Promise you’ll come back

I sat in my small, familiar room, staring down at the few belongings I had spread out on the bed. The walls, once comforting in their simplicity, now felt as if they were closing in on me, their pale, chipped paint suffocating.

Every corner of the orphanage seemed to remind me of my failure, and the weight of it pressed down on my chest until I thought I might break under it.

I ran my fingers over the worn leather of my bag, tracing the stitching with absentminded care.

It was the only thing that held my meager possessions an extra set of clothes, a small, tattered journal I had been given years ago, and a pendant that once belonged to my mother.

These were the remnants of my life here, in a place that had been home for as long as I could remember, and now, they felt like anchors to a past I was desperate to leave behind.

The fight with Elara replayed in my mind over and over, a vicious loop I couldn't escape. The way she had stood over me, calm and composed, while I lay defeated at her feet.

The sting of the wind, sharp against my skin, still lingered. The memory of her words so simple, yet devastating echoed in my thoughts.

"You lost, but you can go."

She hadn't said it with cruelty. In fact, her voice had been almost gentle, and the approval in her eyes had stirred something deep inside me. But that approval wasn't enough to erase the shame.

I had given everything I had, and it hadn't been enough. My magic, my determination, my strength they had all crumbled under the weight of Elara's power.

I closed my eyes, taking a shaky breath, and felt the familiar burn of tears threatening to spill over. But I wouldn't cry. Not now. Not again.

There was a soft knock at the door, and I looked up to see Lyra standing in the doorway, her expression filled with sympathy.

She had been one of my closest friends here, her bright smile and easy laughter a constant source of light in the orphanage. But today, there was no smile. Only concern.

"Alyndra," she said softly, stepping into the room. "Are you sure about this?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The lump in my throat felt too large to swallow, and I knew that if I opened my mouth, I might break down completely.

Lyra sat down beside me on the bed, her hand resting lightly on my arm. "You don't have to leave," she continued, her voice pleading. "You know we all care about you. Elara's proud of you. She said so herself. You did everything you could."

"I wasn't strong enough," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I was ready, but I wasn't."

"Maybe not now," Lyra admitted, her eyes softening, "but that doesn't mean you won't be. You can keep training here, with all of us. You don't have to leave."

I shook my head, pulling away slightly. "It's not about that, Lyra. I can't stay here. Not after this. I need to… I need to figure out who I am. Away from all of this." I gestured around the room, my chest tightening as I spoke.

"I understand," she said quietly, though I could see the sadness in her eyes. "But we'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too," I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. "But I can't stay. Not like this."

There was a long silence between us, the weight of my decision hanging in the air like a thick fog. Eventually, Lyra stood up, giving me a small, bittersweet smile. "Just promise me one thing."

I looked up at her, curious. "What?"

"Promise you'll come back. When you're ready."

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. I didn't know if I would ever be ready. But I nodded anyway, because it was what she needed to hear. "I promise."

Lyra left after that, leaving me alone in the quiet, dim room. I glanced around, taking in the familiar sights one last time the worn wooden floors, the small window that overlooked the courtyard, the shelves lined with books I had read a hundred times.

This place had been my home, my refuge. But now, it felt like a prison.

With a deep breath, I stood up, slinging my bag over my shoulder. My heart was heavy, the weight of my failure still clinging to me, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it a spark of determination that refused to be extinguished.

I made my way down the hallway, the soft murmur of voices from the other children drifting through the walls.

Some of them had gathered in the common room, hoping to say goodbye, but I couldn't face them. Not now. Not when I felt so raw, so exposed. I slipped out through the back door, the cold wind biting at my skin as I stepped into the courtyard.

The sky was overcast, the sun hidden behind a thick blanket of gray clouds. It felt appropriate, somehow, as if the world was mirroring the storm that raged inside me. The wind whipped around me, pulling at my clothes and hair, as if it too was trying to hold me back.

I paused at the gates of the orphanage, my hand resting on the iron bars. For a moment, I considered turning back. I thought about the warmth of the hearth inside, the familiar faces of my friends, and the safety of the walls that had sheltered me for so long.

But then, I thought of Elara, of the way she had stood so effortlessly against me, and the fire in my chest flared again.

I couldn't stay. Not when I knew there was more out there, waiting for me. I had to find my own path, no matter how terrifying the unknown seemed.

With one final glance back at the orphanage, I pushed open the gates and stepped out into the world beyond.

The cold wind hit me like a slap, and I pulled my cloak tighter around me, the chill seeping into my bones. The road ahead was long and uncertain, but I knew that I couldn't turn back now.

As I walked, the sense of isolation began to settle in, wrapping around me like a second skin. The trees lining the road whispered softly in the wind, their branches swaying and creaking in the breeze.

I felt small, insignificant, like a single leaf caught in a vast storm. But beneath that feeling of isolation, there was something else something that kept me moving forward.

I swore to myself, with every step I took, that I would never feel so powerless again. I would never let anyone make me feel as weak and as defeated as I had in that fight with Elara. I didn't know where this path would lead me, or what challenges lay ahead, but I knew one thing for certain: I wouldn't stop until I had the strength to stand on my own.

The road stretched out before me, winding through the forest like a serpent. It was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves and the distant cawing of birds.

The weight of my decision still hung heavy on my shoulders, but with each step, that weight seemed to lessen, replaced by a growing sense of resolve.

I would find my way. I would become stronger. And one day, when I was ready, I would return not as the girl who had lost, but as someone who had found her place in the world.

For now, though, I was alone. And that was how it needed to be.

The wind picked up again, swirling around me like a living thing, and I couldn't help but think of Elara, her magic, and the way she had controlled the very air around her. I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the cold breeze against my skin, and made a silent vow.

I would never be that powerless again.