There was a night of celebrations back in the village, but no one discussed their powers or gifts. It was taboo, preventing hotheads from getting into trouble when they discovered someone else received a gift they wanted. Uzca wasn't too interested in the celebrations, and his father took note. They headed home early, and his father told him to get some sleep. They could talk about what happened in the morning. Uzca wanted to speak with him, but the power churning through his body was more exhausting than he thought it should have been.

The morning came, and Uzca told his father of his meeting with the god. They sat around the table in the kitchen and drank spiced tea while bacon sizzled on a pan in the wood stove nearby.

"You met, Rethkam, truly?" his father said in amazement.

"We were inside a cavern. It was so hot, and there was molten rock on either side of the path I was on. He had eyes like molten steel. I think I should have been terrified, but his presence was oddly comforting."

Renza nodded his head approvingly. "You are a child of Rethkam. You follow his teachings and work towards his ideals. I am not completely surprised you met him. Most go in, forget what happened, and then leave with a gift. Some think that everyone meets with their chosen god, but I am not so sure. Either way, you are fortunate. Those who meet the gods and remember the experience are said to gain greater gifts."

Uzca looked down at his hands. His power was still out of reach. It worked through his body, changing it in ways he couldn't identify.

"I can't tell what it is yet. Is that normal?"

"That backs up my thoughts. Shallow gifts can be used almost immediately, while the body needs to adapt to greater ones. My gift was fully developed after two days, so it might take a few days if you have something similar. Sorry about that," he finished with a grin.

"I feel like you didn't tell me this on purpose!"

Renza ignored the accusation. "So, did Rethkam tell you what your power was?"

"Yeah, he called it 'The Heart of Change,' but he didn't really say what that meant."

"Interesting. If it is what it sounds like, then you might just put me out of a job," his father said with a laugh, slapping a palm on the table.

"There is one more thing..." Uzca said. He didn't want to put this off. His father stopped grinning and focused on him, matching Uzca's serious expression. "Rethkam said there was a price for this power. I am to leave the village. I need to find out what happened to Mom and Frenza."

His father stared at him in shock for a long moment before abruptly standing. Renza walked to the sink, facing away from Uzca. He rested his hand on the lip as though trying to hold himself up. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, coming to grips with what he had to say.

"I'm sorry, Uzca. All this time, and I've failed you. But it seems my prayers have been answered...maybe you can do what I couldn't..." he said softly. He wiped his eyes and turned back to Uzca. "I don't want you to leave, obviously, but I know you've always wondered, and you've never asked. What I learned, what I saw."

"I didn't want to upset you," Uzca said, and just to say it made him feel like a child.

"You're a good man, Uzca, but you don't need to protect me. That's supposed to be my job. Or it used to be."

Renza opened the oven and pulled out the pan, ignoring the bacon grease splattering against his bare skin. He brought two plates with bacon, some hard eggs, and bread to the table.

Uzca wanted to continue talking, but it seemed like his father needed a minute to figure out what he wanted to say. He always started doing something else when he just needed a minute. He would come back to it.

Renza wiped his mouth when they were done eating and told him what he knew.

"That night, when they vanished, I woke, and they were gone. When I went outside, I found tracks—lots of tracks from many horses and men. I do not know how they took them so quietly, but I suspect lowlander magic. Your mother was always a fighter, and I don't think she would have gone quietly, no matter the situation.

"I woke Menza immediately. You probably don't remember, but I brought you to his house and left you there with your Aunt. We set out immediately down the mountain. We borrowed horses and found the trail heading down toward Donarin easily enough.

"We tracked them through Donarin. It was a mess, but the folks there weren't unkind to our plight and directed us out to Orzii. We hastened there. That's when things changed." Renza's face took on a dark look.

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"The people of the lowlands hate us, Uzca. They saw your uncle and I as two enormous barbarians rushing into their village and demanding to know if a group of riders had come through with a woman and a young boy. They refused to help us. We should have claimed to be from Donarin or another upper lowlands village, but I was as far from logic as I have ever been. Orzii is where the trail died. It gets far too much traffic, and we could no longer track from there. I might have guessed where they were taken...but I also had you at home. And Menza had his own family to think about. Bezben was only two, after all.

"We stayed in Orzii for two days, waiting to see if we found any sign or got any word of them, but nothing came of it. Eventually, we ran out of meager supplies and were forced to return home. I have always had suspicions about where they were taken, but..."

"You had me to worry about."

"It's not your fault, son."

"I know, Pa. That doesn't make it feel better, though. What were your suspicions?"

