Sitting there alone, Lucian could still hear those humiliating words echoing in his ears. His mind had turned into a battlefield of thoughts, where every idea pushed him deeper into guilt, yet among all that chaos, one thing remained clear—his sister, Lyra.
He knew she was extraordinary, someone meant to shine, and hearing others say she should stay away from him no longer felt wrong. Slowly, he began convincing himself, "I've heard these things my whole life… maybe it's time I accept them. If I step away, at least her light won't be dimmed because of me."
With effort, Lucian lifted his head, which had been lowered under the weight of his guilt. His trembling hands pressed against the wooden table as he forced himself to stand, his body still weak, yet his resolve now stronger than before.
Step by step, he walked toward the small wooden bridge built over the quiet stream nearby. Reaching the center, he stopped and rested his hands against the railing, staring up at the endless night sky, trying to settle the decision forming within him.
Just as he sank deeper into his thoughts, a familiar voice came from behind, calm and steady. "I told you, Lucian… if you listen to people, their words will weaken you. You should let them pass through you like air, Prince."
Lucian didn't react with surprise, already used to Elder Vyom appearing silently like this. He turned calmly and said, "How are you, Elder? Did you need something from me?"
Elder Vyom stroked his beard thoughtfully before replying, "No… I simply wished to speak with you. If you have the time, shall we talk?"
"You can speak, Elder," Lucian replied, his voice carrying a quiet emptiness. "It's not like I have anything else to do but pass time."
Elder Vyom sensed the pain hidden beneath those words but chose to focus on the matter at hand. "That evil spirit has been sealed here for thousands of years… its sudden awakening and behavior were not normal," he said slowly.
"I do not know the full history of Sylvarin Village myself," he continued, "because it was originally sealed long ago by a Ravencrest along with our ancestors. Whatever truly happened back then has been lost to time… and the few records that remain feel… false to me."
Elder Vyom looked directly into Lucian's eyes and spoke with quiet firmness, "Until we uncover the truth behind this, you will stay away from Sylvarin. I will speak to your father myself, so you need not worry—no legal action will be taken against you, because we know this was not your fault."
With that, he turned to leave, his decision already made, while Lucian simply stood there and nodded silently, his mind far more occupied with his own inner battle than with anything else.
After taking a few steps, Elder Vyom stopped again and glanced back at him. "You and your sister will be leaving tomorrow," he said, his voice calm yet meaningful, "I have decided to send Lyra to the Academy. You already know how talented she is… she has the potential to achieve something great."
He continued, "That also means the two of you may not see each other for several years, so once you return to the kingdom, spend as much time together as you can. Create memories… and remember, do not make decisions influenced by what others say."
Without waiting for a response, he walked away into the darkness, his figure slowly disappearing into the night. Lucian watched him go, a faint, bittersweet smile forming on his face as the meaning of those words settled within him.
"Well… that works," Lucian murmured to himself quietly. "The reason I needed… has already been given to me. I won't have to force distance between us—circumstances will do it instead."
His gaze lifted toward the endless sky as he whispered, "All I want… is for Lyra to shine like a star, no matter how far that sky is from me."
The cold darkness of the night slowly faded, replaced by the golden light of dawn, as Lucian lay in his chamber, wrapped tightly in his blanket, lost in deep sleep. After that long conversation with Elder Vyom, he had spent hours staring at the stars, and sleep had come late—but now, it held him completely.
Suddenly, loud knocks echoed against the heavy wooden door, breaking the silence. "Wake up, brother! It's time for departure! How long are you planning to sleep? Open the door already!" Lyra's voice called out from the other side.
Still half-asleep, Lucian turned slightly and muttered, "What is it… I'm coming. It's not like we're heading into a crusade that requires such urgency…"
Hearing his lazy response, Lyra lost her patience completely. Without another word, she kicked the door hard with her boot, and the force broke the latch, sending the old wooden door bursting open with a loud crash.
The loud crash instantly shattered Lucian's sleep, and he sat up abruptly, his eyes widening as he looked toward the door. Lyra stood there, her face flushed with anger, while a corner of the wooden door had cracked from the force of her kick. Rubbing his blurred eyes and letting out a long yawn, Lucian muttered lazily, "Lyra… since when did you become this aggressive? You should learn some patience… I think you've been spending too much time with Mentor Messi."
Lyra frowned and walked toward his bed with heavy steps, placing her hands on her waist as she examined him closely. His silver hair was completely messy, and the dark circles beneath his blue eyes made it clear he hadn't rested properly. "How many times have I told you to stop staying awake half the night? That's why you can't wake up at sunrise," she said sharply, though beneath her tone, there was a hidden sense of relief.
She had barely slept herself, worrying about him all night, and had rushed here even before the carriage arrived just to check on him. Softening slightly, she added in a quieter voice, "I'm glad… you look better than yesterday."
