After finishing packing my things, I looked around the room one last time.
The ceremonial clothes I had worn during the talent assessment were still lying on the bed.
A white shirt.
Black trousers.
Neat embroidery.
And the torn spot on the chest where the crest of the Kray Empire had been just a short while ago.
My gaze lingered on it involuntarily.
Strange.
Just this morning, I had woken up here as the Seventh Prince of the Empire.
And now, I was preparing to leave the castle under a different name.
I slowly looked away and turned my attention to the open wardrobe.
Everything inside remained exactly where it had always been.
Neatly hung shirts, warm cloaks, a couple of training outfits, and several expensive doublets I had been required to wear during official occasions.
Every single item bore the imperial crest.
I took none of them.
Not because I did not want to.
But because I no longer had the right to.
These things no longer belonged to me.
Just like everything else in this room.
Into my travel bag went only the bare essentials.
A few plain shirts.
A change of clothes.
Personal hygiene items.
A small pouch of gold.
Everything that remained of my former life fit into a single travel bag.
The thought made me let out an involuntary smile.
Bitter.
Almost soundless.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I allowed myself—for the first time today—to simply stop.
Not think about the future.
Not try to process what had happened.
But simply look at the place where nearly my entire life had passed.
My gaze drifted toward the bookshelves.
How many evenings had I spent with those books, trying to understand the fundamentals of magic and find at least some explanation for why my talent had never manifested?
History of the Empire.
Military strategy.
Theory of magical flows.
Politics of neighboring kingdoms.
I studied everything I could get my hands on.
As though knowledge alone might somehow compensate for my lack of strength.
Shifting my gaze a little farther, I looked at the writing desk.
I had spent countless hours there.
Sometimes completing assignments given by my tutors.
Sometimes simply drawing meaningless symbols in the margins of books whenever I could not focus.
Sometimes sitting there until deep into the night, staring out the window and wondering why that strange dream had continued to haunt me ever since childhood.
My eyes lifted to the window.
Beyond it stretched a view of the castle's inner courtyard.
Every morning, the sound of clashing swords and the voices of training guards drifted in from there.
At times, I had spent hours watching their drills, imagining that one day I too would become strong enough that no one would ever again look at me with pity or contempt.
A foolish childhood hope.
But once, it had helped me keep moving forward.
I slowly ran my palm across the bedspread.
On this bed, I had fallen asleep after gRu'Eling training sessions.
Woken from nightmares.
Been sick.
Read books beneath the blanket by the light of a magic crystal so my tutors would not discover that I was awake yet again in the middle of the night.
No matter how many memories were tied to this place, none of it mattered anymore.
The room no longer belonged to me.
Just like the castle itself.
Perhaps this was what people called longing.
When you realized you were not merely leaving a place behind—
but an entire part of your life.
I understood perfectly well that I would never return here again.
There was no reason for me to return.
In the eyes of the Empire, I no longer held any value.
Not as an heir.
Not as a mage.
Not even as a political tool capable of bringing some form of benefit.
Even the name I had lived with my entire life no longer belonged to me.
Aluric would remain here.
Within these walls.
In this room.
Among the belongings I could no longer call my own.
As for me, I had to leave this castle as someone else.
Tray.
The thought made something inside me tighten unpleasantly.
Lowering my gaze to the travel bag lying beside me, I let out a heavy breath.
Strange.
In a single day, one could lose more than in an entire lifetime before it.
Lost in my thoughts, I did not notice the sky outside gradually darkening.
Only when I heard a soft knock at the door did I slowly lift my head.
"Come in," I said quietly, forcing myself to cast aside the wave of melancholy.
The door opened almost immediately.
One of the palace servants entered the room.
As always, his movements were restrained and precise.
Stopping a few steps away from me, he bowed respectfully.
"Prince Aluric, everything is prepared for your departure."
For a moment, an involuntary smile touched my lips.
He was still addressing me by my old name.
As if nothing had happened.
As if only a few hours ago, I had not been stripped of the right to bear it.
It felt almost ironic.
