The air was quiet in the servant quarters. The kind of stillness that made even the wind hesitate.
Ansel sat near the hearth, legs folded, eyes glued to the worn pages of a book about heroes and free men—his mother's favorite. The candle beside him flickered, casting shadows across his face.
That's when the door creaked open.
He turned, and there she was.
"Mother!" He rushed over. "What did he say? What happened?"
Alena closed the door behind her and knelt in front of him. Her hands trembled slightly as she held his cheeks.
"You're going," she whispered.
Ansel blinked. "What?"
"You're going to Valeon Academy."
He froze. For a moment, his mind couldn't process the words. Then his eyes widened—those violet eyes glowing like starlight. "Really?"
She nodded, smiling through the tears brimming in her eyes.
But then her expression turned serious.
"There's a condition."
Ansel's small hands gripped hers. "What kind?"
"You'll go as a servant student. You'll carry no title, no family name. You'll have no protections. If you fail… we lose everything."
Ansel was quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"I won't fail."
His voice wasn't loud—but it was certain.
"I'll get stronger," he said, more to himself than to her. "I'll make friends. I'll prove I belong."
Alena hugged him tightly. "I believe you."
---
The next few days passed in a blur.
A letter from the Count secured a place at Valeon Academy. It wasn't a seat of honor—it was a silent placement, like a shadow slipping through the gates. But it was real.
A few servants were ordered to prepare a small trunk of clothes. Nothing ornate, just enough to look proper among nobles. Alena packed a few books in secret—a lullaby journal she'd written herself, and a worn volume on the legends of Celestria.
She also placed a necklace in his hand the night before his departure. A silver thread with a tiny pendant—a glass orb containing a faint purple shimmer. "This was mine," she whispered. "For luck."
Ansel held it close.
On the morning of his departure, clouds drifted over the manor. The sun hid behind a veil of grey.
As the carriage stood waiting, Ansel turned back to look at his mother. Her smile was warm, but her eyes were glassy.
He stepped forward and hugged her tightly.
"I'll come back stronger," he whispered.
"I know," she said, kneeling to kiss his forehead. "Walk your path, Ansel. And never forget who you are."
The coach door shut behind him. As the wheels began to turn, Alena stood still, hand pressed to her heart, watching her son leave the only home he had ever known.
A new path had begun.
The world outside awaited.