Lucian had heard her, and a faint smile crossed his face. "Are you still troubled by what happened yesterday? Don't worry… I'm used to these things. I just wanted a little time alone."
Lyra immediately raised a finger toward him in warning, her expression firm. "Fine, I'll forgive you this time… but next time, you will listen to me, and you will not push me away like you did last night."
Lucian gave a gentle, faint smile and nodded slowly. "Alright… I'll keep that in mind."
Lyra let out a long breath as her anger finally settled. "Good… now get ready quickly, we're leaving for the Ravencrest Kingdom. I'm really excited to meet mother and father again, and if you need help with packing—"
"I'll manage on my own," Lucian interrupted calmly. "You should focus on your own preparations… I'm your older brother, after all—I should be the one asking if you need help."
Lyra turned and began walking toward the door, replying without looking back, "No, I'm grown enough to take care of myself now… you should stop being lazy and get ready."
As she stepped out, the sound of her footsteps slowly faded into the corridor, leaving the room in silence once again. The moment the door closed, Lucian's smile disappeared, his eyes lowering as if all light had drained from them.
In a quiet voice, he whispered to himself, "I'm ready, Lyra… I can do anything for your happiness… even if it means staying away from you forever."
At the borders of Sylvian Village, a slow gathering of carriages had begun to form. Grand vehicles belonging to noble families lined the entrance, each one arriving to take their heirs back home. Some parents had come personally, while others had only sent armed soldiers in their place.
Among them stood a few commoner families as well, their worn clothes and humble presence making them look almost invisible in the eyes of the nobles. To the aristocrats, these poor villagers were nothing more than fortunate beggars, granted opportunity only through the generosity of Ravencrest—people who, in their eyes, should feel honored just to stand in its shadow.
At that moment, a group of children came running out from the village gates toward their waiting families.
Many were smiling, their faces filled with excitement, while others walked more quietly, disappointed that only guards had been sent to retrieve them.
Amidst the crowd, Rainer stepped forward. His parents stood at one side, their aged appearance and worn-out clothes marking them clearly as farmers who had spent their lives working the fields.
Their presence spoke of a life of hardship, one that the noble eyes around them barely acknowledged.
Rainer held tightly to the books and scrolls that had been given to him by the village elder, each one chosen according to the abilities of the students. He had ranked sixth among all the children—a remarkable achievement for someone of his background, something that should have filled him with pride.
Yet his eyes carried no such excitement. Instead, there was a quiet confusion within them, as if something far deeper weighed on his mind.
His mother, Mary, bent down gently and cupped his face with concern. "What happened, Rainer? Did someone trouble you? Did any noble raise a hand against you? Let me see!" she said anxiously, checking him over as if expecting hidden wounds.
Behind her, his father spoke in a heavy voice, "That's how these noble children are, Mary. They enjoy tormenting people like us. But he seems fine… calm down."
Mary let out a relieved breath and held Rainer's hand. "Come, son, we should go now. I've made something special for you at home—you'll like it."
As they began to leave, Rainer turned back one last time, his gaze lingering on the village. There was a restless feeling inside him, a desire to do something he could not yet understand or put into words. Just then, in the distance, a magnificent royal carriage appeared, racing toward the entrance at great speed.
It was entirely black, adorned with a golden raven engraved upon its surface—a symbol that unmistakably declared it belonged to the Ravencrest royal family itself. The gold patterns gleamed under the sunlight, while the four massive black stallions pulling it looked almost divine in their strength and presence. Behind it, four escort carriages followed closely, raising clouds of dust as they thundered forward.
Every person present—whether noble, merchant, or commoner—found their eyes drawn toward that display of overwhelming grandeur. Across the entire continent, no family possessed wealth and presence like Ravencrest. Rainer, too, looked toward the carriage as it came to a proud halt at the gate. Soldiers clad in impenetrable black plate armor dismounted from their horses with disciplined precision, while from the escort carriages behind, maids stepped down and lined up in perfect order, their posture filled with quiet reverence.
"Don't look there, Rainer," Mary said nervously, gripping his hand tightly. "They are the sky… and we are nothing but a piece of dust on the ground. Keep your head down and walk. If their eyes fall upon you and they feel even the slightest disrespect, Ravencrest soldiers deliver cruel deaths. This 'Dark Family' is the most terrifying and mysterious of them all." Her voice trembled as she spoke.
Rainer looked at her, confused. "But mother, I've heard that Ravencrest protects its people and delivers justice to everyone."
"You're not wrong, child," Mary replied, her tone still uneasy, "but never forget—they are still the Dark Family. Their laws are strict beyond measure. The royal family itself may be kind, which is why we live freely… but those who serve under them are not all the same. To them, people like us are no more than insects."
