The cold wind of exile was a bit harsher at night. Stars trembled in the sky like watching eyes, and the gates of the palace—the same gates Nagara once rode through with banners raised and songs on every lip—now opened only for silence.
His steps were quiet, his cloak pulled tight, the scroll from Redris tucked close to his chest. He thought he would leave unseen. He was wrong.
She was waiting.
Lanara stood beneath the stone archway, silver moonlight spilling down her long and wavy platinum-blonde hair. Her green eyes shimmered—not with the glow of magic, but with tears. She looked more like a dream than a person, framed in sadness and longing.
"Lanara," Nagara breathed, startled. "You shouldn't be here."
"You thought I'd let you disappear like a ghost?" she whispered, stepping forward. "Without saying goodbye?"
Nagara's heart ached as he saw her trembling hands. "...I'm sorry."
"Then take me with you," she said, voice desperate. "Let me follow you, Nagara. I don't care where it leads. I don't care about the cold or the monsters or the danger. I want to be where you are."
He reached out, gently brushing his knuckles against her cheek. "You don't belong in exile. Your place is here—in the court, in the heart of Asiah. You're still their hope."
"I can't be their hope if you are gone, I want to be with you," Nagara pulled her into a tender embrace. She felt small in his arms, yet her pain was vast."I need you here with me."
Nagara spoke gently. "You are the hope of the kingdom. Be their light."
Lanara clutched him tighter, her tears dampening the fabric over his chest. "Then promise me you'll come back."
"I will," he said, voice shaking. "When I do... I'll be someone worthy of you. Of everything I lost."
A silence fell, pierced only by a low chuckle from the shadows behind them.
"You always were better at goodbyes than me."
They turned to see Luthien, emerging with his arms crossed, his golden armor dimmed by night. His smile was rueful, eyes heavy with things unsaid.
"Luthien," Nagara said softly.
"I didn't mean any of this," Luthien said. "I never wanted the crown. They gave it to me because I bowed to their will. You stood against it, so they cast you out."
"I know," Nagara said. "I don't blame you."
The cousins looked at each other, years of shared laughter and rivalry hanging between them like a blade not yet fallen. Then Nagara stepped forward and grasped Luthien's shoulder.
"Protect Asiah," he said. "Protect her... and everyone else."
Luthien nodded solemnly. "And you—come back stronger, cousin. The kingdom may forget your name. I never will."
Lanara wiped her tears. Nagara stepped back, eyes lingering on both of them. To the people he cherished the most. His heart burned with words he could not say.
Then, without another glance, he turned toward the road that led out of the palace, out of Asiah, and into the unknown.
The gates closed behind him with a quiet thud.
The moon bore witness to a farewell heavy enough to break hearts and bend fate.