The kingdom of Thalpegas, renowned for its strong and stable military and political power compared to other kingdoms, glittered magnificently under the midday sun. The palace, with its high towers and walls adorned with carvings of war gods, was a symbol of unmatched glory. Its territories stretched far, encompassing several forests and mountains that bordered smaller kingdoms. That day, Gareth, a famous blacksmith, stepped through the palace gates carrying a wooden box containing a sword commissioned by a soldier. Beside him, his son, Alden, walked while sneaking curious glances at his surroundings.
Alden, only twelve years old, felt like a small bird flying into an eagle's nest. The vast, shining marble hall, the tall pillars that seemed to reach for the sky, and the soldiers standing proudly in their armor captivated him.
"Don't wander off, Alden," Gareth whispered in a low voice as he handed the sword box to a palace guard. "This palace is not a place for play."
But the curiosity in Alden's heart was unstoppable. As his father began a serious conversation with the soldier, Alden spotted a garden peeking from behind a large door at the end of the corridor. He stepped slowly, trying not to attract attention, and finally reached the palace garden.
There, Alden fell silent. The garden seemed like another world. Neatly trimmed trees shaded a path lined with white gravel, while roses of various colors bloomed, filling the air with a sweet, fragrant scent. In the middle of the garden, a girl stood alone. Her white dress fluttered softly in the wind, and her golden hair shone like a crown under the sunlight.
Alden couldn't look away. The girl turned, noticing his presence.
"Who are you?" she asked, her tone firm, though her green eyes seemed more curious than angry.
Alden immediately bowed, feeling awkward. "I... I'm Alden, the blacksmith's son. My father is delivering a sword for the palace soldiers."
The girl tilted her head, as if assessing his honesty. Then, a small smile graced her face. "I am Princess Elena," she said. "So, you're a blacksmith's son? Do you know how to use a sword?"
Alden shook his head with a shy smile. "No. I just help my father make them. But I know one thing: a sword is like a person's soul. If it's forged well, it will be strong and endure."
Elena stared at Alden with wide eyes, impressed. "That's... deep words for a blacksmith's son. You must be a poet in disguise."
Alden blushed, scratching the back of his head. "I'm just saying what my father taught me."
Elena stepped closer, now only a few steps from Alden. "You're different," she said, crossing her arms. "I've never met a child like you. Usually, everyone here only talks about war and politics."
Alden didn't know what to say, so he just smiled. But before he could answer, his father's stern voice broke the silence.
"Alden!" Gareth walked quickly towards them, his face flushed with anxiety. "What are you doing here? I told you not to wander off!"
Alden immediately stood up straight, bracing for a scolding. However, before Gareth could continue, Princess Elena stepped forward.
"Master Gareth," she said in a soft but firm tone, "allow him to keep me company a little longer. I promise he will return safely."
Gareth looked hesitant. "Your Highness, I don't want to trouble you—"
"It's no trouble at all," Elena interrupted with a smile. "Besides, I'm tired of listening to advisors talk all day. Your son is much more interesting."
Gareth could only nod in resignation. Alden glanced at his father with a mix of guilt and joy, while Elena took Alden's hand and led him to a corner of the garden.
"Have you ever seen the palace from the hilltop?" Elena asked, pointing into the distance.
Alden shook his head. "No, I've never left my village."
"Then you must tell me about your village," Elena said, sitting on a stone bench. "Life outside the palace always sounds so interesting to me."
With enthusiasm, Alden began to tell her about his village—the small river where the children played, the market filled with the smell of spices, and how he often helped his father in the workshop. Elena listened attentively, letting out small laughs when Alden recounted funny incidents, like the time he almost hit himself with a forging hammer.
When Gareth finally called Alden back, it was hard for him to leave. Elena waved with a warm smile. "I'm glad I met you, Alden. Maybe next time you can tell me more about your village."
Alden nodded. "And maybe... I could learn more about this palace."
Gareth led Alden away, grumbling about how careless his son was. But Alden wasn't listening. In his heart, he knew that day was the beginning of something extraordinary.
A Budding Friendship
Since their first meeting, Elena and Alden formed a strange but beautiful friendship. Every time Gareth came to the palace to deliver an order, Alden would find a way to sneak into the back garden. Elena, in turn, always waited eagerly, though she tried to hide it from the servants and guards.
For Elena, who lived under the shadow of royal rules, Alden's stories were a window to a world she had never seen. For Alden, conversations with Elena were something magical, like talking to a star that had descended to earth.
