Regret ate me alive. This will be my greatest mistake, and I believe I'll carry its weight for years… perhaps for the rest of my life.
After that, we went to live in Elise's house, because we no longer had a home. But even there, protected, guilt consumed me every day. I distanced myself from Elian, not because I hated him— but because I hated myself for blaming him, even if only for an instant. He noticed, of course. And in his quiet kindness, he gave me space. He didn't press me, didn't ask anything. He simply let me feel.
A month later, before leaving for a meeting in a distant city, he did something I'll never forget. He brought me a crimson dress with blue and gold details. He said it matched my red hair and navy-blue eyes.
Even as I avoided him, even as I hid from my pain, he never stopped thinking of me. I looked at the gift in my hands and could only ask myself: how could I have been so foolish? How could I have left him alone that month, while he himself cried in secret? I saw it— yes, I saw him hiding tears when he thought no one was watching. And his crying hurt more than any words I might have said.
Then they left. One week away. One week in which every beat of my heart was pure anxiety. I just wanted to see him, to hug him, to never let go. I didn't want that distance anymore; I didn't want to carry that guilt.
And he came back.
But he didn't return alone. With him came a beautiful woman in military attire. A mage of the Dark Throne. Her bearing was firm, cold as steel, and her words… her words struck me hard.
She said that in a year Elian would go to a fortress. That he'd only return home every six months.
Six months.
My heart almost stopped just thinking about it. I didn't want to be so long without him. I wanted to go with him. I wanted to be the inseparable sister I had always been. But not everything is flowers. We can't always choose.
And that day, I realized the farewell had already begun, even before he departed.
He began meditating with the mage named Iolanda. I didn't want to disturb him, but I didn't want to stay away either, so I did what any child would do: I started interrupting, striking up conversations, inventing distractions. And the most curious thing is that he never complained. On the contrary, he seemed happy to share that time with me, even when I knew I was breaking his concentration.
At the same time, I trained more with Elise. One day, she asked if I wanted to enter the Tower of Wisdom. I froze. I didn't want to. What I wanted was to be in the Dark Throne, at Elian's side. But she was firm: she said I didn't have the profile for the Dark Throne, that my essence fit better with the Tower.
Yet inside me there was a suffocating fear: the fear of betraying my brother. The fear that, at some point, someone would say we were enemies. I didn't accept right away. I kept that weight in my heart until, on an ordinary day, I called Elian to "play"— the word I always used to disguise that I wanted to train or show my new spells. And, as always, he agreed with that wide smile, from ear to ear, that seemed to light up any room.
We trained. I showed him what I had learned: I could already combine spells, just as he did. The look of surprise and pride in his eyes made me explode with joy inside. Then I tried to show another, and failed— my hands trembled, the magic unraveled. Even so, he remained impressed, as if the failure didn't matter.
That was when I decided to tell him. I revealed that Elise had invited me to the Tower of Wisdom. And before I could hide what I felt, Mama added: she said I feared betraying my brother, that I was afraid of becoming his enemy.
He exploded.
"Never!" he shouted.
My heart sank. I took his shout as a rejection. I thought: "He'll never accept it. If I go, I'll be his enemy. I'd rather give up magic than lose my brother's love."
But before the tears fell, he spoke again. And his words changed everything.
"You will never be my enemy, Manu. Whether you join the Tower or not, we will always be siblings. No order will ever make me see you as an enemy."
His words went through me like an embrace. I felt the world begin to spin again. He had accepted it. More than that, he was happy for me.
After that, we kept training together. And each session became more precious, because time moved too fast.
At the founding of the Dark Throne's branch in Brumaria, we stepped down from the carriage together. That's when I heard an arrogant noble boy spew filthy words about me. I pretended I didn't hear. Pretended it wasn't about me. But Elian… ah, he would never pretend. He was beside me, holding my hand as we walked, and I felt his energy waver, cold and furious, as if it wanted to slip out of his control.
