V2. Chapter 6 — Leaving Home
The days in Lasthold slipped by slowly, like sand through one’s fingers. Morning gave way to day, day to evening, and every night the city fell asleep with the same thought: “The hour is approaching when the outsiders will leave its walls.”
But it was not their departure itself that frightened people. All the townsfolk knew—the outsiders would take some of their children with them.
Each morning brought the names of new “chosen.” Another young man. Another girl. Another gifted youth who would be torn away from his or her parents.
Some families even rejoiced, seeing it as a chance. They imagined their child seeing a wondrous world and reaching heights impossible in Lasthold.
But there were few such families.
For most, the news that their child had been counted among the chosen sounded like a death sentence.
Mothers wept. Fathers remained silent, clenching their jaws so tightly their teeth creaked. Homes filled with a heavy silence, and no one knew what to say.
✦ ✦ ✦
That night, the sky above Lasthold was especially clear.
The stars burned brightly, and the moon illuminated the snow-covered roofs.
On one of the market streets stood a small restaurant, usually noisy and filled with the smells of roasted meat and spices. In the evenings there were no free seats here—merchants, craftsmen, and guards came to dine after a long day.
Today its doors were closed to visitors. Yet thick smoke rose from the stone chimney, and light burned inside.
If someone had happened to glance through one of the windows, they would have seen a table set for a feast.
The heavy wooden table was nearly bending under the weight of dishes. Large plates of stewed meat, roasted poultry, bowls of vegetables, fresh bread, sauces, and pitchers of wine—there was enough food to feed ten people.
Far more than five people could possibly eat.
At first glance, it might have seemed that something was being celebrated.
But one only had to look at the faces around the table for that impression to vanish.
This was Kael’s home.
Kael sat at the table with Kassias, Kris, and Girren, silently staring at the dishes. Only his mother was missing.
Kassias looked at Kael, trying to keep his usual calm expression. He even tried several times to force a faint smile, but his eyes held a dull, almost helpless pain.
Kris, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide her emotions. She sat with her gaze lowered to the table, and her eyes shone with tears that she stubbornly held back, pressing her lips together.
Noticing this, Kael smiled softly, deciding to ease the heavy mood in the room, if only a little.
“Who would’ve thought you’d miss me this much?”
Kris immediately lifted her head.
“Idiot!” she snapped, and grabbing his hand, squeezed his fingers tightly. “Do you really have to leave? You’re friends with all those influential old men! Let them arrange something so neither you nor Girren have to go!”
As she said this, she cast a tearful glance at Girren as well. Although he was not her real brother and had not lived with them for very long, Kael’s family had already begun to see him as one of their own.
Kassias smiled broadly, about to make a joke and cheer up the family.
“Son… you…” he began, but the words stuck in his throat.
He sighed heavily, and his smile slowly disappeared.
“I’m sorry, Kael,” he said quietly. “I wanted to make this evening a happy one, but… I can’t even joke.”
His jaw clenched so tightly that the veins stood out along his jaw, and in the next moment he was already speaking in a low voice, boiling with rage, “If I were stronger, I’d tear those outsiders’ heads off.”
At that moment, quick footsteps were heard from the direction of the kitchen. A few seconds later, Mira entered the room, holding another tray of food in her hands.
A gentle, warm smile full of love rested on her face.
Approaching the table and carefully placing the tray in front of Kael, she said:
“Here, son. I always cooked this roast for you when you were little. You loved it very much.”
Before Kael could respond, Mira suddenly clapped her hands, as if she had just remembered something.
“That’s right! I still haven’t prepared…”
She had already turned toward the kitchen, ready to disappear behind the door again, but Kael gently caught her by the wrist. Startled by the unexpected touch, Mira flinched.
“Mom…” he said quietly. “There’s already enough food.”
“No, of course not…” she replied hurriedly, turning her face away and trying to free her hand, but her voice trembled, and her shoulders began to shake slightly.
Watching this, Girren felt a sharp pain stab his chest. He only shook his head sadly, understanding what was really happening.
Kael, however, did not release his mother’s hand and smiled softly.
“Tonight I want to talk with all of you as much as I can. If you keep hiding in the kitchen, I’ll come into the kitchen and get in your way while you cook.”
After those words, Mira slowly turned back.
Now no one could fail to notice that tears were streaming down her cheeks.
In the next moment, she stepped forward abruptly and embraced her son.
“Son… how will we live without you!”
She pulled back for a moment, lifting her gaze and brushing his hair into place with trembling fingers.
“Why is this happening to us? Why does it have to happen?”