One afternoon, they sat under a large oak tree in the palace garden, their favorite spot. The leaves swayed gently in the wind, and the sound of singing birds created a soothing harmony.
"Is life in the village as lovely as your stories?" Elena asked, gazing at the blue sky through the leaves.
Alden nodded enthusiastically. "It's bustling, but fun. In the morning, the market is full of merchants hawking their goods. There's fresh fruit, colorful fabrics, and handmade crafts. In the evening, the children play in the small river. Sometimes, we sit under a big tree and listen to old stories from the village elders."
Elena smiled, closing her eyes as she imagined everything Alden described. "That sounds... free. I wish I could see it someday."
Alden, who was whittling a stick with a small knife, stopped and looked at Elena. "I could take you there," he said with a wide smile. "I know all the good spots in the village. The river with the clearest water, the hill where the sunset looks like an ocean of fire, and the apple orchard that tastes like... treasure."
Elena laughed softly, her voice like a silver bell echoing in the garden. "Treasure? Are the apples magical, or were you just really hungry when you ate them?" she teased.
"Hey!" Alden pretended to be offended, slapping his knee. "They're really delicious. You have to try one to believe it. I'll pick one for you."
Elena knew the offer was impossible, but she returned a warm smile. "You always make everything sound so easy, Alden. Unfortunately, I can't just leave the palace. My father would be furious."
Alden fell silent for a moment. He knew all too well how heavy Elena's life was within these walls. Even as a princess, she didn't have the freedom a child her age should have.
"Then," Alden said softly, "I'll keep telling you all about it. So you feel like you've been there."
Elena's green eyes shone, and she looked at Alden gently. "That's enough. Your stories make me feel like a part of the world out there."
Day by day, their friendship grew stronger. Alden began bringing small gifts whenever he came to the palace—a bunch of wildflowers, a small wooden carving, or a uniquely shaped pebble from his village's river.
"What's this?" Elena asked one day when Alden handed her a flat, blue-green stone.
"It's a stone I found in the river. Its color is like the sky on a cloudless night. I thought you'd like it," Alden answered, scratching his head, feeling a little awkward.
Elena looked at the stone in awe, then smiled widely. "It's beautiful. Thank you, Alden. You always bring little things that brighten my day."
Alden smiled shyly, but his heart felt warm hearing Elena's words.
On the other hand, Elena also began sharing small things about her life in the palace. She told him about the palace dogs always chasing the servants, the senior maid who always frowned but was actually kind-hearted, and her father's habit of reading war books while muttering strategies.
"Sometimes I feel my father is too serious," Elena said with a sigh. "He wants me to be like him, but I want... something else."
"Like what?" asked Alden.
Elena looked into the distance, at the high towers of the palace. "I want to see the world. Meet new people. Be part of something bigger than these walls."
Alden nodded seriously. "Then you should. Someday. When the time is right."
Elena smiled, though in her heart she knew how difficult that would be. But Alden's words always gave her hope, even if just a little.
Amid their different lives, Elena and Alden found comfort in each other. They were two children dreaming of a wider world, even if their paths to that dream seemed impossible. But for them, the garden was their small world, where no caste or rules could separate them.
An Unspoken Promise
Years passed, and the relationship between Elena and Alden grew into something more than ordinary friendship. Whenever Gareth brought orders to the palace, Alden no longer came just to help his father; he came hoping, with a spirit he could barely hide, to meet Elena in their garden.
Elena, in turn, was always waiting. Though her life was full of rules, she always found a way to slip away from the watchful eyes of the servants. A habit that grew riskier as they got older, but Elena didn't care.
One night, under the soft moonlight, they met as usual in the garden. The large oak tree in the corner was a silent witness to every story and laugh they shared. But that night was different. Something hung in the air, a tension they had never felt before.
"Alden," Elena began, her voice soft, almost a whisper, "Do you ever think about leaving the village? Seeing the wider world?"
Alden, who was weaving twigs into a small shape like a boat, stopped his hands. He looked at Elena with brown eyes full of questions.
"I..." Alden hesitated for a moment. "I don't know if that world is for me. My life is simple, Lena. I only know how to make swords and other tools. The world out there... sounds so big and scary."
Elena moved closer, sitting nearer to him on the grass. "But you have courage, Alden. You're different from the others. I know you can face anything."
Alden gave a faint smile, his eyes gazing at the starry night sky. "I don't know about that. But if I could accompany someone like you, I'd be brave enough."