"Your mother was the daughter of a wealthy merchant. They used to spend summers up here in the mountains. He did some trade with the villages, but it was mostly just a vacation destination. Your mother and I met when we were young, and we would see each other every summer," he smiled at the memory.

"You know, it was awful. I would wait all winter and spring, just biding my time until she returned. We fell in love, and when she was old enough to make her own decisions, Freyen moved to the village full-time. I knew what it meant and asked her to marry me shortly after that."

His father picked up his napkin and blotted at his eyes. "Those were some of the best years of my life, and they only became better when Frenza was born and then you, Uzca. Your mother loved you both so much, and it filled my heart to see the three of you together."

Renza paused and stared at nothing for a moment, lost in the memories. This wasn't a story he had ever told Uzca. His father never brought up the topic, and Uzca had always followed his lead in avoiding it.

"But I suspect her father grew tired of waiting on his wayward daughter to admit her follies and return. I think he sent men here to take her and her oldest son and return to Telestria, your mother's home city."

The suspicion stoked the embers of anger in Uzca. If his father suspected that his wife and son might be alive, why hadn't he done everything in his power to see them reunited? And there was the last thing that irritated Uzca only slightly less than the disappearance itself.

"Why have you never told me this? I've been a man for years, father. Why didn't you tell me!?"

"Because you weren't ready, and...maybe I wasn't either. I've prayed many times on this, Uzca. When I thought about telling you. Well, this is going to sound ridiculous, but it felt like Rethkam wanted me to wait. Maybe it was that you didn't have a gift yet, and the god wanted you prepared. I...I think I would have told you, now that you have your gift..." Renza trailed off, at a loss for words to describe what he had done and why. Uzca understood. It was a complex topic for both of them.

"Rethkam told me you were afraid I would stay out of pity. Your greatest fear was that I wouldn't go if you asked me."

Renza spread his hands in a pleading gesture.

"I know it's hard to understand, son. How could I have waited so long? The truth is that I desperately want you to go. My heart burns with rage every morning, and only my hammer against the anvil keeps me sane. But it would break my heart if you didn't. Not because you want to stay with me, but because I've somehow distanced you so far from your mother and brother that you didn't care anymore."

The fight left Uzca, and he sagged in his chair. His eyes burned with fresh tears, and he saw past his father's mask for perhaps the first time. A man, wholly broken by grief, whose facade was held together by a love for his son. A glimmer of hope in his eyes, buried by self-doubt and the desire to let his son be his own person. He wanted to know what happened just as much as Uzca, but he couldn't leave. Uzca could see it all as clearly as if it had been written on his father's skin. Still, he broached the question.

"Why don't you go now?"

This was the last question. The ultimate reason. For all the time that had passed and all the grief and anger he had felt, Renza had to have one reason he wouldn't go.

His father's voice was soft and on the verge of cracking when he spoke.

"It's been a long time, son. I had my suspicions, and I sent letters. I've sent letters for years. One each week for the first few, then once each season, and now once on your mother's and Frenza's birthdays. I sent them to her father. In hopes that my suspicions are correct. But in all that time. I've never received a single response."

Renza took a deep breath and steadied himself. Tears fell freely as he admitted his deepest fear. "For all that...if I were to go, and I found them...what if they don't want to come back?"

His father's deepest fear was, despite all evidence to the contrary, what if his wife had left and taken her oldest child of her own volition? What if they didn't want to be part of his family anymore?

The truth of it would break him. He couldn't leave and face that fear, but Uzca could hold it at arm's length. It was painful, for it was just as much a rejection of him as it was of his father, but he could manage it. For Uzca, knowing the truth was more important than avoiding that pain.

Uzca moved to his father and wrapped the bear of a man in a hug, letting him sob as the walls he had built for over a decade broke down. When the tide of emotion and the river of tears slowed, Uzca reassured his father in a way he had never done before.

"I will go, Father. I will find out what happened and why. If I can, I will return with them. This I promise you."

Renza stared at him with an unreadable expression for a long time.

"Thank you, son. That means a lot to me."

They sat for a few minutes, and both wiped their eyes clear. Uzca would find his family. It wouldn't make up for the lost years, but he could get answers for himself and for his father.

"When should I leave?"

Renza smiled at him and put a hand on his shoulder, shrugging off the heavy emotions of the last few minutes. "Not until your gift is fully your own, at the very least, but probably a few days after that. We're expecting a wagon through the high pass in about a week. We can pay to get you out of the mountain passes, at least. It's not safe to walk alone." His father stood and forced out a laugh. "So that means you still have a few days of forge work ahead of you! Who knows, perhaps working the forge will help your gift develop!"