But Kael only smiled. Carefully wiping the tears from her cheeks, he said softly, “In fact, in ancient times, young people always left their parents’ home when they came of age. And I’ve already turned sixteen.”
He laughed quietly, shifting his gaze to his father and sister.
“Just think of it as returning to our roots.”
Mira suddenly lifted her head sharply, and in the next second, unexpectedly even to herself, she burst out:
“To hell with roots! We have different traditions in Lasthold! Children grow up before their parents’ eyes, get married, and only then start living separately. And even then—they remain close to their families! Why should my son go beyond the lands around Lasthold?! It’s deadly dangerous!”
She spoke quickly, barely pausing, the words bursting out one after another until her breathing faltered. By the end of it, her chest was heaving, and her voice began to break.
But at that moment, Kael simply pulled her closer and embraced her.
“Just trust me,” he said quietly. “I’ll take care of myself, of Girren, and of the others.”
At that moment, Mira felt that strange feeling that sometimes came over her after the events with Zeiran. It suddenly seemed to her that it was not her sixteen-year-old son holding her, but someone far older—as if behind that embrace stood a person who had lived far more years.
This feeling had come to her before, but now it strangely quieted the storm in her chest. As if a mother’s heart had told her to believe her son.
For several seconds Mira stood frozen, trembling, as if fighting with herself. Only then did she slowly lift her head. Tears were still running down her cheeks, but her gaze had already grown clearer.
“You promise?” she asked quietly, and there was a tremor in her voice.
Kael smiled and nodded confidently.
“I promise.”
Rising from his chair, he gently put an arm around his mother’s shoulders and led her back to her seat at the table.
“Girren and I will return,” he said, glancing at the others. “And we’ll be so strong that you won’t even recognize us.”
After seating his mother in her chair, Kael gently squeezed her shoulder and, glancing back at the others, said, “Let’s enjoy this evening properly. After all, in the morning Girren and I have a long road ahead.”
Girren nodded, trying to support Kael.
“Don’t worry,” he added calmly. “If Kael, as usual, starts getting into trouble, I’ll hold him back.”
Kris immediately sniffed and, unable to hold herself back, exclaimed indignantly:
“Don’t talk nonsense, Girren! You won’t even realize it before Kael drags you into something again! My brother is an idiot!”
The moment she said that, Kassias broke into a wide smile and then couldn’t hold back a short chuckle. It was the first truly sincere laugh of the entire evening, breaking through the heavy silence.
“On that, I agree with Kris,” he said, still smiling.
Then he looked at Girren and, spreading his hands, added:
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“You’ll have to forgive him for that, Girren. My son takes after me.”
Her husband’s laughter seemed to ease the weight in Mira’s heart as well. She wiped her tears and then, looking at Girren with motherly tenderness, tried to joke too:
“You’d better just stay away from Kael. It’ll be safer for you that way.”
“Hey!” Kael immediately exclaimed in protest, theatrically spreading his arms. “What is this? I haven’t even left my parents’ home yet, and you’re already talking behind my back!”
He looked around at everyone with exaggerated offense and continued:
“What will happen when we’re gone? You won’t even have to hold yourselves back.”
Now Kris couldn’t hold back any longer and burst out laughing.
“And I’m taking your room!” she declared, wiping her eyes. “I’ll turn it into a training room!”
At that moment laughter finally broke out around the table, and the heavy atmosphere that had been pressing on everyone since the beginning of the evening seemed to retreat a little.
Kassias rose from his chair and, reaching for the bottle of strong liquor at the edge of the table, said:
“Well, since you’re already an adult… that means you should have a drink with your father before you leave.”
“Dear…” Mira immediately tried to object.
But Kassias only waved his hand, cutting her off.
“I don’t know when I’ll see him again. I want to drink with my son.”
Without waiting for an answer, he uncorked the bottle and generously poured the amber liquid into Kael’s glass, then poured one for Girren as well.
Seeing this, Kael couldn’t help but smile.
“To drink with my father… Once, I could only dream of this…”
With that thought, he went back around the table and sat down in his seat.
Kassias, meanwhile, raised his mug and, looking at the young men, said loudly:
“Let us drink to a safe road and a great future! The walls of Lasthold and your home will always be waiting for your return!”
With that, he tilted back the glass and drained it in one gulp.
Although Kassias tried to keep himself composed, hiding his feelings behind a loud voice and firm gestures, in truth it was hard for him as well.
Kael smiled softly and, casting a quick glance at Girren, gave him a barely noticeable nod, as if to say, “Thank you for helping lighten the mood.”
Then he raised his own glass and drained it in a single gulp, immediately grimacing at the strength of the alcohol.