Those words silenced Elena. Her heart raced, and for a moment, she was at a loss for words. Her face flushed faintly under the moonlight. She didn't know how to respond, but she felt a warmth, as if Alden's words were an invisible embrace.
"I..." Elena finally spoke, her voice trembling slightly. "I want so badly to get out of here, Alden. From this palace, from these walls. Sometimes I feel like a bird in a gilded cage. Everything looks beautiful, but I'm never truly free."
Alden turned to her, trying to understand a feeling he himself had never experienced. "Lena... you might not be able to leave now, but someday, you will fly. I'm sure of it."
Elena smiled slightly, though her eyes were glistening. "You always make everything sound so easy."
"It's not easy," Alden said, his tone more serious. "But I know you're strong. And if you need someone to help you open that cage door, I'll be there."
For a moment, there was only silence between them. The night breeze blew softly, carrying the scent of roses from the garden.
"Alden," Elena finally said, her voice almost inaudible. "If I leave... will you still be by my side?"
Alden looked at her with a sincerity that made Elena feel the world wasn't as bad as she thought. "As long as I can walk, Lena. I will always be by your side."
That night, they spoke no more words. They just sat there, sharing warmth in the silence, while the moon in the sky bore witness to a promise never truly spoken aloud.
But the promise remained, stored in each of their hearts, like a seed waiting for its time to grow. They didn't know that night would become one of their most precious memories, a memory that would be a comfort on a long journey full of obstacles.
And though their words were simple, the feeling hidden behind them was something eternal.
Blacksmith's Trail - Early Chapter: A Shattered Dream
Alden stood with a pounding heart in the grand hall of the Thalpegas Palace. The hall was filled with towering marble pillars, floors shining like mirrors, and candlelight reflecting his trembling shadow. Yet, all that beauty could not calm the nervousness creeping through his body.
In his hand, he clutched a sword he had forged himself. Every hammer blow that shaped it was a testament to his determination; every engraving on its blade was a reminder of his love for Elena. He stared straight ahead, where King Eldoria sat on his golden throne, wearing a magnificent royal robe. The king's gaze was as sharp as a sword, cold and full of judgment.
"Your Majesty," Alden began, his voice trembling, "I have come... to ask for your permission."
King Eldoria straightened up, his brow furrowed as he stared at Alden as if the young man were dirt staining the palace floor. "My permission?" he said slowly, his voice booming in the quiet hall. "For what does a blacksmith's boy need my permission?"
Alden took a deep breath, trying to gather his courage. "Your Majesty, I know I am nobody. I am just a blacksmith from a small village. But I love Princess Elena... and I wish to ask for her hand in marriage."
The words echoed, creating a tense silence in the hall. The guards on duty looked at Alden with wide eyes, stunned by the village boy's audacity.
King Eldoria rose slowly from his throne, his robe billowing like a shadow of darkness. He stepped forward with a firm stride, each step seeming to strike Alden's heart.
"You... wish to marry my daughter?" asked the king, his tone low but dangerous.
"Yes, Your Majesty. I love her. And I swear to protect her with my entire life," Alden answered, his voice full of sincerity, though his hands trembled holding the sword.
The king laughed—a cold, mocking laugh that echoed throughout the hall. It wasn't just a rejection; it was a humiliation of Alden's very existence.
"You? A village boy whose hands only know how to forge dirty, soot-covered iron?" the king asked cynically. "Do you think you are even worthy of uttering her name in my presence?"
Alden didn't answer, but the look in his eyes showed he wouldn't back down.
The king stepped closer, looking down at Alden with furious eyes. "Listen carefully, blacksmith's boy," he said, his voice turning sharp like a blade's edge. "My daughter is of noble blood, the heir to the throne of Thalpegas. She will not marry a lowly dreamer like you. She is only fit to stand beside a prince or a hero whose name will be remembered throughout history."
The king paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing with contempt. "And you... you are not even worthy to tread on my palace floors. Stepping here is an insult. How dare you dream of touching the sky when your feet are still stuck in the village mud."
Alden clenched his fists tighter, trying to suppress the anger and pain raging in his chest. But the king did not stop.
"If you insist on pushing this, you will only bring ruin. Ruin upon your family, ruin upon their good name, and ruin upon yourself. I will never allow my daughter to be tainted by an association with someone like you. You are a disgrace."
Alden bowed his head, but not out of fear—rather from a devastation too heavy to bear. The words cut deeper than any sword he had ever made.
