Chương 77: Prince (3)

It had been two months since Prince Tyre had taken to the quiet solitude of the forest. In that time, he had undergone a transformation—both physically and mentally. The quiet of the woods had been the perfect crucible for his breakthrough. No distractions, no pretenses, just the pure hum of nature and the sound of his own thoughts.

He'd spent weeks refining his powers, pushing himself beyond the limits of what he once thought possible. Every night, as the stars crept across the sky, he would practice, focusing his will on the water that pulsed through his veins, on the storm that raged in his mind. And then, finally, one fateful evening, as the moon hung low and heavy in the sky, he'd broken through.

Master Rank.

It had come to him not with a grand flash, but in a moment of calm clarity. One moment, his control was good, but the next—he was something more. The world had shifted beneath his feet, the energy around him flowing like a current he could now control with the slightest thought. His body had become attuned to the very essence of the world, as though the Earth itself was an extension of his own limbs.

The next day,Tyre stood in the clearing, feeling the weight of his new power.

"I'm not the same anymore," he whispered to himself, his breath catching in his throat. For a moment, he just stood there, listening to the forest around him. The chirp of crickets. The rustling of leaves. It all felt different. As if he were part of the very pulse of the world. He could feel every inch of the forest, every blade of grass, the flow of the river, as if it were all flowing through him.

But as powerful as he now felt, a bitter truth gnawed at him.

He had to leave.

The forest had been a sanctuary, a place where Marcus could shut out the world and focus solely on his growth. But it was also a reminder of the life he had been forced to put on hold. There was a responsibility waiting for him—the throne, his family, the empire. And it was calling him back.

But there was another reason for his departure. Elira.

Their time together had been nothing short of magical. She had become a constant presence in his life, a quiet strength and a source of comfort. Her laughter, the way she moved through the world with such purpose, had slowly crept into his heart. But he couldn't stay. Not like this.

He knew that if he told her the truth—if he said goodbye to her face—he would never leave. He would remain in the small cottage, working in the garden, laughing with her over dinner, forever. And he couldn't do that. Not when the weight of the empire rested on his shoulders.

So, he wrote her a letter. A simple message, delivered by a bird he had summoned. He couldn't bring himself to speak the words aloud, so he let the ink on paper do it for him.

***

Elira sat in the small cottage by the window, the quiet hum of the forest surrounding her. She had spent the past few months in a daze, the peaceful solitude of the woods offering little solace. She had tried to keep herself busy, tending to the garden, making small repairs to the cottage, but there was always something missing. Something that had left a hole in her heart.

It had been two months since Marcus had left. She hadn't heard from him, and at first, she told herself it was fine. He was a man with responsibilities, she understood that. The world, as it always did, had called him away. But as the days turned into weeks, the gnawing ache in her chest grew louder. She told herself he would come back. He promised he would. But he hadn't.

It wasn't until this morning that the bird came.

A small, unassuming creature had flown into the open window, carrying something tied to its leg. Elira's heart skipped a beat when she saw the scroll. She recognized the simple, neat handwriting instantly. It was Marcus's. The name on the parchment was unmistakable.

She unfolded it carefully, her hands trembling as she read the words written in ink, each one heavy with finality.

The Letter:

Elira,

There are no words that could capture how much your presence in my life has meant. You are a part of something I never thought I would allow myself to care for. But I have to go now.

The time has come for me to return to my world. There is much waiting for me, much that I can't run from. I don't want to leave, but I have no choice. You deserve someone who can stand beside you, not someone who will be torn between two worlds.

I can't stay, Elira. But I promise you, I will return.

Until then, know that a piece of me will always remain with you.

— Marcus.

The words seemed to blur together as Elira's vision clouded. She read them again, and again, her heart sinking deeper with each pass.

I promise I will return...

But what did that mean? Would he come back? Or was that just something he wrote to soften the blow? He'd left without a word, without saying goodbye. Two months. Two months of silence, of wondering if something had happened to him, if she had lost him forever. And now, after all that time, he was telling her he was leaving again.

Her chest tightened painfully as she reread the words. "I can't stay, Elira..." It felt like a knife to her heart. How could he leave without telling her? Without a proper goodbye? Had she meant so little to him? Was this all just a fleeting moment for him, something he could walk away from so easily?

She had known, somewhere deep inside, that Marcus had to leave at some point. He wasn't just some ordinary man—he was destined for something far greater. But she had convinced herself that they would find a way to make it work, that their connection was real, that it mattered. But now, reading those words, it felt like it had all been a dream. A beautiful dream that was slipping through her fingers like sand.

