(KBTCM) Ch 3: The Heart Of The Forest, Family Conversation!

(Kerren)

The Thryndel Forest, ancient and vast, stretched like a green sea just beyond the towering walls of Vaeloria. Its deeper reaches were whispered of in stories—some claiming it was home to fae spirits, others swearing it held the remnants of a forgotten age. For most, it was a place of mystery, but for one boy, it was a destination.

Kerren, a boy of fifteen with wild brown hair that half-obscured his sharp, tired eyes, stood amidst the forest's scarred terrain. His clothes, little more than rags, hung loosely on his wiry frame, stained with the dirt and grit of the lesser district he called home. Over his shoulder, he carried an enormous steel hammer, its weight defying the lean strength of his body. Yet, he bore it effortlessly, as if it were no heavier than a broomstick.

Around him lay the aftermath of destruction. Massive trees were shattered like kindling, and craters pockmarked the earth, some so deep and wide they looked like the impact sites of falling stars. The ground itself seemed to groan under the weight of the destruction wrought by the sparring princesses of Vaeloria.

Kerren barely noticed.

With a languid yawn, he continued forward, his pace unhurried. He had lived in Vaeloria long enough to know this chaos was normal, at least for the royal family. The princesses, titanic in size and strength, often came here to train—or more accurately, to battle with such ferocity that the earth itself bore witness.

He had caught glimpses of them before—Princess Rowena, with her fierce yet graceful demeanor, and Sylara, whose laughter echoed like distant thunder. They were breathtaking, almost otherworldly, but to Kerren, they were as unreachable as the moon. They belonged to a realm of palaces and power, far removed from Grelling Row, the destitute district he called home.

Still, every now and then, as he passed through the aftermath of their battles, he would glance at them. Just a glance, like admiring the distant stars. Beautiful, but untouchable.

Today, though, he had no time to spare for admiration. His destination lay deeper within the forest, beyond the ruined landscape where even the trees dared not stand.

"So close," he muttered, his voice low and rough, as though the weariness of his years had seeped into his tone.

The air began to change as he moved forward. The sharp scent of splintered wood gave way to the earthy aroma of damp soil and wild plants. The chaos faded behind him, replaced by a serene stillness. Tiny green lights, like drifting fireflies, began to dance in the air, their glow soft and ethereal.

The trees around him grew taller, their trunks thick and ancient, their canopies knitting together to form a verdant ceiling. Bushes and vines blocked his path, but he pushed through them, undeterred. The hammer on his shoulder didn't so much as shift as he moved, its great weight a natural extension of himself.

Finally, he emerged into a clearing, and his tired eyes lit with awe.

Before him stood a tree unlike any other, a colossal titan among titans. Its bark glowed faintly, a deep silver hue that shimmered like moonlight, and its massive branches reached skyward, disappearing into the misty canopy above. Vines wrapped around its base, their emerald leaves glistening as though covered in morning dew. A faint, almost musical hum seemed to resonate in the air, as if the tree itself was alive and breathing.

Kerren exhaled slowly, a smile tugging at his lips. "Finally made it," he murmured, stepping closer. His boots sank slightly into the soft moss that blanketed the ground as he approached the Heart of Thryndel, the sacred center of the forest.

***

(Rowena)

The great doors of the royal palace of Vaeloria groaned open as Rowena stepped inside, her immense frame momentarily blocking the sunlight from spilling into the grand hall. After a long day of testing her physical limits in the sparring grounds of Thryndel Forest, her body ached for a bath, but she knew better than to keep her parents waiting. Her mother's voice, calm yet commanding, echoed in her mind: "Duty before comfort, Rowena."

As she entered, Rowena offered polite nods to the palace's staff, her enormous presence a stark contrast to the maids and servants bustling around her feet. They bowed and curtsied as she passed, some looking up with a mixture of admiration and awe.

"Good evening, Miss Rowena," one brave steward called out.

"Good evening, Gerard," Rowena replied warmly, her voice gentle despite its volume. She was always careful to keep her tone measured, knowing a careless word at full strength could rattle the room.

Her bare feet, still lightly dusted with dirt from the forest, thudded softly against the polished marble floors as she made her way down the hall. Just as she rounded a corner, she caught sight of a familiar figure—a much smaller man walking toward her with a confident stride.

"Daddy!" Rowena's face lit up as she crouched down to scoop up her father, King Allaric, with practiced ease. Despite being a normal-sized human, the king had never appeared small in spirit. His charisma and sharp mind made him a towering figure in his own right, though physically he looked like a doll in his daughter's massive hands.

Rowena pressed a delicate kiss to the top of her father's head, careful not to rumple his royal tunic. Allaric chuckled, clearly used to this treatment. "I see you've made it back in one piece, my dear. Now, tell me—who emerged victorious today?"

Before Rowena could answer, Sylara stepped into view, her strides quick and playful. "I did, of course," Sylara declared with a wide grin, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Rowena scoffed, gently placing her father back on the ground. "Oh, please. If we're being honest, I had you pinned by the end."

"You did not!" Sylara shot back, her voice rising indignantly.

"I absolutely did!"

King Allaric raised a hand, laughing heartily as his two daughters began their familiar bickering. "Enough, enough! I see neither of you will concede today, so I'll declare it a tie," he said, his tone filled with amusement.

Rowena and Sylara shared a glance, rolling their eyes in unison, but both wore faint smiles as they followed their father through the palace halls.

The three of them made their way to the king's study, a room designed to accommodate the royal family's towering frames. The study was grand and warm, with high ceilings and stone walls lined with massive shelves of books bound in leather and gold leaf. A fireplace large enough for a person to stand in roared in the corner, casting a soft glow over the plush rugs that covered the floors. A sprawling table, carved from a single ancient tree, dominated the center of the room, surrounded by chairs that could comfortably seat the giantesses.

And there, seated gracefully in one of the enormous armchairs, was Queen Aelira, her red crimson hair cascading down her shoulders. Her piercing eyes, so like Rowena's, softened as her daughters entered.

"Mother," Rowena greeted with a smile, dipping her head respectfully as she stepped forward.

Sylara offered a similar greeting, albeit less formal, plopping herself into one of the oversized chairs with a dramatic sigh.

Aelira's lips curved into a gentle smile as she regarded her daughters. "Girls, it's nice of you to join us," she said warmly, her gaze flicking between them. "I trust your sparring session was productive?"

Rowena chuckled lightly, lowering herself into a seat beside Sylara. "As always, Mother."

Sylara, already lounging with her legs draped over the arm of the chair, grinned mischievously. "We might've flattened a bit more of the forest, though."

Aelira shook her head, a small laugh escaping her lips. "Of course you did."

The warmth of the moment filled the room as the fire crackled softly in the background. Despite their size and power, the royal family was still a family—bound together by love, duty, and the understanding that their immense strength came with even greater responsibilities.