Ethan hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Training? Was that what they thought had happened to him? His mind raced, trying to catch up with the bizarre narrative these people seemed to believe. He wasn't sure what training they were talking about, but it was clear that this version of Ethan they knew had a reputation he had to navigate carefully.
"Uh, yeah... training," Ethan muttered, deciding it was best to go along with the assumption. "It was… pretty intense."
The chief nodded, his expression softening with a hint of pride. "I figured as much. You've always been a determined one, pushing yourself beyond your limits. But this," he gestured at Ethan's torn clothes and bloodstains, "this is the worst I've seen you come back. You need to be more careful out there. There are very dangerous beasts in these forests. The only reason they don't dare enter our settlement is their fear of Lord Nessleson."
Ethan swallowed. "I'll, uh, keep that in mind."
The chief's sharp eyes bore into him as if searching for something beneath the surface. For a moment, Ethan wondered if the man could sense his thoughts, if he knew something was wrong. But then, the chief sighed and gestured toward a chair by the table.
"Sit down, boy. You look like you've been through hell. I'm sure you're hungry. We'll get you cleaned up and fed before your mother finds out you've been back. Otherwise, she won't let me hear the end of it."
Ethan stiffened at the mention of his "mother," but nodded and sat down. He needed time to gather his thoughts, figure out how he had ended up in this strange place, and more importantly, why these people thought they knew him.
The chief signaled to the man who had brought Ethan to fetch some food. As the door creaked shut, Ethan leaned back in his chair, his mind spinning. What had he stumbled into? If they truly believed he was this version of "Ethan" they knew, he could use that to his advantage. But how long could he keep up the charade before the truth unraveled?
What about now? He and his supposed father were sitting next to next without anyone else. Was he to make some small talk?
Ethan shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and the silence prolonged. His father poured some drink from a jug and continued to sip it contently while looking at nothing in particular.
He wondered what the drink was when the smell of the wine hit his nose. God, what was a nice aromatic smell. The rich, earthy aroma of the wine filled the room. Even the best drinks he had savored back on earth wouldn't come close to this one.
He couldn't help but glance at the jug. There was more of it. Was the old man going to share some?
His father caught his gaze and chuckled. "Ah, you've got an eye for good wine, just like your old man. This one's from the northern vineyards. Took a lot of barter to get a few jugs of it. Do you want a taste?"
Ethan was about to nod when the man laughed again. "Don't even think about it. In a few hours you are-"
Interrupting their conversation, the door flung open and a young woman entered. "Ethan!" She rushed in, her expression a mix of relief and frustration.
"Where in the world have you been?" she demanded, hands on her hips. "You've been gone for hours. Do you have any idea how worried I was? We thought... we thought something might've happened to you!"
Before Ethan could respond, she grabbed him by the arm, inspecting his torn clothes and the dried blood. "And look at you! You're a mess!" Her eyes flicked to the chief, all her worry instantly turning to anger and aimed at the poor man.
"You! You are responsible for this. Always pushing him too hard!" the young woman snapped at the chief, her eyes flashing with frustration. "I know you think it's for his own good, but look at him! He's lucky to be alive!"
Ethan shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, his mind racing as he tried to piece together who she was. His sister, maybe?
The chief raised his hands defensively. "Marella, calm down. You know how important it is for him to be prepared. He'll never be able to face what's out there if he's not pushed to his limits."
Marella crossed her arms, her frown deepening. "There's pushing, and then there's nearly getting him killed. You need to be more careful. Well, mom is on her way. You can hear the rest from her." She huffed before grabbing Ethan and dragging him over to another room.
Ethan looked at his father and the man simply gave him a helpless sigh. He had the look of a war veteran who had fought many battles and won none. Yet he could only gear up to face the next one. Shortly after they left the room, Ethan could hear a muffled angry voice that sounded more like a roar and then some loud arguments.
"Serves him right." Marella harrumphed, still dragging a very awkward Ethan. It looked like he had landed smack dab in the middle of a complicated family.