The Broken Abyss

The night air was cold, sharper than usual, as Tanver stood in the dim glow of the estate's outer walls. His heart was steady, yet something heavy coiled inside his chest.

This was the last time he would see this place—not as a son, not as an heir, but as an outsider.

His decision was final.

The events of the past days had burned through him like an unrelenting fire. His so-called parents, Varian and Seraphina, had made their choice. They had chosen Alric. No hesitation. No regret. Just a quiet acceptance that he was no longer needed.

Tanver had spent years—his entire life—trying to be the perfect son. He had learned everything, mastered every lesson, fought for their approval, and yet, in the end, it had amounted to nothing.

He had been discarded like an old piece of cloth, a temporary placeholder for the real heir.

There was no longer a place for him here.

But that didn't mean he would fade away.

He would leave this country—not as a defeated exile, but as someone who would carve his own path.

The Last Goodbye

His steps were silent as he made his way through the estate. The corridors he had walked a thousand times now felt distant, as if they no longer belonged to him.

He had packed lightly. Just enough to last him a few days. If he stayed too long, the past would cling to him like a chain, and he couldn't afford that.

As he reached the servants' quarters, he hesitated.

There was one person he needed to see before leaving.

Mara.

The old woman who had raised him, comforted him when no one else had, whispered words of encouragement when the weight of his name had been too much to bear.

She had always been there.

He knocked softly on her door. A few seconds later, it creaked open, and there she stood—her tired, wrinkled eyes widening in alarm the moment she saw him standing there with his travel pack.

"You're leaving," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Tanver nodded. "I have no reason to stay."

Mara's face was unreadable, but her hands trembled slightly. "I knew this day would come," she murmured. "But not this soon…"

She motioned him inside, and he followed. The small room smelled of dried herbs and candle wax, the familiar scent oddly comforting.

"You don't have to do this," she said as she sat down. "You don't have to run."

"I'm not running," Tanver said, his voice firm. "I'm choosing my own path."

She studied him for a long moment, sadness flickering in her gaze. "Where will you go?"

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But I can't stay here."

Mara exhaled slowly. "The world beyond Eldoria isn't kind, child. It's full of dangers you've never faced before."

Tanver met her gaze, his resolve unshaken. "Then I'll learn to face them."

A small, weary smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "You always were stubborn."

She reached for something beneath her bed and pulled out a small, leather-bound pouch. "Take this," she said, pressing it into his hands.

Tanver opened it and found a handful of gold coins. Not much, but enough to last him a while.

"Mara—"

"Don't argue," she said, her voice suddenly firm. "This is my choice. Just as leaving is yours."

He clenched his jaw and nodded.

Mara reached out, her hand brushing over his cheek in a rare moment of affection. "You may not be their son by blood," she whispered, "but you are more than they ever deserved."

The words hit something deep inside him, but he forced himself to stay composed.

With a final nod, he turned to leave.

The Escape

He moved quickly through the halls, knowing he couldn't linger. The estate would wake soon, and if anyone saw him, they might try to stop him.

But as he reached the main gates, a voice cut through the silence.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Tanver turned sharply, his eyes narrowing as a group of guards blocked the entrance.

Lord Varian's personal guards.

Of course, they wouldn't make this easy for him.

"I'm leaving," Tanver said coldly.

The head guard, a man named Joren, frowned. "Does Lord Varian know about this?"

Tanver let out a bitter chuckle. "Do you really think he'd care?"

Joren hesitated, but another guard stepped forward. "We have orders to keep you in the estate."

Tanver's eyes darkened. So they had expected this.

"I'm not a prisoner," he said. "Step aside."

No one moved.

His hands clenched into fists. He didn't want to fight them—he wasn't here for revenge. But he wasn't about to let anyone dictate his fate anymore.

Joren sighed. "Tanver… don't make this difficult."

"I should say the same to you," Tanver muttered.

Then, without warning, he moved.

A sharp twist, a low sweep—he knocked one guard off balance and darted past them. The others reacted instantly, but Tanver was fast. Years of combat training, of discipline, had honed his reflexes.

A hand grabbed his arm, but he slammed his elbow back, breaking the grip. Another guard lunged at him, but Tanver sidestepped and sent him sprawling.

A few more steps—just a few more—

Then suddenly, an iron grip locked around his wrist.

He turned, already raising his other hand to strike—

Only to stop when he saw her.

Mara.

She had followed him.

Her fingers tightened around his wrist, her expression unreadable. "Are you sure about this?" she asked.

Tanver's throat felt tight, but he nodded. "Yes."

Mara held his gaze for a long moment before slowly releasing him.

"Then go," she whispered. "And don't look back."

For the first time in his life, Tanver didn't hesitate.

He turned and ran, the night swallowing him whole.

Beyond the Gates

The city was silent as he moved through the empty streets, his breath steady, his mind clearer than it had ever been.

For the first time in his life, he had no title, no duty, no expectations chaining him down.

He was free.

But freedom came with uncertainty.

He had no plan, no destination—only the knowledge that he could no longer stay in Eldoria.

The real journey was only beginning.

And as he disappeared into the shadows, he vowed one thing—

No matter where this path led, he would never let anyone decide his fate again.