When the glasses were empty, Kassias, without a word, reached for the bottle again and filled them once more.
✦ ✦ ✦
Within minutes, loud conversations and laughter could be heard from Kael’s house. The evening, which had begun on a heavy note, was gradually turning into a warm and cheerful family dinner.
A similar atmosphere filled not only Kael’s home. That evening, something similar was happening in dozens of homes across Lasthold. The parents of the “chosen” struggled to accept that by morning their children would leave not only the city walls, but the lands around Lasthold itself—venturing beyond the lands no citizen had crossed in nearly five hundred years.
The evening quickly turned into night, yet in many homes the windows remained lit almost until dawn. People talked, shared memories, tried to joke and distract themselves, though each of them understood that morning would bring farewells.
It was the same in Kael’s house.
They went to sleep only because in the morning Kael and Girren were to set out on the road, and before such a day they needed at least some rest. Otherwise, the family would probably have talked with them until the moment of departure.
Only near dawn did their house finally fall silent…
✦ ✦ ✦
Kael lay quietly on his bed, looking at the moon shining through the window. From the neighboring bed came Girren’s light snoring.
The cold moonlight reflected in Kael’s amber eyes, making them seem deeper and calmer than usual. His face remained serene, and a thought crossed his mind: “What comes next?”
Taking a deep breath, Kael continued thinking.
“After returning to Lasthold, I obtained what I had always wished for in my previous life. My family is safe, and I am now a true mage…”
He narrowed his eyes slightly, and his expression grew more focused.
“But the desires of my past life belong to the past. My new dreams are far greater, and I am still infinitely far from reaching them.”
A faint smile touched his lips. Thinking of his two main goals, he felt a quiet reassurance.
“At least they are closely connected. In order to punish the God of Knowledge and Madness, I will have to reach the pinnacle of magical development anyway.”
As he thought about it, he suddenly felt a strange anticipation.
“The Blood Dragon Empire, then… Perhaps fate is simply hinting that my goals require a larger arena.”
Raising his hand, Kael allowed mana to flow freely through his channels, and above his palm a gray energy began to gather, like a faint mist.
For a while, he simply watched it.
“The pinnacle of magic, huh? The Void Hermit was never allowed to reach it… Will I have a chance?”
The room remained quiet. Moonlight spread across the floor, Girren snored softly in the neighboring bed, and the gray mana slowly dissolved into the air.
After a few seconds, Kael slowly lowered his hand, closed his eyes, and whispered softly:
“Enough thinking, Kael. Time to sleep. The future isn’t going anywhere…”
Less than a minute later, he too began to snore quietly.
✦ ✦ ✦
When the sun rose above the horizon and the first rays began to slowly warm the stone streets of Lasthold, the city gradually came to life. One by one, the residents left their homes, stepping out onto the streets and all heading in the same direction.
Today no one was hurrying to work. The craft workshops remained closed, merchants did not raise the shutters of their shops, and the street stalls never appeared in their usual places.
Today the entire city had come to see their children off.
The most talented youth of Lasthold.
Near the southern gate, an enormous crowd had already gathered. Hundreds, if not thousands, filled the square before the gates, even though the outsiders themselves had not yet appeared.
In the front rows stood the “chosen” with their families.
Among them were Kael and Girren.
Nearby stood Violet and Magister Priscilla. Violet was an orphan, so only her mentor had come to see her off, standing beside her and speaking quietly to the girl.
Meanwhile, Kael was embracing his parents, though his gaze kept moving across the crowd.
At one point he noticed Roselle.
She stood slightly aside together with her parents and older sisters. To Kael’s surprise, the entire family had gathered around her, embracing her and quietly saying something, as if trying to support her.
Watching this, he narrowed his eyes slightly, muttering to himself inwardly.
“So they finally decided to show some warmth? And for that they had to wait until the very last moment?”
But another sight struck him far more strongly.
Among the chosen stood Lissandra—the girl whom her own family had only recently considered useless and called trash.
Now everything was different.
Her relatives surrounded her, speaking with exaggerated care, as if she had suddenly turned into a precious asset of the family.
Her father stood beside her, looking at his daughter with a heavy, evaluating gaze.
“Serve the representatives of the Empire well,” he said quietly, but harshly. “Do not dare disgrace the family.”
Lissandra only nodded silently, her head lowered.
At that moment, a rising murmur spread through the crowd.
“They’re here!”
“They’ve arrived!”
People began to step aside, forming a wide passage. Through the crowd moved a group from the Blood Dragon Empire, accompanied by the elders of Lasthold.
