As the brothers raced home, Aria’s and Kael’s worry was trailing like a whisper on the wind. Aria called out to Ken again, to offer some rushed advice, but he was too caught up in the thrill of the moment. His eager footsteps echoed in his ears as they drew nearer to their destination.

The city that loomed before them was one of nine marvels scattered across the Head Lit-Land. This was ScaleFell, belonging to the SilverEyes tribe, guardians of the Dogma of Wit. Gears and thermometers adorned every spire and wyvern-shaped weathervanes spun in the skies.

As Ken and Ben entered, their breathless excitement mingled with the bustling sounds of industry and steam. History seemed to whisper through the very stones and pipes of this place of mesmerizing beauty. The clanking of machineries blended with the melodies of everyday life.

Weaving through the narrow, mazelike streets lined with ornate buildings that were adorned with vibrant tiles and intricate patterns was like navigating the inner workings of a great machine. Towers punctuated the skyline, their graceful silhouettes decorated with blinking lights and shaking propellers.

In this enchanting place, arched doorways led to hidden courtyards, where fountains sparkled with crystal-clear water. Balconies with delicate twisted iron railings, gauges, and pulleys overlooked bustling markets below, where colorful fabrics billowed like sails in the wind. Exotic spices scented the air amid blooms, joined by the hiss of steam and a ring of forged metal.

It was hard to believe that a ruthless enemy subjugated his people.

As they ventured further into the heart of the city, Ken and Ben passed by the mosaic-covered domes that graced many buildings, their designs forming intricate, geometric puzzles that told stories of a bygone era. The city's architecture was a testament to artistry, each structure a piece of living history.

Their footsteps echoed on cobblestone streets, harmonizing with the laughter and chatter of the city's inhabitants. The people who recognized them called out to Ben, “Hullo Master Ben!” A woman said.

“Good waking to you, Master Ben!” An old man called from afar.

The calls kept on going from all sides, and from all kinds of people. Ben kept on running with excitement he did not even notice them. The only thing on his mind was to beat Ken in this race.

But none called out for Ken.

As he ran, Ken always felt that within this architectural wonderland, adventure awaited not only in the wilderness but also in the hidden corners and bustling alleys of their extraordinary city, where every turn held the promise of discovery and wonder.

Entirely forgetting about his little brother whom he left far behind, Ken reached their home first.

He entered the gardens of their family's dwelling. The house itself was nothing short of majestic, its size and grandeur rivaling that of a palace from a bygone era.

Ken rapidly reached the spacious halls with eagerness, his footsteps echoing through them. They were adorned with intricate mosaics and ornate archways. As for the walls, they were decorated with richly woven tapestries that depicted scenes of history and myth, their colors still vibrant even with the passage of time.

In a corner of the vast entryway, Ken's hunting gear was neatly arranged inside a box. The gear he used to use during his hunting trips with his father now lay in wait for him to take on his first hunting trip with his brothers.

He leaned down onto the box to grasp his weapons, which were finely crafted and cared for. They gleamed with a polished sheen. His black garments, stitched with exquisite sterling silver and masterful detail, were a testament to the skill of the family's tailor.

As Ken gathered his supplies, his eyes fell upon his flute nestled among the fabrics. A gift from his father on his last name day. While his father loved hearing him play it during their hunting trips, he thought his brothers would think it ill-suited for their expedition.

After a moment's thought, Ken gently put it aside inside the box. “Perhaps next time!” He whispered.

Ken wasted no time in collecting the rest of his equipment, feeling a surge of excitement. As he readied his bow and secured his knives, he felt a sense of pride in belonging to his family's legacy. Today, he was going to fully earn his place amongst his brothers as one of the House Argorus.

It was then that Ben rejoined his brother. Panting and huffing, he rested on both his knees.

Ken chuckled. “Where are they, little brother?!” He asked.

“Outside,” Ben said whilst panting. “The tailgate,” He added.

“Come,” Ken said as he began walking.

Ben stood straight, huffing, and he tagged along.

As Ken marched to venture into the hunt with his older brothers, nervousness, joy, and a deep desire to make a good impression swept him. He hoped this would be a turning point in his relationship with them, and a chance to prove himself worthy of their respect.

But Ben's presence served as a reminder of the bonds that tied them together as a family. Though young, Ben's enthusiasm and eagerness to include Ken in this special occasion spoke volumes. Ben in his own way, always tried helping to bridge the gap between Ken and the rest of their siblings. A surge of affection for his little brother went through Ken like an electrical current.

And when he arrived at the gathering spot, his older brothers were already there, waiting.

Surrounding Ken and his younger brother Ben were their six older siblings, a formidable and striking group. All of them shared the same light-toned skin, raven-black hair, and piercing silver eyes that seemed to shimmer with an innate wit and wisdom. They were a slender yet remarkably muscular and tall bunch, each one a testament to the strength and endurance required for a life as the Hunters of Arin.

Dan the eldest, with hair neatly tied in a warrior's braid that hung down his back, his authoritative presence setting the tone for the group.

Iskar possessed a wild mane of untamed locks that cascaded over his shoulders, giving him an air of untamed intensity.

Kailan had his hair cropped short and precise, reflecting his meticulous nature and unwavering focus.

Darien wore his hair just below his ears accentuating his strong jawline and commanding presence exuding an aura of discipline.

Levi had his hair adorned with intricate tribal braids that hinted at a connection to the traditions of their ancestors, lending him an air of mysticism.

Jed’s long hair flowed freely, unbound and unburdened, embodying a spirit of adventure and wanderlust.

Their hair, despite its uniform blackness, showcased an array of distinctive styles that reflected their individuality.

Together, they made an intimidating sight, a united front that now included Ken. As he stood among them, a sense of pride and belonging was beginning to creep into Ken’s heart. Today was not just a hunt; it was a step towards becoming a true part of this prominent family, where bonds of blood ran deep, and the ties that bound them were enduring.

They nodded in acknowledgment, their expressions serious but not unkind. One of them, his eldest brother, stepped forward.

“Father has given us permission to take you with us on the hunt,” Dan said, his tone measured. “But remember, Ken, this is not a game.”

He just called me Ken, instead of just “you”, this is a first.

Ken nodded, his determination clear. “I won't let you down,” He replied earnestly.

The six brothers shared a glance, and for a moment, Ken thought he saw a hint of pride in their eyes. Perhaps, just perhaps, today would mark a new beginning, a chance for him to earn his place among them.

“Well said,” Dan agreed.

With their acceptance, Ken's heart swelled with gratitude.

“Let’s move,” Jed declared as he marched first.

The rest followed.