The news of the Baron's census hung over the homestead like a sudden, chill fog. The warm satisfaction of their recent successes—the sold chairs, the awakened affinities, the clean, fragrant comfort of their home—was instantly tempered by a cold dose of reality.
"We are not hiding," Kaelen declared, his voice the steady rumble of bedrock. He looked at each of them in turn. "We are a hardworking family. I am a woodcutter. Your mother is an herbalist. Lyra is a clever merchant. Alistair is a budding craftsman. That is the truth. It is the only truth they need to see."
Alistair nodded, his mind already working. "We hide our strength by making our 'normal' seem unremarkably prosperous. We continue the chair business openly. We keep the wall, but we say it was built to protect our investment in the goats and the workshop from wolves, which is true. We show them a family that is doing well through honest labor and smart trade, not one that holds magical secrets."
The plan was set. They would play the part of ambitious, successful peasants. But as they dispersed to their tasks, Alistair's thoughts turned to his mother. Elara was the heart of their home, the quiet, gentle force that bound them all together. Her knowledge of herbs and healing was their primary defense against sickness. If he wanted to strengthen his clan, her power was the most crucial to unlock, and the most natural to conceal.
He found her in her herb garden, carefully pruning a plant with silvery leaves. The morning sun caught her hair, framing her in a soft, golden light.
"Mother," he began, sitting beside her. "The earth gives strength to Father and perception to Lyra. But there is another kind of power. One of warmth and growth. One of life."
Elara looked up, her wise eyes searching his. "You speak of the light of the sun that helps my herbs grow?"
"In a way," Alistair said. "I think you have an affinity for it. Not the harsh light of summer, but the gentle light of dawn that coaxes life from the soil. The light that soothes a fever and mends a wound."
He didn't ask her to meditate on stone. Instead, he placed a sickly, wilting seedling between them. "Don't command it. Don't force it. Just… want it to be well. Pour your care into it. Imagine the sun's warmth, not burning, but healing."
Elara closed her eyes, her hands hovering over the frail plant. She hummed a soft, old lullaby, the same one she had sung to each of her children. Alistair, using his Earth Sense, felt nothing from the soil. But then, he saw it. A faint, golden shimmer, like dust motes dancing in a sunbeam, began to emanate from her palms. It was so subtle, so gentle, that it was almost missed.
The wilting leaves of the seedling seemed to drink in the light. Slowly, the yellow tinge receded, replaced by a healthy green. The stem straightened, gaining a newfound vitality.
Elara opened her eyes and gasped. The seedling stood proud and healthy before her. Tears welled in her eyes. "It's... it's a miracle."
"It's you, Mother," Alistair said, his heart swelling with pride. "This is your power. The power of a healer."
```
[New Familial Member Awakened!]
[Elara Ironwood has awakened her Light Affinity (Healing Sub-type)!]
[Affinity Level: Novice - 1%]
[Clan Cohesion has strengthened!]
```
The System recognized her immediately, and a new, gentle quest appeared for her.
```
[Elara has received a Quest: 'The Healer's Touch']
- Use your light affinity to aid in the preparation of healing poultices and teas.
- Reward: [Minor Healing Proficiency], +10 Sovereign Points (Family Pool).
```
With his entire immediate family now on the path of power, Alistair felt the **Familial System Link** thrum with energy. He could feel their slow, steady progress like a quiet, harmonious chord in the back of his mind. He assigned Kaelen a quest to **[Reinforce the Gate]**, and Lyra to **[Scout the Market for Information]**. The clan was operating like a single, multi-faceted organism.
Days turned into a week of intense preparation. The workshop was expanded and made to look professionally busy. Lyra deliberately spread word in Oakhaven about their "lucky break" with the chair designs. They were crafting a narrative.
The moment arrived on a crisp afternoon. A rider, clad in the Baron's colors of dun and grey, trotted up the path. He was a lean man with a pinched face and a ledger book in hand—Scribe Valon.
Kaelen greeted him with respectful calm. Alistair and Lyra continued their work in the workshop, seemingly absorbed in their tasks. Elara offered the man a cup of tea, her demeanor the picture of humble hospitality.
Scribe Valon's eyes missed nothing. He noted the new wall with a raised eyebrow. "A substantial fortification for a woodcutter's homestead."
"Wolves, sir," Kaelen said evenly. "A large pack. We lost two goats last season. Couldn't afford to lose more, not with the children trying their hand at a bit of carpentry." He gestured to the workshop.
The Scribe's gaze swept over the rocking chairs in various stages of completion, the clean, efficient tools, and the family that was clearly well-fed and clothed in sturdy, new garments. He made notes in his ledger.
"Your yields seem... notably improved for the Eastern Marches," he commented, his tone neutral.
"My wife has a gift with herbs and the garden," Kaelen replied, which was the absolute truth.
The Scribe's eyes lingered on Alistair for a moment too long. "And this one? He seems to be the driving force behind this... industry."
Alistair looked up, meeting the man's gaze without challenge. "I enjoy building things that last, sir," he said, his voice calm. It was the truest thing he could have said.
The Scribe finished his inspection, accepted a small, freshly carved wooden token of a tree as a "gift" from Lyra, and mounted his horse. "Your tax assessment will be delivered in a fortnight. The Baron appreciates... productive subjects."
As he rode away, the family let out a collective breath they hadn't realized they'd been holding. They had passed the first test. The facade had held.
But that night, as Alistair reviewed the Clan Status, a new, ominous message was waiting for him.
```
[Quest: 'The Baron's Gaze' - Updated]
[Initial scrutiny passed. Facade is holding.]
[Warning: Sub-territorial Lordling, Falkan, has taken note of your commercial success. His domain borders Oakhaven. He is known for his... acquisitive nature.]
[New Objective: Prepare for economic pressure and potential sabotage from local rivals.]
[Reward: Unlocks [Basic Warding Knowledge] to protect your property.]
```
The Baron's shadow was long, but it was the smaller, hungrier wolves like Lordling Falkan who often struck first. The game was far from over; the board had just gotten more complicated. But as Alistair looked at his family, now bound by earth and light, he knew they were no longer simple pawns. They were becoming players.