Miller gave a curt nod, his eyes glinting with grim satisfaction. "Good," Miller replied. "Just don't die before then."
Atara's face twisted in frustration, her eyes flashing with a mixture of disbelief and anger. "You can't be serious," her voice trembling as she spoke.
Without care for a response, she spun on her heel and stormed away, her footsteps echoing in the still night.
Kaleb watched her go, his jaw clenched, knowing how much he'd upset her.
"You made your choice, but you're playing a dangerous game."
Kaleb's gaze didn't waver. "I know."
They stood in silence for a moment, before Miller gave a curt nod. "Remember what I said: don't die before a year's passed." Then he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Kaleb alone with his thoughts, the night growing colder around him.
Kaleb trudged back the cool night air biting at his skin. Each step feeling heavier than the last, the conversation with Miller replaying in his mind like a relentless echo.
When he finally reached the shed, he hesitated, his hand resting on the rough wood as he took a breath, steeling himself for what was inside.
He pushed the door open, the familiar creak filled the air, but the warmth and presence he'd grown used to was missing.
The space felt colder, emptier. He stepped inside, the air, once filled with their shared breaths, now hung heavy with their absence.
Silence gnawed at him, reminding him of how badly things had unraveled. 'Did I make the right choice?' He asked himself.
His eyes flicked towards a wooden stool in the corner of the shed, Atara's usual spot, expecting to see her glaring at him in frustration. Instead, It was empty, just like everything else.
'Of course she's gone. Why wouldn't she be?' he mumbled. He had pushed too far, letting his desperation to protect them cloud his judgment.
He sat on the stool and tried to imagine her face, still seeing the hurt in her eyes, the disbelief when he'd disappointed her expectations. 'Did I really expect her to stay after that?'
He slumped back against the wall, as his thoughts raced through the many possibilities; betrayal, failure, death.
'I can't do this alone. But I don't have a choice because I am alone.' Doubt clawed at him, twisting inside his chest.
Just the thought of facing Miller's vengeance or the count's wrath without them made the shed feel even emptier.
"I never wanted any of this!", he exclaimed as the exhaustion of it all came crashing down at once.
He curled up in the thin, worn-out blanket, staring at the ceiling as he laid down, trying to push away the overwhelming loneliness that had started to settle in.
His eyes burned with frustration, guilt, and fear all mingling together, and there was no one at his side to share the weight with.
But even as guilt gnawed at him, there was a stubborn part of him that held firm. "I had to do it. It was the right choice," he told himself, the thought looping in his mind.
Even as he convinced himself that he made the right choice, it brought no real comfort as the pain of loneliness was more than he could bear.
Kaleb's eyes fluttered shut, he rolled over, pulling the thin blanket tighter, but it did little to chase away the cold creeping into his chest. The shed felt vast and empty without them, without her.
His body gave in before his mind did, dragging him into an uneasy slumber, but even in his dreams, the space beside him felt too wide, too cold.
Kaleb blinked groggily, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light pouring into the shed. He looked up to see a silhouette standing before him.
He rubbed his eyes and as his vision cleared, he realized that standing before him was Atara, her face hard and unyielding.
Atara's arms were crossed, her stance rigid, the coldness in her eyes sharper than any words she had spoken the night before.
"Get out," she said, her voice devoid of warmth. It wasn't loud, but the firmness in her tone left no room for debate.
Kaleb attempted to protest, to explain, "I don't want to hear it," she said, the weight of her words silencing him.
Behind her, Eliora and Rayna stood silently, their faces unreadable.
He glanced between them, searching for a glimmer of the companionship they once shared, but all he found was distance, a chasm that had grown overnight.
Kaleb pushed himself to his feet, his limbs heavy with fatigue and the growing sense of isolation. He opened his mouth again, desperate to say something—anything—but the words died on his tongue.
There was nothing he could say to fix this. Not now.