A single tear fell onto the paper, and she wiped it away, only to have more follow in its wake. Her throat tightened, and the lump in her chest grew. She could feel her heart breaking, the weight of the realization that the man she had grown so close to was gone, and she had never even had the chance to say goodbye.

I liked him. I really liked him...

The thought came to her suddenly, and it hit her like a wave. She had fallen for him, hadn't she? How had it happened? She hadn't meant for it to. At first, it had just been companionship, someone to talk to, someone to share the quiet moments with. But somewhere along the way, her heart had begun to ache whenever he was away. She had missed him in ways she couldn't explain, and now it all made sense.

It was obvious, wasn't it? How could she have not seen it before? His absence had left a hole in her life she couldn't fill, no matter how hard she tried. His laughter, his smile, the way he always knew just what to say when the world felt too heavy—it had all been a part of her every day, even in the smallest of ways.

And now... now he was gone.

Elira pressed the letter to her chest, her breath coming in shaky gasps. She could feel the tears spilling over, each one a reminder of what she had lost, what she might never have again. She had grown so attached to him, and now he was telling her he couldn't stay. I will return... His words echoed in her mind, but the more she thought about them, the more they sounded like a hollow promise. She wanted to believe him, wanted to hold onto the hope that he would come back for her.

"Why didn't you say goodbye to my face?" she whispered through her sobs, staring at the letter in her hands. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving? Why didn't you let me say goodbye...?"

But there was no answer. Just the stillness of the room and the faint sound of the wind rustling through the trees outside.

Elira collapsed onto the bed, clutching the letter to her chest, her body wracked with sobs. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. She had wanted so much more, had let herself believe that there was a future for them. But now, it seemed that future had been ripped away from her in a single stroke.

Her thoughts drifted to Marcus—his laugh, his strength, the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention. She could still feel the warmth of his presence, even now, as if he were still there beside her. But the truth was clear: Marcus was not hers to keep. He had a destiny, a path that was leading him away from everything he had known. Away from her.

And all Elira could do was cry.

***

The return to the empire was nothing short of a spectacle.

When Tyre stepped back into the capital, the streets filled with whispers. It had been a year since the "disappearance" of the Crown Prince. The rumors had been rampant—some said he had died in battle, others claimed he had gone into hiding. But none of them were true. And now, Marcus was back, stronger than ever.

He stood before the Emperor's throne, feeling the weight of his father's gaze. The old man was a towering figure—both in stature and presence. But even the Emperor couldn't hide his joy at seeing his son return.

"My son," the Emperor boomed, standing to embrace Marcus. "You've come back to us, and you've done well. I knew you had it in you."

Tyre swallowed the lump in his throat, bowing low. "I've done what I must, Father. The world is changing. And I intend to be ready for it."

The Emperor smiled, his eyes gleaming with pride. "You've broken through. You're a Master now, just like me. I knew you'd be the one."

But as the Emperor spoke, Tyre could feel the eyes of his siblings on him. His half-brothers and half-sisters stood at the back of the room, their faces tight with fear and envy. None of them had reached Master Rank, not even close. They were all skilled warriors, but none had broken through to the pinnacle of human power like Tyre had.

One of his brothers, Lucius, took a step forward, his voice tense. "It seems the prodigal son has returned. How convenient for the throne."

Tyre could feel the hostility in his words, but he didn't respond. Not yet.

"The throne is mine to claim," Tyre said quietly, his gaze steady. "I've come back to do what's necessary for the future of this empire."

Lucius sneered, his jaw tightening. "Don't be too sure of that, brother. There's always room for competition."

The Emperor chuckled, clapping his hands together. "Enough of that, Lucius. Marcus is the one who has proven himself. The rest of you have a lot of work to do."

***

The tension in the room was palpable. Tyre could feel it in the air, thick and heavy, as his siblings continued to eye him. None of them could challenge his strength, not now that he was a Master. But they weren't going to let him take the throne easily.

As Tyre left the throne room, his thoughts drifted back to Elira. What was she doing? Did she even know he was alive? He hoped she had some semblance of peace. He had to return to her. But not yet.

He couldn't let his heart rule him now. The empire needed him.

That night, as Tyre sat in his chambers, looking out over the city, he felt a coldness settle in his chest. The power he had gained—the title he was about to inherit—it all came with a price. He had broken through to Master Rank, yes, but he had also severed the connection to the life he had been building with Elira.

And now, the truth was undeniable. The throne was his. But his heart? It still belonged to her.

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