Starbound

Offshoot: Mission (1)

Javier was 13 when he headed for his home. He felt remarkably bad about the fact everyone probably thought he was dead. The last they'd seen of him had been him entering the palace grounds, a suicide mission as far as anybody in the neighborhood was concerned. He hoped his failed attempt at getting them food didn't mean his family had starved to death.

"I failed that mission three years ago... I can't fail this one."

He would never be recognized by the clothes he wore, clean and made by the best masters of their guild. Knowing this, he grew his second set of arms beneath his human arms just when he reached the road to the home he'd missed so dearly. Although he understood why he hadn't been allowed back nor even able to write letters, his heart longed to walk the streets of the place that had seen him grow.

Two large, muscular people stood at the gate they'd built to keep outsiders, well, out. Their Marks of Wrath were purposefully on display, same as the maces they held. Despite how much time had passed, Javier was unfazed, bringing all four arms out of his cloak to put his hands up.

"I come in peace."

One of the two knelt down to eye level and squinted. "You... You seem familiar."

Of course, Javier knew who they both were. The older one that had knelt down to look at him had prevented him and his friends from leaving the neighborhood multiple times, while the other, far younger one was a young man who'd watched over them often in the past; Uncle Kiran, as the children called him.

A heavy feeling, akin to dread, filled all three marked humans, and Kiran instantly shouted at the top of his lungs, making good use of his sound affinity.

"STOP! The visitor has no hostile intent!"

The feeling crept back, slow as it came.

"That was... The onset of fear," Javier recognized. "We only have two Fear Clan members in this community. I didn't know grandma helped chase off intruders..."

"Don't worry about it, she's a little jumpy as of late," Kiran told him. "You look a lot like a kid we lost a few years ago."

His elder raised their hand to him, their other hand unable to brush their graying hair out of their face while it held their mace. "No. Little one, give us your name."

Javier bowed his head. "My name is Javier Rodríguez García. Thank you for asking, elder."

"The boy speaks the truth," they said, fully convinced. "Javi, we thought you'd been executed. You'll have much to explain tonight at dinner."

"Wait, wait, you're telling me this is really Javi?" Kiran asked, stepping closer to examine him. "He is! Oh, stars, he is!"

He had not been expecting to be scooped up into a bone-crushing hug, but he welcomed it. When Javier felt his eyes water, he realized just how much he had missed the warmth of his family's embrace. He hugged back with all four arms, aware enough of his lower set's strength to control the force he put into it.

The new few hours passed by in a blur. Tears, more hugs, and being closely examined by every single person in the neighborhood. Younger folks were curious over his clothing, mostly, and how good his hair smelled and looked. Older members of the community instead marveled at his health. Perfectly fed, strong, eyes alert, skin free of blemishes. That night, around the community fire, he told his story of what had happened the past three years.

"What? The queen welcomed you?" one of the elders asked, incredulous. "It is true she has been kind to us, but such a thing..."

"I cannot reveal much," Javier said, sending everyone an apologetic look. "But I promise, I'm here to help you all. And the queen wants to help as well."