Her name was Elira.
My younger sister—too bright for the weight of the world, too honest for politics. She had a laugh that came too easily and a habit of clinging to people as if afraid they might disappear if she let go.
My older sister's name was Lyssandra.
Two years older than me. Sharp-tongued, sharper-minded. A prodigy everyone admired and I had once resented with quiet, poisonous intensity. In this life, she was the wall I hadn't yet climbed—and the one I respected the most.
That morning, I sought both of them out.
Not because I was brave.
But because if I left without seeing them… I knew I would regret it forever.
Elira was in the garden, exactly where I expected her to be.
She sat cross-legged in the grass, painstakingly arranging small stones into what looked like a crooked crown. When she saw me, her entire face lit up.
"Brother!"
She scrambled to her feet and ran toward me, nearly tripping over her own dress. I caught her easily—another small change that still surprised her.
"You're fast now," she complained, pouting.
"You're predictable," I replied, smiling.
She stuck her tongue out at me, then grabbed my hand. "Come on! You promised to play again."
"I did," I said.
And I meant it.
We played the same silly games we always did—tag, hide-and-seek among the hedges, imaginary knights and monsters. She insisted I be the villain again, which earned a dramatic gasp from a passing maid who clearly hadn't adjusted to my new behavior yet.
"You have to lose," Elira declared firmly. "Villains always lose."
I paused, crouched in front of her, and met her eyes.
"Not always," I said gently. "Sometimes they just… leave."
She frowned, thinking hard. "That's boring."
"Maybe," I said. "But sometimes boring is safer."
She didn't seem convinced, but she laughed anyway when I exaggerated my defeat and flopped onto the grass.
We lay there for a while, staring at the sky. Clouds drifted lazily overhead, unaware of plans and destinies.
"Brother?" she said softly.
"Yes?"
"You won't disappear, right?"
My chest tightened.
Children noticed more than adults gave them credit for.
I turned onto my side so we were face to face. "Why would you think that?"
She shrugged. "You're different. Like you're… getting ready for something."
I swallowed.
"Elira," I said carefully, "if I had to go somewhere far away for a while… would you be angry?"
She stared at me in shock. "You're leaving?!"
"No," I said quickly. "I mean—if."
Her lower lip trembled, and she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around my neck.
"I don't like 'if'," she said fiercely. "I like 'stay'."
I hugged her back, tighter than I ever had before.
"I know," I whispered.
After a moment, she sniffed and pulled away, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve. "If you do leave," she said, voice wobbly but determined, "you have to come back taller."
I laughed softly. "I'm already taller than you."
"Taller still," she corrected. "And stronger. And… and you have to bring me something."
"Something?"
"A promise," she said solemnly.
I nodded. "Deal."
Lyssandra found me later.
Or perhaps she had been looking for me.
She stood at the edge of the training yard, arms crossed, watching as I finished my exercises. Sweat dripped from my chin; my muscles trembled faintly as I completed the last set.
She didn't speak until I straightened.
"You're leaving," she said.
It wasn't a question.
I wiped my face with a towel and met her gaze. "Yes."
She studied me in silence, eyes sharp and unyielding.
"So Father was right," she said. "You're going to run."
The words would have enraged me once.
Now, they simply hurt.
"I'm not running," I said. "I'm choosing."
She scoffed. "From what?"
"From staying broken," I replied.
That made her pause.
"…Explain."
I shook my head. "I can't. Not fully."
Her jaw tightened. "Convenient."
"I know."
We stood there, the space between us heavy with everything unsaid.
"You know what people will think," she said at last. "You know what she will think."
"Yes."
"And you're going anyway."
"Yes."
Lyssandra stepped closer, her voice dropping. "If you disappear and come back the same—or worse—then I'll never defend you again. Not once."
I nodded. "That's fair."
She searched my face, as if looking for cracks.
"…If you disappear and come back better," she continued slowly, "then I'll pretend I never doubted you."
I smiled faintly. "That's generous."
She turned away, already walking. "Don't make Elira cry," she added sharply. "Or I'll hunt you down myself."
I watched her go.
Then I went to my room.
The letter took longer than I expected.
Not because I didn't know what to say—but because I knew exactly what not to say.
I sat at my desk, pen hovering over parchment, sunlight streaming in through the window. The room looked ordinary. Familiar.
Temporary.
Finally, I began to write.
Father. Mother.
I am sorry for leaving without your permission.
I know this will feel like betrayal, and I accept that.
Please believe this: I am not running away from my responsibilities.
I am running toward them.
There is damage I cannot repair here. Not yet.
If I stay, I will always fall short—no matter how hard I try.
I need time. One year, if the world allows it.
When I return, I will be worthy of this house.
Please protect Elira from worrying too much.
Please don't let Lyssandra blame herself.
And please—do not look for me.
You won't find the path I'm taking.
I will come back.
Your son,
Aurelian
I folded the letter carefully and placed it in the center of my bed, weighed down with a small ornament Elira had given me weeks ago—a crooked stone crown.
Then I changed.
Dark clothes. Simple boots. No insignia. No symbols of my house.
Before leaving, I took one last look around the room.
No nostalgia.
Just resolve.
I slipped out before dawn, using paths I had memorized during morning runs. The guards barely noticed me—False Crown ensured I felt as unremarkable as a shadow.
The forest swallowed me quickly.
Trees rose like silent sentinels, their leaves whispering overhead. The further I went, the quieter the world became—not because of Sovereign of Silence, but because civilization simply… fell away.
I followed an old game trail until it vanished, then pushed deeper, guided by something I felt rather than saw.
The cave lay hidden behind thick brush and jagged stone—a narrow opening that would be easy to miss unless you were searching for it.
I stepped inside.
The air was cool and damp. Darkness pressed in from all sides.
Perfect.
I reached out inwardly, touching the system.
"Teleportation," I whispered.
The response was immediate.
[DESTINATION CONFIRMED]
[WARNING: ONCE INITIATED, RETURN IS IMPOSSIBLE WITHOUT COMPLETION]
I hesitated—just for a moment.
Images flashed through my mind.
Elira's laughter.
Lyssandra's glare.
Her calm, guarded eyes at the doorway.
I clenched my fists.
"Activate."
The cave vanished.
Reality folded.
And as the world I knew slipped away, I stepped into a place that did not exist—
To rebuild what fate had tried to destroy.