After the trial, they say we get a full year of breath.
A year to rest.
That's how they put it.
But it's not really like that. It's just another way of saying:
Get ready for death. Or as they call it here, the Dark Valley.
Honestly? I'm not worried.
I'm already stronger than most of them.
But I still train every day. I don't trust the idea of luck. Never did.
More stronger the better —
If you want to live carefree enjoying life, then you gotta be strong. That's just how it is.
Since that night… that midnight visit, my father hasn't come again.
For the better.
But there's something off about it.
I can feel it. I just don't understand it.
I don't know my father at all.
And honestly, I don't care enough unless he become an obstacle to my path to peaceful life, just me and my sword.
---
And about Danny...
.. I've only exchanged letters with him so far.
He writes like I'm some little kid. I don't mind.
I'll meet him someday at the Academy—maybe when I turn seventeen.
The Academy lasts three full years. But I doubt I'll stay that long.
Why would I?
Wasting time learning things I already know?
Making friends? Pointless.
Building connections? Useless to me.
Sure, knowledge never ends. But I'm not hungry for it.
I'll do what I have to.
Save the earth, maybe...
And if I can't?
I'll step aside. Live quietly until it all falls apart.
Plan A and Plan B.
Both work for me.
---
For now, I'll travel.
Go outside. Not too far. I have to be back before twelve.
No one in Crimsonveil knows their real birth date, so everyone's is marked as January 1st. Cute system.
I told Simon about my plans. Of course, the loyal puppy wanted to follow.
> "Let me come with you," he said.
> "No."
Simple. Calm. Didn't need to raise my voice.
He understood.
> "Should I help you pack, then?"
I stared at him. Was he serious?
But honestly, I couldn't be bothered. Too lazy.
> "Fine. Do it. Fast."
He packed my bag like it was some sacred task.
Threw in things I didn't care to check.
Whatever. I wasn't carrying it. I had a storage ring.
And money—not mine, but that made it even better.
---
Letter from Elarion
To Danny. To Sirus. To Rior. To Marcus.
This isn't urgent. No one's dead.
I'm writing to let you know: I'll be away for a while.
Don't ask where. It's not somewhere worth following.
Call it a vacation if you want. I don't. But that's what it'll look like.
No, nothing's happened. I simply decided it was time to leave for a bit.
You all have things to handle on your end. Let me handle mine my way.
If something important happens, you know how to reach me.
Don't get the wrong idea. This isn't a farewell.
I'll come back when I feel like it.
Until then, stay alive.
Don't make me clean up your mess when I return.
And the reason I wrote it?
Don't waste paper writing letters.
—Elarion
---
I stood from my desk, walking towards my packed bag.
The mirror near the bed caught my reflection.
Black hair. Straight, slightly messy. I didn't fix it.
One red eye, one blue. Cold. Sharp. Not entirely human.
A gaze that makes people look away first.
Pale skin, maybe from training indoors.
Lean muscle. Strong, not bulky. Built for precision.
Dark long-sleeved shirt. Black pants. Gloves up to the wrists.
Silver chain around my neck—a gift from Rior.
I took it because it was shiny and free.
My sword? Worn like a bracelet now. Always with me.
Bag—inside the ring. Blade—strapped under my coat.
Same face. Same eyes.
Just colder than before.
And my face will be hidden behind a mask, the typical Crimsonveil's mask after I left.
End of pov.
---
Elarion stepped outside ...
The sky was grey when I stepped outside.
Herua was waiting at the gate, arms crossed.
> "You really going?" he asked.
> "I said I was."
He frowned deeper. "Only for a year… still feels weird."
From the training yard, some Crimsonveil trainee called lazily:
> "Oi, Herua. He's not going to die, you know! Just a year!"
> "Shut up! Mind your own business!"
> "Tch, acting like he's your bride off to war..."
I didn't react. But Herua stumbled hard: "It's not like that—!"
> "You done?" I asked.
Herua shoved something into my hand. A wrapped candy.
> "For the road. Don't make fun of me."
Despite everything, a little mischief is what keeps you alive.
The background guy was cackling now.
> "Seriously, Herua, you're embarrassing—"
But before he could finish, someone dropped down from the wall behind him.
Literally dropped.
> "Ow," said Rior, dusting off his coat. "You weren't supposed to move, Bon."
> "I didn't move," Bon replied flatly. "Bour pushed you."
Bour crossed his arms. "You were taking too long."
Sirus landed a moment later with perfect posture. Of course.
> "You ran away again," I said.
Rior grinned. "Technically, we strolled quickly and jumped off a roof."
> "You're going back after this."
> "Sure. Sure. We just came to—uh—supervise the departure," he said, stepping closer.
> "Supervise?" I narrowed my eyes.
> "Alright fine. We came to make sure you actually left, not ghosted us."
>"The letter got to you very fast" said Herua
> " Well we got ways" said Herua avoiding eye contact.
I brushed it off, they are the same as always.
Bon stepped forward next, quiet and direct.
> "We'll hold things down here."
Bour nodded, tapping two fingers to his chest like a silent vow.
Sirus just looked at me. Not saying much. But his gaze was enough.
> "Come back in one piece," he said. "Even if only for the candy."
Rior snorted. "I swear, if you die during your little vacation, I will resurrect you just to punch you."
Herua shoved his hands in his sleeves, glancing away, ears still pink.
And for a second…
It felt like a send-off.
Not a farewell. Just a pause.
> "I'll be back," I said again.
Bon raised one hand, two fingers to his brow in a slow salute.
Bour mirrored it.
Sirus nodded once.
Rior held out a closed fist.
I bumped it lightly.
Herua muttered, "Don't let anyone stab you. That's my job."
I smirked.
Then turned.
And walked into the wind.
Leaving behind this mess of a house behind for an year.
--