The cold grip of the night air pressed down on Raden as he walked through the castle grounds. His boots echoed against the cobblestones, the only sound in the otherwise silent courtyard. There was something suffocating about the silence here—an emptiness that mirrored what he felt inside. Each step he took felt like he was walking farther from everything he used to believe in, further away from the person he used to be.
The mission had gone as expected. He had followed orders. He had killed. It was a routine now, a grim necessity. But tonight, as he walked alone under the weight of the stars, he couldn't shake the feeling that something inside him was breaking.
He stopped by the edge of the castle wall, staring out over the vast expanse of land that stretched beyond. The empire. His training. His duty as a Mage Breaker. It was all so far removed from the boy he once was. The boy who had dreamed of a life free from bloodshed, free from control.
A soft rustle behind him broke his thoughts. He turned to find Shara standing a few paces away, her silhouette illuminated by the pale light of the moon. She looked different—more distant, perhaps. Her blonde hair caught the light, and her green eyes seemed to pierce through the shadows, looking straight into him.
"I didn't expect to find you out here," she said, her voice quiet, as if she were testing the waters before stepping forward.
Raden didn't speak at first. He wasn't sure if he was ready to face her. She always saw right through him. More than Kacmebrow, more than the other Mage Breakers, Shara saw the cracks in him, the weakness he tried so hard to ignore.
"Why are you here?" Raden asked, his voice flat. He couldn't help it. Part of him wanted her gone. He didn't need her complicating things. He didn't need someone reminding him of what he used to be.
Shara's expression softened. She took a step forward, her gaze filled with concern. "I could ask you the same thing. The castle's full of people. Full of soldiers, mages, the empire's dogs, and yet… here you are, alone."
Raden clenched his fists at his sides. He had always hated that look in her eyes—like she could see right through the armor he'd built. It was one thing to be broken inside, but it was another thing entirely to have someone else know.
"I'm not alone," Raden said, his tone hardening. "I'm just doing what I'm supposed to do."
"And what's that?" Shara asked, her voice quiet, almost as if she were afraid to hear the answer.
Raden turned away, looking out over the landscape again, trying to avoid the weight of her gaze. His mind raced with the familiar words—Follow orders. Don't question. Kill or be killed. Success is the only thing that matters. But none of those words had the comfort they used to.
He couldn't lie to her. He couldn't pretend that everything was okay when he felt like a hollow shell inside. He had killed again, and it hadn't gotten any easier. He wasn't sure if it ever would.
"I'm a soldier. I'm doing what's expected of me," he said, but even to his own ears, the words sounded weak.
Shara's voice was softer now, and for a moment, he thought she might walk away. But instead, she took another step closer.
"You don't have to be just a soldier, Raden," she said. "You don't have to be what they want you to be. There's more to you than just the orders you follow."
Raden's heart pounded in his chest. It wasn't that he didn't want to believe her—he did, more than anything. But the reality of what he had become, of who he was now, made those words seem so far-fetched. He was broken. He had crossed lines he could never come back from.
"And what is that?" he asked bitterly, turning to face her. "What else is there, Shara? I've killed. I've followed every order, done everything they've asked of me. What else is left?"
Shara stepped forward, her eyes searching his face. "There's you, Raden. There's still you in there. The person who didn't want to hurt people, who cared. The person who wanted to make a difference. You can still be that person. You don't have to let them erase you."
Her words hit him harder than he expected, and for a fleeting moment, he almost felt something—a flicker of the boy he once was, the one who had dreams and hopes. But it was so faint. So far gone.
"Stop," he said, his voice rough. "I'm not that person anymore."
Shara's eyes flashed with something like pain, but she didn't look away. "You don't get it, do you? You're not some weapon. You're not a machine to follow orders. You're still a person, Raden. A person who deserves to make his own choices, not be forced into a role you didn't ask for."
"I didn't ask for this," he whispered, almost to himself.
Shara reached out, touching his arm gently, a soft and fragile gesture. "Then stop. Stop following them. Stop letting them control you. You have a choice, Raden."
He looked down at her hand, the warmth of it grounding him for a moment. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to escape this nightmare. But he was too far gone, too deep into this life, into this role that had been carved out for him.
"I can't," he said, his voice hollow. "I can't just walk away. I have nothing else."
Shara's hand fell away, and she stepped back, her expression hardening, though there was still something gentle beneath the surface. "Then keep walking this path. But remember—one day, you're going to have to face who you've become. And when that day comes, I hope you can live with it."
Raden watched her turn and walk away, her silhouette dissolving into the darkness. He stood there for a long time after she was gone, the weight of her words pressing down on him, suffocating him.
Was it too late? Was it too late to change? To stop being what they had made him into?
As the castle loomed before him, Raden felt the coldness seep deeper into his bones. The choice was his, but it was never so simple. He could go back to the life he had, to the life he had been forced into. Or he could walk away, but where would that leave him?
The questions lingered, unanswered, as the night stretched on.