Morning arrived cold and gray. Mist over the harbor curled like smoke, hiding the Crossing from view. Shackled together, they were escorted toward a small boat.
Suren's chest heaved. "This… this is it."
The air smelled of salt, sweat, and lingering fear, but Suren was already awake, sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes bright with anticipation.
Zefrin stirred beside him, chains rattling softly, but his posture was relaxed. He said nothing, keeping the weight of the name "Godrick" locked behind his calm exterior.
Suren jumped to his feet, stretching his arms wide. "Finally! I've been waiting for this moment forever." His grin was infectious, fueled by sleep, excitement, and the promise of the unknown.
Zefrin only smirked, a shadow of amusement curling his lips. "Careful, boy. That horizon doesn't care about your waiting. One false step, and it'll chew you up and spit you out."
"I don't care. I'll take my chances. Whatever's out there… it's mine to find. And I'm not going back until I settle every last debt and stand atop the food chain."
Zefrin shook his head, letting a low chuckle escape. "Ambition. Reckless, loud, unstoppable… I suppose I can work with that."
The guards unlocked the cell, grumbling under their breaths as they opened the heavy doors. Suren stepped past them first, he made his way up to the town and down to the docs. The cold and prickly rain welcomed Suren to the surface. Lafin was waiting nearby with a small boat already prepared, the water rippling gently against its sides.
Zefrin followed silently, moving with a grace that belied his chains, stepping lightly onto the docks as though he had walked them a thousand times before.
Suren's heart hammered as he climbed into the boat, eyes fixed on the mist-covered ring of water ahead. "Tomorrow," he muttered to himself, "I will prove my will to the land on the other side and eventually the entire world."
Zefrin settled opposite him, hands resting casually on his knees, expression calm—but the faint glint in his golden eyes betrayed the thoughts running through centuries of memory. He didn't warn the boy about the dangers to come, didn't reveal the secrets of Godrick or the past he carried. That knowledge would wait.
Lafin's deep voice rumbled through the quiet morning. "Here—these are the keys the mayor gave me to free you two."
He lowered his massive frame onto one knee, bringing himself closer to the level of their wrists. Suren and Zefrin raised their hands, allowing Lafin to work with the heavy iron cuffs.
With a few precise twists and the clink of metal, the shackles fell away. Lafin's hands hovered for a moment, steadying the keys, before he leaned back slightly and gave a small grunt of effort. Suren flexed his wrists, testing his freedom, while the morning light reflected off the cold metal.
Zefrin, however, merely rotated his wrists once, testing the circulation, before folding his arms across his chest. "Chains never mattered," he murmured, voice quiet but laced with centuries of disdain.
Lafin stood, looming over them, his expression hard. "Don't get too excited. The land that awaits across the veil is most likely riddled with beasts. The mayor's expecting you to return with something worth more than your lives. Fail, and I'll be sad about more than just my debts.
Lafin dropped to his knees suddenly and yelled. tears coming like a flood. "damn you son, i wanted to see you grow more, you've become a splendid hunter, even better than i or your father was at your age", he wiped his tears, with solemn look "I'm a terrible man for even letting you go, i should be the-"
Lafin suddenly dropped to his knees, his massive frame trembling as tears spilled freely down his face. His voice cracked as he shouted, "Damn you, boy… I wanted to see you grow. You've become a hunter greater than I ever was—greater than your father was at your age."
He dragged a rough hand across his wet cheeks, forcing his voice steady though it shook with grief. "I'm a wretched man for letting you go and letting you carry the burden of all of this. I should be the one—"
Suren jumped up from the boat to the doc, greeting Lafin and placing a firm hand on his shoulder. His voice was soft, but resolute. "No, you've done enough. You gave me a dream… have blessed me with the knowledge and resources I needed to stand on my own." I don't know why my father prioritized the veil over me but you'll always be the best one in my heart no matter if you think that or not."
He met Lafin's tear-filled gaze with a steady one of his own. "If I stay here, I'll never become more than the boy you raised. But out there…" he glanced toward the fog-covered horizon, "out there, I can become something greater. For both of us. and I'll be able to set us free from the debt driven life we've been living."
For a moment, silence hung heavy between them—only the sound of waves lapping against the dock. Then Lafin nodded slowly, shoulders trembling as he rose back to his feet.
Suren stepped closer, voice steady but filled with emotion. "Don't put yourself down, Father. You've done nothing but teach me the lessons I needed most. Even leaving me at eleven… it taught me strength, it taught me survival."
He clenched his fist, echoing the words once more, softer this time—almost like a vow. "So just as you always told me… grit your teeth in the face of evil, even if that evil is you yourself."
Lafin froze, eyes wide as the words struck deep.
Lafin stared at him, chest rising and falling as the weight of his Suren's resolve sank in. Slowly, his trembling lips curved into a proud, tearful smile.
"You really are your father's son…" he murmured, voice breaking. Then, standing tall once more, he placed a heavy, calloused hand on Suren's head. "Go on then. Show this world the man you've become."
Suren nodded, eyes glimmering—not with fear, but with purpose.
Lafin stepped back as Suren climbed into the boat. The air was thick with mist, the horizon a wall of white uncertainty. With one final push, Lafin set them adrift.
The boat cut through the gray waters, ripples spreading like echoes of their farewell. Suren didn't look back. He didn't have to.
The promise had already been made.