth laughed as he held up a bundle of thin stems. "We'll turn into healers before long."
"Hunters who can heal live longer," Torya replied simply. His words sank in, quieting the laughter into thoughtful silence.