King Eldoria raised his hand, pointing towards the large door at the end of the hall. "Get out of my palace. And never return. If I see you here again, I will not hesitate to make an example of you for anyone who dares to dream as you do."
Without a word, Alden turned around. His footsteps echoed in the silent hall, each step feeling like a needle piercing his heart.
Outside the hall, on a balcony overlooking the palace garden, Elena stood behind a white curtain. Her eyes desperately followed Alden's shadow slowly retreating. She knew what had happened, she knew what her father had said, and tears began to well in her eyes.
"Alden..." she murmured softly, almost like a prayer. "Forgive me... I couldn't do anything."
Alden's heart shattered upon hearing those words. Without looking back, he turned and stepped out, leaving the hall with his head bowed. In the distance, Elena watched him from the balcony. Tears filled her eyes as she saw Alden leave.
The Growing Distance
From that day on, Alden never set foot inside the palace gates again. Whenever his father's workshop received an order from the palace, Alden would only deliver the goods to the gate with a blank expression, hand over the boxes of swords and shields to the guard soldiers, and leave without a word.
Yet, his steps always slowed as he walked away. His heart screamed for him to stop and turn back, but King Eldoria's words still echoed in his head, crushing any intention he had. "I am not worthy," he thought repeatedly. "Not even to be near her."
From a distance, Alden often gazed at the high palace balcony overlooking the garden. His eyes always searched for that white curtain—the curtain that had once fluttered softly on a night full of memories. Sometimes, he hoped to see Elena's shadow there, but he would quickly lower his gaze before that hope could grow. "I would only hurt her more," he muttered to himself.
Elena, on the other hand, never stopped waiting. Every time the delivery horses from the blacksmith's workshop arrived at the palace gate, she would immediately run to her balcony. With a racing heart, she would scan the area near the gate, hoping to see Alden there.
When she finally spotted Alden from afar—with his wind-blown blond hair and his characteristically steady stride—a faint smile always appeared on her face, as if finding a diamond in a desert. But her smile quickly faded as Alden never once looked her way.
She watched how Alden would only stand for a moment, hand over the order, then turn and leave. Every step away from the gate felt like a dagger stabbing her heart. Elena clenched her fists, trying to hold back tears.
"Why won't you look at me, Alden?" she whispered softly, though she knew no one could hear.
Elena's nights were filled with thoughts of Alden. She remembered his smile, his light laughter, and how he always brought the outside world into her confined life. But now, that warmth felt distant, like a sun setting beyond the horizon.
"Was I wrong to let him go that day?" Elena murmured to herself. "Should I have run and stopped him? Was I too cowardly to defy Father's will?"
In the village, Alden also couldn't escape their memories. Every night, as he sat in the blacksmith's workshop, watching the flames cast shadows on the stone walls, his mind always returned to Elena.
He remembered Elena's laughter when she heard his stories about the village, how her green eyes shone when he spoke of the wildflowers growing outside the palace walls. But now, all those memories felt like thorns.
"What's the point of it all now?" Alden spoke to himself, his voice full of frustration. "I'm just a blacksmith. There's no place for me in Elena's world."
Yet, Alden couldn't completely sever the connection. Every time an order from the palace came, even though the pain grew each time he saw that gate, Alden always decided to help with the delivery. Not to meet Elena, but to ensure he still had that small thread, a sliver of hope he knew he could never grasp.
Elena, meanwhile, began to feel a deeper wound. Not just from the physical distance between them, but from Alden's attitude, which seemed to deliberately avoid her.
"Do you hate me now, Alden?" Elena asked herself on a quiet night, sitting on her balcony with an empty gaze fixed on the moon. "Do you think I wanted this to happen? I never chose to be born a princess."
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The distance between them grew, not just in steps but also in their hearts. Yet, deep within each of their souls, the feeling remained—an unspoken longing, a love they feared to acknowledge, and a pain that continued to gnaw slowly away.
From behind the white curtain on the balcony, Elena clenched her fists, her heart full of unspoken prayers. Meanwhile, in the village, Alden gazed at the palace from afar, wondering if one day his small dream would find its way back.
Yet, they both knew that the high palace walls were not the only barrier between them. A larger world was out there, full of battles they would have to face, both outside and within their own hearts.
The Approaching Disaster
The night was cold, with a wind that carried whispers of fear. The small village where Alden lived began to feel quieter than usual. There was no laughter from children playing in the streets, no singing from merchants in the market. Only faint whispers carrying terrible news from the north.