Rainer understood the fear in her words. He glanced at his father, who walked silently beside them, hands in his pockets, as if none of the surrounding grandeur mattered to him at all. Realizing there was no point in arguing further, Rainer lowered his head and continued walking quietly.
The commoner families were the first to leave, guiding their children away without delay. None of them wished to remain any longer under the arrogant gaze of the nobles. Elder Vyom, well aware of this fragile social divide, stood near the main gate himself. As each child and their family passed, he offered his blessings and wished them a safe journey. The children bowed respectfully to their guide before leaving, their gratitude evident in their gestures.
Behind them, Finn walked forward carrying a heavy stack of books and scrolls in his arms. His expression was tense, irritation clearly visible on his face. Lucian stepped closer and extended a hand to help, but Finn refused with a formal stiffness that felt unusual.
"You are a prince, Lord Lucian. If you carry this burden, it would be an insult to my position," Finn said, his voice carrying an unfamiliar politeness.
Lucian immediately noticed the change. With a faint smirk, he teased lightly, "Oh? 'Lord,' is it? You never showed such manners back in Sylvian. Or was your behavior with the other noble children also part of your usual indiscipline, Senior?"
Finn looked slightly embarrassed as he replied, "Inside Sylvian, we were all equal—whether king or commoner. There, I was your senior, so you couldn't really do anything to me. But now… things are different, Lord Lucian."
Lucian slowed his pace, a faint smile forming on his lips. "And what exactly has changed today? We're still within the village boundaries, aren't we?"
Finn adjusted the weight of the books in his arms and let out a long breath. "You are leaving today. We are no longer senior and student. I cannot behave with the same arrogance anymore. And please… stop asking questions, it's making it harder for me to walk."
Lucian sighed softly. "Hmm… alright. We'll meet again then."
Under his breath, Finn muttered, "I'd rather die before seeing you again." Lucian didn't quite catch what he said, and the two continued forward in silence.
Just then, Lyra rushed past them, clutching her beloved dragon book. "You both are walking far too slowly! Hurry up—we shouldn't keep anyone waiting!" she called cheerfully as she moved ahead. Lucian watched her with a quiet smile.
Seeing that innocent excitement on her face, Lucian's thoughts drifted back to a moment from just a little while ago, when they had been preparing to leave their chamber. He had seen Lyra standing by the window, and something in his chest had tightened.
He had asked her quietly, "Don't you feel even a little sad about leaving this place, Lyra? This was like a childhood dream for you… every corner here holds your memories."
Lyra had paused while arranging her books and gave a faint smile. There was a quiet maturity hidden in her voice as she replied, "Brother, if I let myself drown in my emotions, I won't be able to leave. So I'm choosing to walk out without thinking too much. Besides… I'll be returning in a few days. Elder himself will teach me the arcane arts."
She then looked at him and asked softly, "But what about you, brother… are you sad?"
Lucian had given no answer. Instead, he silently picked up his own heavy books and placed them on top of Lyra's smaller pile, as if he wished to carry not only her burden—but her future as well.
Just then, Mentor Messi and Finn had entered the chamber. Messi spoke with composed politeness, "Lord Lucian, Lady Lyra, are you prepared? Finn will assist with your belongings. I must remain in the village for some duties, so I wish you both a safe journey." With that, she turned and walked out into the corridor.
Lyra immediately burst into laughter, glancing at Finn. "Senior Messi has trapped you with us, Senior Finn!" she teased playfully, while Finn simply sighed and gave a faint, resigned smile.
Lucian returned to the present, a slight smile still resting on his face. Finn noticed it and grew momentarily confused, unable to understand what had caused it.
At the gate, Elder Vyom gently placed his hand on Lyra's head. "Go now, child. We will meet again in a few days. You are excited, aren't you?"
Lyra nodded brightly. "Yes, Elder! I'm very excited. You will visit Ravencrest Castle, right?"
Lowering his voice slightly, Elder replied, "Of course. So when you reach home, spend as much time with your family as you can. I will come to take you soon."
Lyra nodded eagerly and performed a small curtsy, holding the edges of her dress with care. Meanwhile, Finn quickly handed over all the luggage and books to the maids before stretching his arms, relieved from the heavy weight. His gaze then shifted toward Lucian, who had bowed silently to the Elder and, without saying a word, began walking toward his grand carriage.
The maids respectfully helped Lady Lyra into the carriage, guiding her onto the soft silk seats, while from the other side, Prince Lucian entered on his own—quiet, composed, like a shadow slipping into place. Outside, the soldiers in their polished black armor tightened their reins, preparing for departure.
The maids hurried toward the carriage to attend to both Lucian and Lyra, but Lucian stopped them with a calm command. He had already given clear instructions—none of them were to sit inside with him.
They were to remain in the escort carriages behind and only appear when called upon.