And painful at the same time.
The servant straightened and continued,
"Please, follow me."
I silently nodded.
Rising from the bed, I picked up my travel bag and slung it over my shoulder.
My gaze swept across the room one final time.
The bed.
The writing desk.
The bookshelves.
As though I were trying to preserve every detail of this place in my memory.
As though I feared I would begin forgetting with time.
Taking a deep breath, I looked away.
It no longer mattered now.
That part of my life was already behind me.
Turning around, I headed toward the door.
As before, two guards stood by the entrance.
Noticing me, they straightened and followed behind us, taking up their usual positions on either side.
We moved through the familiar corridors of the castle.
Without meaning to, I found myself glancing around.
My eyes traced the stone walls, tall windows, and the banners of the Kray Empire hanging along the corridors.
Too many memories were tied to these halls.
Here, I had run as a child while hiding from my tutors.
Here, I had received my first punishment for attempting to sneak into the library at night.
And here, too, I had returned after exhausting training sessions, hoping that one day I would prove I was worth something as well.
With every step, the heaviness inside me grew stronger.
As though with these corridors, I was leaving behind not merely the place where I had grown up, but an entire part of myself.
My chest tightened unpleasantly.
My thoughts tangled.
I wanted to stop.
To turn around.
To look at all of this just once more and somehow convince myself that everything happening was nothing more than a bad dream.
But I kept walking forward.
My steps steady.
My back straight.
Not allowing a single emotion to escape.
Not now.
Not at the moment when even my own home was sending me away like a stranger.
Descending into the inner courtyard, we headed toward one of the towers.
The night air was cooler than I had expected.
It helped cool my overheated thoughts, if only slightly.
The farther we moved away from the residential section of the castle, the fewer people remained around us.
Most of the servants had already retired to their quarters.
Only the occasional guards still remained on duty, while somewhere in the distance, light still glowed from the kitchens.
The cooks were probably finishing their work.
Stopping before the tower's massive door, the servant knocked briefly.
The door opened almost instantly.
Standing at the threshold was the very same young woman who had overseen the talent assessment.
Her silver hair fell softly over her shoulders, faintly shimmering in the torchlight.
A loose white robe concealed her figure, making it impossible to determine either her build or age.
Yet there was a strange composure in her gaze.
As though she was observing me with far greater interest than she should have been.
"Prince Aluric, come with me."
Her voice was melodic and calm.
After a brief pause, she shifted her gaze toward the others accompanying me.
"The rest of you are dismissed."
The servant and guards bowed silently.
A few moments later, only she and I remained inside the tower.
The young woman studied me carefully for another moment before silently stepping aside, allowing me to enter.
I noted involuntarily that such behavior toward a prince would normally be considered a breach of etiquette.
But the thought only made me smile inwardly.
I was no longer a prince.
So I did not care.
We began ascending the spiral staircase.
Torches lined the walls, filling the narrow space with flickering golden light.
Our footsteps echoed dully against the stone walls.
After several minutes of climbing, we entered a spacious room at the top of the tower.
It looked almost exactly as I remembered it.
Tall bookshelves lined the walls, filled with ancient tomes.
A massive metal cauldron stood in one corner.
And in the center of the room was the very same table upon which the mana stone had rested only a few hours earlier.
Only now, it was empty.
We walked farther.
Passing through a neighboring door, we entered another chamber.
And that was when I froze.
Before me stood a large stone archway.
Its entire surface was covered in inscriptions written in a language unfamiliar to me.
Ancient symbols glowed faintly in the dim light.
Stepping closer, the young woman placed her palm against one of the symbols and began activating the mechanism.
The inscriptions gradually lit up.
First with a soft green glow.
Then blue.
After that, the light began intensifying, while the symbols themselves started vibrating ever so slightly.
A few seconds later, the space within the arch distorted.
As though reality itself had begun to shift.
A swirling current of mana began forming between the stone edges, resembling a vortex.
It grew denser.
Brighter.
Until at last, blurred silhouettes began appearing within.
Someone was moving on the other side of the portal.