The young man picked his way through the charred husks that were once called trees, ever conscious of the small complement of Jaffa escorting him in the search for his father

The young man picked his way through the charred husks that were once called trees, ever conscious of the small complement of Jaffa escorting him in the search for his father. Aris wasn't sure if his father would even be there, but hopefully he had remembered and more than just the elder Boch would be waiting. Aris had learned to hunt in the forests, following the trails his parents laid and tracking them to wherever they had hidden from him; even as devastated as the once-lush forest was, there was still enough cover to conceal a small army.

Catching a flash of color off to one side, Aris glanced back casually at the following Jaffa to see if they'd noticed. He saw other hints of movement out of the corner of his eye as his 'escort' plodded along in ignorance, and he suppressed a smirk at hearing the low trill of a bird that could only be found on the northern continent. When it came again, Aris took the hint and dropped to one knee, rolling off the path as several men charged from the scant cover along the side of the path and burst through the undergrowth to surround the Jaffa. The first blast of staff weapon fire slammed into the trunk of a tree directly beside him, and Aris rolled away to grab a handful of dirt, flinging it into the eyes of the closest Jaffa – the soldier staggered and Aris lunges forward to knock t he man's feet out from under him, wresting the staff weapon away and bringing it across the Jaffa's chin to render him unconscious.

"You made enough noise for two herds of Car'rach." A big man dressed in silvery-black armor came forward and addressed him sternly. "I thought your mother and I taught you better than that."

Aris felt the first true smile in weeks start to spread across his face. "You did, Father."

Rion Boch enveloped him in a brief, rough embrace before pushing Aris to arm's length to examine his son's bruised face. "That's quite a scar you've got above your eye," he said quietly.

Shuffling his feet, Aris swallowed hard against the lump forming in his throat. "Yes, Father." For one horrifying moment, he thought he would disgrace himself by bursting into tears, but Rion released his chin and bent to pick up one of the staff weapons while the other men busied themselves with dragging the Jaffa's bodies out of sight. Aris looked down at the toes of his boots and blinked rapidly until the urge to cry had passed. Taking a deep breath and trying to calm down, he looked over at where his father was still fiddling unnecessarily with the staff weapon. "Riah, she's a prisoner. But Mai'ma - I mean, Mother, she…she…"

Rion Boch pushed himself back to his feet, running a hand through the same coppery hair that stuck out wildly on Aris' own head. "I know, Aris. I was on my way back from the trade meeting when I felt your mother die." He paused, then placed his big hands on either of Aris' shoulders. "It's good that you're looking after your sister like she asked you to."

"It's not good at all," Aris admitted. "Ba'nal threatened to kill Riah if I didn't bring you to him, and I thought…"

"Thought what?"

"Well, I thought you'd have a plan," Aris stammered. His father looked ready to laugh, but how could he think this was funny?

"It just so happens that I do," the older man said calmly, all traces of amusement wiped from his face. "I'm going back with you."