Two paths lay before him—each clear, each heavy with meaning. One was the path of duty, the righteous road that led him back into the chaos, into the weight of responsibility that never truly ended. The other was a quieter one, the path of peace, of promise, of the simple truth he once forgot: that life wasn't only about surviving. It was about living.
Ilyrana had told him to choose the righteous path. Because that's who he was—Luke, the mage of Nateron, the man who always stood where others fell. But for once… he didn't agree. He didn't say yes. He didn't even nod. The silence between them grew thick, and Ilyrana felt her heart skip a beat, unsure what that stillness meant.
Then, suddenly, Luke reached forward. His hand found hers, warm and trembling slightly.
