Chapter 4: Exile's End

**Chapter 4: Exile's End**

Days blurred into weeks as the carriage continued its relentless journey through the vast kingdom of Alderia. Shahil's body grew accustomed to the constant jostling, but his spirit remained heavy with the weight of his fate. The land changed as they traveled, from bustling towns to serene countryside, until they finally approached their destination.

After nearly three weeks of ceaseless travel, the carriage came to a halt. The guards, hardened by their duty and indifferent to his suffering, pulled Shahil from the carriage. They unlocked his chains, the heavy manacles clanging to the ground, and dragged him toward a weathered, three-story villa. The building, once grand, now stood ravished by time, its stone walls and wooden beams bearing the scars of neglect. It was situated on the outskirts of a village, bordered by the ominous Dark Forest—the mysterious boundary of the Alderia kingdom, a place shrouded in legend and fear.

"This is your new home," one of the guards sneered, shoving Shahil toward the villa. "Or your prison, depending on how you look at it."

Shahil glanced around, taking in the overgrown gardens and the dilapidated state of the villa. He felt a strange mix of relief and apprehension. Here, at least, the jeering crowds were far behind him, but the isolation and the unknown dangers of the forest loomed large.

A swordsman, tasked by the crown prince, remained behind. His mission was clear: to ensure Shahil's demise within the year, courtesy of the slow-acting poison that coursed through his veins. The prince's orders were explicit—Shahil must not return, and the poison would see to that.

The guards escorted Shahil inside the villa, its interior dusty and dark. They left him with the bare essentials—a small bed, a few pieces of worn furniture, and a modest supply of food and water. The village lay just down the road, an average-sized community with neither the grandeur of the capital nor the desolation of a remote hamlet.

As the guards announced Shahil's arrival to the village, word quickly spread. The villagers were told of his banishment and ordered to provide him with meager meals. The village chief, a stern but fair man, was instructed to keep a watchful eye on the disgraced prince. The task filled him with unease, but he had no choice but to comply with the royal decree.

Shahil stood at the entrance of his new home, watching the guards depart. The village lay to one side, its modest buildings and simple folk going about their lives. To the other side, the Dark Forest loomed, its dense trees and shadowy depths whispering secrets and dangers unknown.

He stepped inside the villa, feeling a sense of finality settle over him. This place, forsaken and forgotten, was to be his sanctuary—or his tomb. He wandered through the dusty rooms, the echoes of a once-grand life haunting every corner. He found a small study, its shelves lined with ancient, unread tomes. Perhaps here, in solitude, he could find some semblance of peace.

The first meal arrived that evening, delivered by a wary villager. Shahil accepted the meager portion with gratitude, understanding that the villagers had no love for him but were bound by duty. The food was plain but sufficient, a far cry from the lavish banquets of the palace, yet it sustained him.

Days turned into weeks, the rhythm of his new life slowly settling in. The village chief, though apprehensive, ensured Shahil received his meals and checked on him regularly. The swordsman kept his distance but remained ever vigilant, a silent reminder of the prince's fate.

Shahil spent his days exploring the villa, tending to the overgrown garden, and reading the old books he found in the study. He felt the poison's effects gradually, a lingering weakness and fatigue that he attributed to his ordeal. He avoided the Dark Forest, its foreboding presence a constant reminder of the dangers that lay beyond.

Despite his isolation, Shahil found a strange sense of calm in his exile. He had no illusions about his fate, but he resolved to make the most of the time he had. The stars still twinkled above, their distant light offering a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, within the confines of this forsaken villa, he might yet uncover a path to redemption or discover the strength within himself to defy his destiny.

For now, he took each day as it came, finding solace in the simple routines and the quiet beauty of the countryside. His journey was far from over, and as he gazed out at the Dark Forest, he couldn't shake the feeling that his true adventure was only beginning.