Elio's POV

Leading the Imperial procession back into Timbervale should have felt triumphant. Instead, it felt like wearing someone else's skin—the gleaming armor too heavy, the ceremonial cape catching on everything, the weight of the Empire's expectations crushing.

Two years had passed since I'd left this place. Two years of intensive training, of battles against demons that had broken through the weakening barriers, of learning to lead when every decision might cost lives.

"You seem tense, Hero Elio," observed Saint Therion, riding beside me. Of my core team, he alone seemed to see past the title to the person beneath.

"This is where I grew up," I explained. "Where I was just...Elio."

"Ah, nostalgia," he nodded. "A powerful emotion, but dangerous for one who carries the Celestial Mark. Remember your purpose here."

My purpose. Always my purpose. Find more soldiers, strengthen our forces, prepare for the prophesied final confrontation. Never just to visit home, to see the one person I'd missed every day.

Neri's letters had stopped months ago. I told myself he was busy, that rural postal service was unreliable, but fear gnawed at me. Had he forgotten me? Moved on? Resented my elevation?

Timbervale hadn't changed—still the same weathered buildings, the same dusty main road, the same faces now staring in awe as we approached. Children ran alongside our horses, pointing at my glowing mark, at Knight-Captain Lyra's impressive armor, at Mage Kestra's floating orbs of light.

The village elders greeted us formally, offering the town square for our recruitment efforts. I scanned the crowd desperately, looking for one familiar face.

He wasn't there.

When the formalities ended, I pulled aside Old Nan. "The orphan boy, Neri—where is he?"

She hesitated. "He... changed after you left. Grew distant. Then about two years ago, he started disappearing into the Whisperwood for days at a time. Some say he found a teacher out there."

The Whisperwood—a place we'd been forbidden to enter as children, rumored to house ancient magic and older beings.

"Is he here now? In the village?"

"He returned yesterday," she said, lowering her voice. "But Elio—he's not the boy you knew."

Before I could ask more, Knight-Captain Lyra called me back to begin the recruitment ceremony. Throughout the speeches and demonstrations of Imperial might, my eyes kept drifting to the edges of the crowd, searching.

It was only when the formal proceedings ended that I felt it—a familiar presence, but somehow altered, like a beloved melody played in a minor key. I turned toward the sensation and saw him standing at the edge of the square, leaning on a black staff.

Neri.

But not my Neri. This young man stood straighter, his eyes holding knowledge that sent a chill through me. When our gazes met, the Mark on my palm burned.

I broke protocol, pushing through the crowd toward him. Up close, I could see strange symbols etched into his hands, disappearing beneath his sleeves.

"Neri," I breathed.

A smile flickered across his face—the same smile I remembered, and for a moment, he was just my best friend again. "Hello, Hero."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Don't call me that," I said automatically. "It's still me."

His eyes—had they always been that deep, that knowing?—studied me carefully. "Is it? You look... different."

"So do you." I gestured to his staff, the markings. "Old Nan said you found a teacher."

Something guarded crossed his expression. "I found my own path, just as you found yours."

I wanted to embrace him, to fall back into our easy friendship, but something held me back—a strange sense of caution I'd never felt with him before.

"I've missed you," I said instead. "Your letters stopped coming."

Confusion creased his brow. "I wrote every week. Your replies stopped."

Before I could process this, Knight-Captain Lyra appeared at my shoulder, her hand casually resting on her sword hilt. "Hero Elio, we should continue with the schedule." She eyed Neri suspiciously. "Who is your... friend?"

Something possessive flared in me. "This is Neri, my childhood friend. The one I've told you about." I turned back to him. "Actually, I want you to join us, Neri. The Empire can always use skilled mages, and with your potential—"

"How do you know I became a mage?" he interrupted.

I gestured to his staff, the markings. "It seems obvious."

"Hmm." His gaze shifted to Lyra, then back to me. "Perhaps we should catch up privately, Elio. For old times' sake."

Lyra's expression hardened. "The Hero's schedule is quite full—"

"Make time," I ordered, surprising myself with the authority in my voice. "Tonight, after the recruitment. I'll come find you, Neri."

He nodded, something like the old warmth returning to his eyes. "I'll be waiting at our spot."

Our spot—the old oak tree overlooking the village, where we'd spent countless hours planning our futures. He remembered.

As he turned to leave, Mage Kestra approached, her sharp eyes following Neri's retreating form. "Interesting friend you have, Hero Elio. His aura is... unusual."

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head. "I'm not certain. But caution would be wise."

I bristled. "He's my oldest friend."

"People change," said Saint Therion, joining us. "Especially those who walk unusual paths."

I wanted to defend Neri, to explain that if he'd changed, it was because I'd left him behind. But the weight of responsibility pressed down on me, reminding me that I was no longer just Elio of Timbervale. I was the Empire's Hero, the bearer of the Celestial Mark, the one prophesied to stand against the darkness.

That night, I slipped away from my guards and made my way to our old oak tree. Neri was already there, gazing up at the stars.

"Remember when we named our own constellations?" he asked without turning.

"The Shield Brothers," I said, smiling at the memory. "The Twin Rivers."

"The Promised Journey." He finally looked at me. "We were going to see the world together, Elio."

The accusation in his voice cut deep. "I know. I'm sorry it didn't happen that way."

"Are you?" His gaze was penetrating. "You're the Hero now. Beloved by the Empire, chosen by the Celestials. Meanwhile, I had to find my own way."

"I tried to stay in touch," I insisted. "I never wanted to leave you behind."

"But you did." He sighed, the anger seeming to drain from him. "It's not your fault. Destiny, right? The great cosmic joke."

I moved closer, noticing how the shadows seemed to cling to him. "Tell me about your teacher, your magic."

Hesitation crossed his face. "It's not the kind of magic the Empire approves of."

"I don't care about that."

"Don't you?" He gestured to my glowing mark. "You carry their power, their blessing. I've learned... different ways."

"Show me," I challenged.

After a moment's hesitation, he extended his hand. Shadows coalesced above his palm, forming a perfect miniature replica of Timbervale, down to the tiny figures moving through its streets.

"Shadow manipulation," I breathed. "That's rare."

"Among other things." The shadow village dissolved. "What about you? Show me what the Empire's Hero can do."

I lifted my marked hand, calling light to it until it blazed like a small sun. The illumination pushed back the night, revealing how gaunt Neri's face had become, how old his eyes looked now.

"Light and shadow," he mused. "How fitting."

"Join me," I said suddenly. "Come back with us to the Capital. With your skills, you could be assigned to my team. We could be together again, like we promised."

Something complicated passed through his expression—hope, fear, longing. "Do you mean that?"

"Of course I do! You're the only one who knows the real me, not just the Hero." I grabbed his shoulder. "I need that, Neri. I need someone who sees me, not the Mark."

His expression softened. "You've been lonely."

It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway. "Terribly."

"Even with your impressive team?"

"They serve the Hero. They don't know Elio."

He considered this, then slowly nodded. "Alright. I'll come. But Elio—" his eyes grew serious, "—the path I've walked, the magic I've learned... it might not be welcomed in your shining Empire."

"I'll protect you," I promised. "I have some influence now, you know."

He laughed, and for a moment, we were children again, sharing secrets under the stars.

Neither of us knew that my promise would be tested sooner than we thought, or that the forces moving us like pieces on a cosmic board had been planning this reunion for centuries.

Neither of us understood that we were never meant to walk the same path—that one of us had always been destined for light, and one for darkness.