At the sight of them, many of the “chosen” paled. Some had never ventured more than a few thousand steps from Lasthold in their entire lives, and the thought that today they would leave not only the city but even its surrounding lands made them clench their fists.
Some of them were even thinking about running away.
Mira and Kassias pulled Kael and Girren into tighter embraces, as if trying to keep them close for at least a few more moments, while Kris clung to her brother’s sleeve, unwilling to let him go.
Meanwhile, the Empire’s mages stepped up to the gates and stopped in a small open space before the crowd, which quickly turned into an improvised square.
Elder Cornelius took a few steps forward. His face shone with a satisfied smile.
Raising his hand, he spoke loudly: “Ria Lastholdar, na venira sena ria. Ira venar legath Impera, et lumer grathea Devar Varyn et Seryth siren no varos.”
Magister Duran immediately began to speak beside him, solemnly translating his words, though the expression on his face remained grim.
“People of Lasthold. We are not saying farewell to you. Soon the envoys of the Empire will come, so that the blessing of the God of Blood and War may descend upon your city.”
Cornelius raised his hand again and spoke the next phrase, “Vaelthar elar ria, vare no sena.”
Magister Duran let out a heavy sigh, then translated dryly: “Chosen ones, please step forward.”
At that moment a quiet sigh swept through the crowd—as if a single breath escaped from hundreds of lungs. Everyone knew that this moment would come, but no one had been ready for it.
Surprisingly, several young men and women were the first to step forward. They moved confidently, their backs straight, and determination could be seen in their eyes. Their families stood behind them with pride, seeing their children off with proud gazes.
Others hesitated.
They embraced their parents, brothers, and sisters tightly, as if trying to memorize this moment. But even they, gathering their courage, soon stepped forward and followed.
Watching this, Kael quickly assessed what was happening.
“Not a bad spread…” he thought. “They chose both kids my age and those around twenty.”
With these thoughts, he turned toward his family.
“Everything will be fine. Don’t worry about us.”
Then he looked at Kris and added more seriously.
“Keep training according to my plan. But until I return, hide your abilities. Hold back during duels and don’t boast to anyone about your achievements. Alright?”
Kris nodded, beginning to cry again.
Kael smiled at Girren, stepped forward, and pulled him into a tight embrace. Then they both embraced his family. The embrace lingered, none of them willing to let go.
But Kassias, gathering his courage, was the first to release his son. He stepped back, holding his wife and daughter close, as if restraining them.
“I love you,” Kael said quietly. “Everything will be alright.”
“Thank you for everything,” Girren said, bowing deeply. “I hope I will have the chance to repay your kindness.”
Mira and Kris nodded, unable to hold back their tears.
“Just come back safe. That’s all we need,” Mira said.
Kael only gave Violet a brief nod, then looked at Girren, and the three of them walked forward.
They had not even reached the middle of the passage when Kael felt a gaze on him. Raising his eyes, he saw Cornelius looking directly at him and giving him a slight nod with a faint smile.
Kael responded with a respectful bow.
Violet noticed this and smirked.
“We’re not even in the Empire yet, and you’re already in good standing. It seems you have a talent for befriending old men.”
Kael merely smiled wryly and replied, “I’m an old man at heart myself.”
As they approached the rest of the “chosen,” Kael noticed Magister Duran staring intently at him and Violet.
For a moment, a storm of emotions flashed in his eyes. There was rage, and fatigue, and a strange, almost fatherly concern. It seemed as though he wanted to say something, to stop them—perhaps even forbid them from going any farther.
But a moment later, all those emotions disappeared.
The Magister only nodded slowly to them.
The nod was brief, but it clearly conveyed what he did not say aloud: “Good luck. I believe in you.”
The farewell might have dragged on for a long time, but under the heavy, cold gazes of the Empire’s mages, no one dared to delay.
When around a hundred young mages of Lasthold had gathered in the square before the gates, the heavy gates of the southern gate slowly began to open. Beyond them lay a road stretching beyond the city and farther still—toward distant mountains.
The outsiders moved forward first.
And the “chosen” followed them.
Almost none of them dared to turn their heads away from their loved ones. They continued to look back, waving their hands, shouting their farewells, trying to memorize the faces of those who remained on the other side of the gates.
This continued until the heavy gates behind them finally closed.
At that moment, each of them felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation.
They had left their home.
And not merely for a short period of training with teachers from an academy. They understood that they would not return here in a month—or even in a year.
It was terrifying.
But amid that fear, another spark remained—curiosity.
They were beginning to realize that they would be the first to meet other mages. The ones to cross the Central Dragon Mountains. The ones who, after five hundred years, would see another civilization.
