ShadowBound: The Need For Power-Chapter 501: Leaving Everything Behind
After revealing his intentions to Serah, Galen had gone on to tell both his mother and father about his decision. His mother, Queen Seralyne, being the embodiment of warmth and compassion, was struck with deep worry. She tried her utmost to dissuade him, pleading that the Nether Realm was not a place meant for mortals—it was a pit of ruin, a realm where the light of life rarely returned. Her voice trembled as she spoke, fearing that this decision might mark the last time she would ever see her son again. She reminded him that even the bravest knights had ventured there and never come back, that the horrors within that realm were beyond what any human could face.
Yet despite her desperate pleas, Galen remained resolute. His eyes burned with unwavering conviction as he gently told her that if she stopped him, she would be chaining his growth—holding him back from the path he was destined to walk. He reminded her that she, more than anyone, had raised him to follow his heart and his will, and if she truly believed in him, then she had to let him go. His tone wasn’t harsh, but firm enough to make it clear that this was not something that could be swayed by tears or emotion.
Queen Seralyne’s heart was heavy, but she saw the truth in her son’s words. He was no longer a boy seeking approval—he was a man carving his own destiny. Her eyes softened, and though pain lingered, pride bloomed within her heart. She knew she could not shield him forever. The best she could do was stand back and allow him to decide his own fate. Even so, when she embraced him that night, she held him tighter than ever, as if her heart could brand his memory into her soul before he was gone.
Later, Galen sought an audience with his father, King Tharion. The air in the throne room was thick with silence when he spoke of his decision. As expected, the king did not attempt to stop him. Instead, he regarded his son with the piercing eyes of a ruler who had seen countless men chase glory and fall to ruin. He asked only one question: "Are you truly certain of what you’re walking into?" His tone carried no emotion, yet it held the weight of countless unspoken warnings. He reminded Galen that in the Nether Realm, there would be no allies, no orders, and no guiding hand—only him, his will, and the endless horrors that roamed that realm.
But even then, Galen did not waver. His silence was answer enough, his determination unshakable. Seeing this, King Tharion finally gave his approval, though his gaze lingered with a rare trace of fatherly concern. He called upon one of the kingdom’s most skilled mages—a High Archmage—to prepare the portal that would lead directly into the Nether Realm. The king did not offer blessings nor speeches of farewell. His final words were simple: "Return as the man you wish to become, or do not return at all."
Three days passed after that declaration, and the day finally arrived. As the swirling portal of darkness and light opened before the palace gates, Serah, Queen Seralyne, and King Tharion stood together in silence. None spoke a word as Galen approached the threshold. His armor gleamed faintly beneath the crimson dawn, and his hand rested calmly on the hilt of his blade. He looked back only once—at his family—then stepped forward and vanished through the rift. The portal closed behind him with a sound like a thunderous whisper, and the courtyard fell silent once more.
Two days after Galen’s departure, an unsettling quiet spread through the royal residence. Serah was nowhere to be found. Her chambers were empty, her office abandoned, her presence completely erased overnight. Panic rippled through the palace, but what calmed the storm of worry was a single letter left behind upon her desk, sealed with her crest.
The letter read:
"I know it’s irresponsible of me to leave without notice, especially now, but I had to. For my own sanity, for my own happiness, I needed to do this. Please, I ask that no one comes searching for me. I am safe, and this is something I must do alone. I cannot say when I’ll return, but I will come back when the time is right. Until then, I recommend Zion Ardent to act in my stead. He’s capable and will handle my duties well. Take care of yourselves, and don’t worry about me."
And with that, Serah vanished just as silently as her brother had—two siblings, both following paths no one could have foreseen, each drawn toward their own destiny beyond the reach of the crown.
***
After leaving everything behind—her royal duties, her responsibilities, and the endless weight that came with her name—Serah made her way back to Marcus. This time, however, she didn’t return to the tranquil forest of Tnaji to stay with Marcus and his father, Billy. Instead, she and Marcus chose to start anew in a quiet, ritual village known as Beaufield. It rested upon the edge of a lush forest just like Tnaji, embraced by rolling hills and clear rivers that shimmered under the sun. The village was small, its population humble and kind, and life there moved at a pace so peaceful it almost felt like time itself was slower. It was the perfect place to live freely, far from the noise and chaos of kingdoms and politics.
When Serah arrived, Marcus had been caught completely off guard. He hadn’t expected her, nor had they discussed her coming. However, he didn’t question her. He had simply smiled that familiar crooked smile of his. If this was what she wanted, if this was where she found her peace, then he wouldn’t stand in her way.
And so, the two lovers began a new Chapter of their lives, living comfortably within the tranquil embrace of Beaufield. The days were long and calm, filled with the sound of rustling trees and distant laughter of children. For the first time in what felt like forever, Serah experienced what true stillness was—no political meetings, no demon reports, no expectations pressing down on her shoulders. Just the warmth of a morning sun and the gentle hum of a village that welcomed her not as a princess, but as one of their own. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦
She quickly grew fond of the villagers. The people of Beaufield were simple folk, bound by tradition and kindness. They welcomed her with open hearts, grateful to have another pair of hands to help in their little community. Serah helped the elder women prepare herbs, taught the children how to read and write, and joined in their evening rituals that celebrated life, the moon, and the turning of seasons. In time, she found herself smiling more often, laughing freely, and sleeping soundly for the first time in years.
Marcus, on the other hand, was at peace as well. His days were spent fixing fences, hunting, or working alongside the villagers, and every night ended with him and Serah sitting by the small wooden porch of their home, watching the stars as the crickets sang around them. Sometimes they would talk for hours about everything and nothing—memories of battles, of near-death moments, of the strange paths that had led them there. Other times, they would sit in silence, simply enjoying the company of one another, their hands intertwined as if afraid the world might try to take this peace away.
Together, they built something quiet and beautiful in Beaufield. Their home became a small haven—a place where laughter echoed, where the scent of baked bread and flowers drifted through open windows, and where love didn’t need grand gestures or promises, because it was already in everything they did.
Serah found herself healing in ways she hadn’t realized she needed. The people, the peace, the rhythm of simplicity—it all mended the parts of her heart that had been scarred by war, duty, and loss. And though a part of her knew that someday she might have to return to the world she left behind, for now, she was content. She had Marcus, she had peace, and for the second time in her life, she had herself.
