The road out of the village was narrower than Kaelen remembered.
Weeds crept along the cracked stones.
The trees leaned closer, their bare branches clawing at the misty sky.
The world seemed to whisper around him:
"Are you sure you're ready to leave?"
"Are you ready to never look back?"
Kaelen sat astride his horse, cloak draped over his armor, Sovereignblade Astryn hidden but ever-present.
His family rode behind him, quiet but determined.
This wasn't just a journey.
It was a farewell.
And not everyone was ready to let them go.
The Farewell
At the gates of the village, a small crowd had gathered.
No banners.
No grand send-off.
Just tired faces, wary gazes, and a handful of nods that meant more than words.
The village elder approached again — the man who had once scolded Kaelen for every reckless mistake.
Today, his hands trembled slightly on his cane.
"You were always the stubborn one, Kaelen Drayce," he rasped.
"Always chasing something bigger than your own shadow."
Kaelen smiled softly.
"Someone had to."
The old man chuckled dryly.
"Maybe you'll catch it this time."
He stepped back and, with surprising strength, struck his cane against the ground three times.
A signal.
A farewell only the oldest traditions remembered.
Behind him, the villagers followed suit — tapping staffs, spears, even stones against the ground.
A low, steady rhythm.
Not celebration.
Not mourning.
A recognition:
"One of our own rises.
And we will watch the stars for his return."
Kaelen bowed from horseback — a full, deep Sovereign bow — and turned away.
His family followed.
No one spoke.
Words would have cheapened it.
The First Steps
They rode in silence for miles.
The village faded behind them, swallowed by mist and memory.
Kaelen led them westward — toward Heartland, toward destiny.
The horses' hooves thudded against frozen soil.
The air smelled of frost and smoke.
Riven finally broke the silence.
"Think they'll be okay?"
Kaelen didn't look back.
"They're stronger than they know."
Lyanna adjusted the satchel of books slung across her horse's flank.
"We'll come back someday, right? When everything's… different?"
Kaelen's hands tightened slightly on the reins.
"Yes," he said.
"Someday."
But he knew the truth.
The world he was building would be a world where villages like theirs didn't need to survive on hope alone.
A world where no one was forgotten.
Campfire Dreams
That night, they made camp beneath a crooked oak by the side of the road.
The fire crackled low, throwing long shadows across the cold earth.
Kaelen sat apart for a while, staring into the flames.
His family huddled closer together, laughing softly over shared stories — the ones he missed while fighting wars no one here had even heard of.
And Kaelen smiled.
Because for the first time in a long time,
he wasn't carrying the future alone.
He had them.
And soon, they would have a place worthy of their hopes.
Reflection
As the stars stretched wide above,
Kaelen drew Astryn and planted it upright beside him.
The cracked-crown sigil on the blade gleamed faintly.
He closed his eyes.
And whispered a new vow:
"I will not build a kingdom of gold and thrones.
I will build a home.
A haven.
A future.
For them.
For all who dare to dream.
For the forgotten.
For the broken.
For the ones who never gave up."
And the stars —
silent witnesses to a thousand forgotten kings —
burned just a little brighter.
As if the heavens themselves recognized the beginning of something they could not stop.