A great kingdom, Velkrath, famous for its impenetrable walls, had fallen overnight. No one knew how the armies of King Raimond III of Loniest—known as the Arrogant King who had allied with demons—had breached them. The stories circulating among the merchants made one's hair stand on end: the city was burned from within, as if hell itself had risen to devour it.
An eyewitness who managed to escape said the Demon King's forces were not mere soldiers. They were monsters—creatures with sharp claws and glowing red eyes that never slept or tired. The villagers of Velkrath were enslaved; children were torn from their parents, their screams echoing through the night. Strong men were chained together with heavy chains, forced to stand on the front lines as living shields.
The horror did not stop there. Beautiful women were taken away, no one knew where, but everyone knew their fate would not be kind. Those deemed useless were slaughtered mercilessly. Blood flowed in the streets, creating red puddles that reflected the fire consuming the city.
Velkrath was just the beginning. Within months, three other kingdoms followed, destroyed with the same fate. From the ruins of those kingdoms, only despair remained.
In Alden's small village, the news arrived through palace soldiers visiting his father's workshop. They came with grim faces, bringing new orders to make weapons in large quantities. Alden noticed one soldier who couldn't hide the tremor in his hand as he spoke.
"What's happening?" Alden asked, his voice shaking, but the soldier didn't answer. He just looked down before finally saying in a low tone, "They are getting closer."
Alden couldn't sleep that night. The shadows of the stories he'd heard haunted his thoughts. He imagined children being torn from their parents, the desperate screams of a mother who could no longer hold her child. He imagined the men standing with empty eyes before the army, knowing their lives were nothing more than meat shields to protect the monsters behind them.
As Alden thought of all this, his mind turned to Elena. What would happen if the Demon King's forces reached Thalpegas? He imagined Elena being taken from the palace, treated like a commodity by the demons. Alden's hands clenched, and anger burned in his chest.
"I won't let that happen," he murmured softly, but firmly.
Yet, in the quiet of the night, doubt crept in. Who was he, a mere village blacksmith, to think he could oppose a force that had destroyed great kingdoms? He was nothing more than a sword-maker, someone who only knew how to forge steel, not wield it.
In the small workshop, Alden stared into the fire burning in the forge. The flame's light cast his shadow on the stone walls—a young man with eyes full of doubt but also a flicker of hope. He knew if he continued living like this, only making swords for others, he would never be able to protect anything.
"I must change," he whispered to himself. "If I'm not good enough as a blacksmith, then I will become more than that. I will become someone who can be respected, even by the king himself."
That resolve slowly grew in his heart, like an ember beginning to burn brightly. Alden knew this journey would be full of danger, but he also knew he could no longer remain idle. If he wanted to protect Elena, his village, and himself, he had to become more than just a blacksmith's son. He had to become a warrior.
The Decision to Step Forward
The following days in Thalpegas were filled with tension. The kingdom's soldiers began training intensely in the palace courtyard, and the villagers started reinforcing walls and stockpiling supplies in case war truly arrived.
Alden, meanwhile, helped his father complete the endless stream of orders for swords and spears. Yet, his mind was never at peace. Every time he forged steel on the anvil, every hammer blow felt like a bell calling him to the battlefield.
One night, when everyone was asleep, Alden walked out of the workshop and looked up at the starry sky. He thought of Elena—how she would survive if Thalpegas fell. Alden knew, as a royal princess, Elena's fate would be far more terrible if captured by the Demon King's forces.
Alden gripped tightly a small pendant shaped like a sword, which he had made from scrap steel in his workshop. It was a reminder of his dream, his hope, and his unspoken promise to protect Elena.
"I can't wait any longer," he murmured.
The Morning That Changed Everything
The sun had just peeked over the hills, illuminating the small village of Thalpegas, still blanketed in dew. In front of the simple workshop, Alden stood with a face full of determination. The cold morning wind brushed his cheeks, but he didn't flinch. A sword, the product of his hard work and long nights, hung on his back. A small bag of supplies hung from his waist, light but full of hope.
His father, Gareth, stood by the workshop door. The old man held a forging hammer in one hand, as if he wanted to say something important but hesitated to speak. He had watched his son grow from a curious boy fascinated by the forge fire to the young man now standing before him, ready to leave behind everything they knew.
"Alden..." Gareth's voice broke the morning silence. "I know you've been thinking about this for a long time. But the world out there is not like this village. They won't care about your determination, your courage, or even your heart. That world is harsh and unforgiving. You could get hurt... or worse..."