Without another word, he grabbed what little he had and walked past them, the cold morning air biting against his skin as he stepped out of the shed.
As the door creaked shut behind him, it was more than just a door closing, it was a barrier, a piece of his world being locked away.
The estate grounds stretched out before him, the field behind it where he trained was empty.
He took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs, but it did little to lift the weight in his chest.
His feet moved with purpose, even though the path ahead felt uncertain. Stepping onto the field, He began without hesitation, pushing his body through the familiar routine, each jump, each push-up, each sprint across the hard ground.
The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows that stretched and shrank with each passing moment, a silent witness to his efforts.
His muscles burned from the strain, but he welcomed it as the pain gave him a moment of reprieve from his struggles.
Each movement was sharp, and purposeful, as if he was somehow attempting to outrun the loneliness gnawing at him.
Minutes stretched into hours as he immersed himself in the rhythm training, a flicker of movement caught his eye.
A carriage rolled up the estate's winding path, its sleek, polished wood gleaming in the sunlight. The sound of hooves clattering against cobblestone broke the silence of the field.
Kaleb paused, with sweat dripping from his brow. The carriage was a spectacle, adorned with gilded details that reflected the sunlight like stars.
Servants hurried to and fro, their uniforms contrasting sharply with the greenery surrounding them, their expressions a mix of excitement and urgency.
Kaleb felt a flicker of curiosity, a nagging thought tugging at the edges of his focus. What was happening inside that carriage? Who had arrived to disrupt the mundane?
Shaking off the distraction momentary distraction, Kaleb returned to his routine.
Hors passy by and with his body now screaming for a break, he reached for his swords. The cold metal of the hilts biting into his palms, a reminder of the discipline he needed to maintain.
Kaleb stood in the center of the field, drawing the blades with a swift, practiced motion With his body now screaming for a break, he reached for his swords.
The cold metal of the hilts biting into his palms, a reminder of the discipline he needed to maintain.
Kaleb stood in the center of the field, drawing the blades with a swift, practiced motion. He thought about how to improve his swordsmanship while he remembered his fight with the guard.
The sound of their weapons clashing echoed in his mind, each strike and parry playing out like a movie reel in vivid detail.
Remembering how he dodged the guard's heavy swings, how he'd twisted his body to avoid a potentially crippling blow.
In his mind, he saw the guard's eyes widen with surprise as Kaleb used agility over brute strength, dancing just out of reach.
He recalled the guard's surprise at his agility, and how adrenaline had coursed through him, sharpening his instincts.
Kaleb envisioned things he could have made differently, the footwork he could have refined.
Each swing of his swords became not just a practice of technique but a way to rewrite his past mistakes, to push past the limits he had set for himself.
He lost himself in the rhythm, the field around him transformed into a sanctuary where he could hone his skills, and prepare for whatever lay ahead.
By the time he was satisfied It was almost nightfall. He took a moment to catch his breath, the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat a reminder of the intensity of his training.
"That should be enough for today," he said, sheathing his blades and feeling a sense of accomplishment wash over him.
As Kaleb wiped the sweat off his mind drifted back to the fight, where in the heat of the moment he had been hit with a surge of mana.
That sensation markedly different from what he had felt before. As if he had tapped into something more connected to his emotions than any previous experience.
He sat down and took a deep breath, centering himself, "Well I guess it's worth a shot" he said, as he focused inward.
He sat for an hour with no success and just when he was about to give up, he was finally able to feel the mana within him.
Kaleb focused harder on it and to his surprise the mana responded, pulsing gently like a heartbeat. As he concentrated, the energy surged to the surface, wrapping around him.
With each breath, Kaleb felt the mana well up within him, expanding and reaching outward.
A golden aura began to emanate from his body, shimmering. It flowed from him in tendrils, twisting and curling through the air like wisps of smoke.
It was as if he had tapped into a hidden reservoir of strength, and now the mana was breaking free, eager to explore the world beyond his body.