He didn't need to do anything. Mage Anna moved first, confronting that brat and putting him in his place. Seeing the noble wet himself with fear before her was almost comical, and I couldn't hold back a smile.
But what marked me was Elian's gaze. He didn't take his eyes off the boy, and his golden eyes—already as intense as pure gold—burned even brighter, contrasted by a blackness that looked ready to seep into them. In that instant, I realized: my brother was changing. He was no longer just the boy who played with me. He carried within him a dangerous force, which nonetheless always protected me.
And even so, I loved him all the more for it.
The branch's founding was done. Elian had been presented as the disciple of Elder Marduk, who always bore that severe, impenetrable gaze. And, at my brother's request, our whole family received the Dark Throne's protection. After that, the days rushed by: my ninth birthday, Elian's fifteen days later… and now, this day. The day he would leave for the Fortress.
"Elian," I called, trying to keep my voice from trembling.
"Yes?" he answered, cheerful, with that smile that could brighten even the heaviest moments.
"Don't you go crying over my absence, or Mama's," I said, masking my anguish with a playful smile.
"I'm not the crybaby of the family," he shot back, laughing. "That title is yours."
"I'm a girl, that's different. I'm a lady," I countered, lifting my chin with false pomp.
"A lady?" he laughed aloud. "Doesn't look like it."
His laughter was so natural, so free, that for a moment I forgot the weight of goodbye.
"But I haven't forgotten, Manu," he said firmly. "I'm still going to make you a lady of the court, like you said on my birthday."
"I said that joking!" I rolled my eyes, but my chest tightened. "I'll become a lady on my own; I don't need you to do it for me."
"I know," he said. "You'll be a great mage, and a beautiful lady… exactly as Papa wanted."
Papa's name cut like a knife. He had been my greatest encourager to train magic alongside Elian. His absence still hurt, but I knew: I couldn't chain myself to that grief forever. The best I could do was honor his memory.
Just as Elian would go far away, I would stay here in Brumaria, with Mama and Anthony. Elise would guide my studies, together with the Tower of Wisdom.
"Let's go, Elian," called Iolanda, already seated inside the Dark Throne's black-and-crimson carriage. Elder Marduk sat beside her.
My brother began saying goodbye to each of us.
"Mother, I'll be back soon. Six months pass quickly," he said, hugging her tight.
"I know, son…" Mama cried, clinging to him as if she never wanted to let go.
Then he looked to Anthony:
"Take care of Mama and Manu."
"Of course. I'll do my best," Anthony answered seriously, and for the first time in a long while, he seemed closer to Elian.
Finally, it was my turn.
"See you soon, Manu," he said, hugging me.
I held him tight, with no desire at all to let go. He leaned back just enough to look into my eyes:
"In six months I'll be back. I want to see how strong you've gotten, okay?"
"When you return, I'll be stronger than you," I promised, smiling through tears. "Don't expect me to go easy."
"Of course not," he laughed. "I don't want to lose to my older sister."
That was when I noticed: he was wearing the golden ribbon I'd given him long ago. Now it tied his hair.
"Take good care of it," I asked, my voice low, almost a whisper.
"And you take care of my grimoire," he replied.
I hugged him again, as if I could recharge myself with his presence. Before letting go, I kissed his forehead. I begged in silence—of the gods and of Papa—that they would protect him. And I promised myself: next time, I'll be the one to protect him.
Elian then climbed into the carriage. His ceremonial clothes—black and carmine, with golden embroidery—caught the sunlight, which was already at its zenith. Before the door closed, he turned and waved to us.
I stood there, unmoving, watching the carriage recede until it disappeared down the road. A warm wind blew, lifting my hair and passing between me and my family. For a moment, I closed my eyes and imagined it was Papa breathing courage into our hearts.
When I opened them, the road was empty. And I knew: six months would be an eternity.