Alden looked at his father with a small, confident smile. "Father," he said softly, "I've lived long enough in the shadow of this workshop. I've forged swords for others, heard their stories of adventure, war, and honor. It's time I forged myself. If I fail, at least I know I tried. I can't keep living without knowing what I can achieve."
Gareth took a deep breath, trying to hold back his emotions. He knew no words could stop his son now. With heavy steps, he approached Alden and pulled him into a tight embrace, like when Alden was a child afraid of the shadows of the night.
"Take care of yourself, Son," he whispered hoarsely. "And remember, no matter what happens, come home. This workshop... this home... will always be your shelter."
Alden closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of his father's embrace for what felt like the last time. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Gareth released him. His gaze was firm, but his eyes held a deep pride and worry.
Alden turned to face the path that would lead him out of the village. His first step felt heavy, as if every childhood memory was pulling him back. But with each subsequent step, that burden began to fade, replaced by a feeling of freedom slowly growing within him.
He walked through the market that was beginning to bustle. Fruit sellers called out to customers, children ran around with joyful laughter, and the sound of cart wheels creaking filled the morning air. Some neighbors waved to him, while others just watched with curiosity, wondering where the young man was going with such determination in his eyes.
The Last Glance
Alden stopped in the middle of the large stone bridge, his feet feeling heavy even though his heart had decided. Before him, the Thalpegas palace stood majestically, its tower peaks reaching for the sky slowly changing from golden orange to light blue. His eyes were fixed on the balcony where he used to see Elena standing, welcoming him with a smile that always felt like the first ray of sunshine.
But this morning, the balcony was empty. Thin white curtains fluttered in the wind, as if waving an unspoken farewell. His heart clenched with a tightness he couldn't express in words. Alden clenched his fists, strengthening his resolve not to yield to the emotions churning inside him.
"Elena..." he whispered, the sound almost lost in the morning breeze. "I can't come to you again. I have no right... at least, not yet. I must become more than this—more than a blacksmith's son."
He took a long breath, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. For the first time in his life, he felt a loss that couldn't be put into words. But that sense of loss only strengthened his resolve. He raised his head, looked at the palace one last time, paying his final respects with a gaze full of a promise only he knew.
The Unspoken Prayer
Behind the fluttering white curtain, Elena stood with her fists clenched tightly to her chest. She had watched Alden walk across the bridge from his first step. Her heart raced between wanting to scream his name and holding back for the sake of pride. She knew her father's rejection had separated them, and the Alden she knew would never dishonor that.
Her eyes glistened, but she refused to cry. "You will come back, Alden," she whispered softly, the sound almost lost in the rustle of the morning breeze. "You will come back."
She wanted to wave, to give a sign that she was still here, waiting. But her body felt stiff, as if fear would worsen the wound already gaping in both their hearts.
Alden, unaware of her presence, remained still on the bridge. After a moment, he gave a slow nod towards the palace, as if making a wordless promise, before finally stepping away.
The Heavy First Step
Elena remained on the balcony, watching Alden's back recede into the distance. Each of his steps felt like it carried away a small piece of her heart. As Alden's figure turned into a small shadow on the horizon, the tears she had been holding back finally fell down her cheeks.
"Come back soon... safely," she murmured again, a voice only she could hear.
The wind carried her whisper, delivering it to Alden's back, now just a small dot in the distance. She closed her eyes for a moment, strengthening herself with prayers and hope that one day, their paths would cross again.
The Beginning of the Journey
Meanwhile, on the stony road stretching far from the palace, Alden continued walking without looking back. His steps felt heavy, as if every memory of that place was pulling him back. But his burning heart forced him to move forward.
"I will return, Elena. I will return as someone worthy of you."
The morning wind blew through his hair, carrying the scent of earth and leaves wet with dew. The sound of his footsteps on the stony path sounded firm, a rhythm that seemed to depict the strength of his determination. Along the journey, the image of Elena on the balcony remained etched in his mind, becoming a light guiding him on a path full of challenges.
From the palace balcony, Elena continued to gaze towards the bridge, even though Alden was no longer visible. The white curtain behind her fluttered softly, as if responding to the hope buried deep in her heart.
"I believe in you, Alden," she whispered softly, her voice lost in the rush of the morning wind. "Come back soon... safely."
In the distance, Alden stepped with a more resolute stride. Today was the beginning of a long journey that would forge him—a journey full of wounds, hope, and a love that would never fade