Lord of the realm

Chapter 122: We need to leave Jaenor


"I can't let them see Jaenor here."

"They just reunited," Darian pointed out.

"Will they agree to separation so soon?"

"It's not safe," Morgana replied firmly.

"Jaenor is a magnet for forces beyond our understanding. Every moment he remains here puts not just himself but everyone around him at greater risk."

She paused, her expression growing more resolute. "I'm asking you to remain with Rena, Taeryn, and Baren. Guide them, protect them, and help them grow into the roles they're destined to fill. But Jaenor comes with me."

Darian nodded slowly, understanding the logic even if he disagreed with the emotional cost. "And if he refuses?"

"Then I'll make him understand that he has no choice," Morgana said grimly.

-

An hour later, Morgana stood in the doorway of Jaenor's recovery room.

The others had finally been convinced to get some rest, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his slowly returning strength.

He looked up as she entered, and she could see in his eyes that he had been thinking about the same things that troubled her.

"You're going to ask me to leave with you," he said before she could speak.

It wasn't a question. Jaenor could easily guess what she was thinking right now.

One look at him was enough—she knew that if he stayed here any longer, it was only a matter of time before he was caught.

"Yes," Morgana replied simply, closing the door behind her and moving to sit in the chair Rena had occupied earlier.

"You understand why?"

"Because I'm dangerous," Jaenor said, his voice carrying a bitterness that hadn't been there before his ordeal in town.

"Because whatever I am draws the attention of things that can level cities on a whim."

"Because you're powerful beyond anything this world has seen in centuries," Morgana corrected gently.

"And because there are forces that will stop at nothing to either control that power or destroy it before it can threaten their plans."

Jaenor's jaw set stubbornly.

"I'm not running. I can protect myself—I proved that when I killed the Lich King and faced down the Orc Lord. I'm powerful enough to stand against any witch or demon or whatever else comes looking for me."

Morgana's eyes widened, and she couldn't believe it was Jaenor who killed the Lich King. She stared at him for a second, thinking just how powerful he had become.

Then shaking her head, that's not what's important right now, she told herself.

"You're being arrogant," Morgana said sharply, her voice cutting through his protests like a blade. "Power without wisdom is just destruction waiting to happen. And your hunger for more power, your confidence that you can face any threat alone—that arrogance will get you killed."

"Believe you? Huh! You already abandoned me to the jaws of beasts once."

Morgana was clearly hurt by what he just said; she bit her lip, dropping to the ground.

Then She leaned forward, her blue eyes blazing with an intensity that made him unconsciously shrink back.

"I'm begging you, Jaenor. Come with me. You don't know how much I have regretted not standing by you that night in the forest. I told myself that it was my mistake that led to your kidnapping. I followed you to the gorge but couldn't save you. There was a demoness in that chamber; she was more powerful than I thought, and I tried desperately to get to you, but it was too late; that chamber collapsed.

Jaenor frowned.

A woman? Was she the Magdalyna that Pride Sin talked about?

Was she Odessa?

Jaenor had a strong feeling that she was the one who took him from the chamber and took him to the harbor city.

But why would she save me? Why would someone of such magnitude be by my side?

All those questions filled his mind, and as he was thinking about Odessa, Morgana's voice brought him back.

"Jaenor."

He looked at her; his expression became stern.

"Why?" he asked, some of his anger fading as he heard the genuine desperation in her voice. "Why does it matter so much to you what happens to me?"

"It's not like you raised me or anything. You just learned about me a few months ago. You don't know anything about me, nor do I about you."

Morgana was quiet for a long moment, her gaze dropping to her hands as old pain flickered across her features.

When she spoke again, her voice was softer and more vulnerable than he had ever heard it.

"Because you're the last," she said quietly.

"The last member of my family still drawing breath in this world. I had a brother once—younger, powerful beyond measure, convinced that his strength made him invincible. I let him go his own way, trusting that his power would protect him from the consequences of his choices."

She looked up, and Jaenor saw tears threatening at the corners of her eyes.

"I was wrong. They found him, the same forces that hunt you now. And when they were finished with him, there wasn't enough left to bury."

"It was your father. I couldn't do anything to the ones who killed him. Even to this day, I carry the pain of losing my family, I carry their legacy, and I carry the burden of knowing that I couldn't save him. But I will do everything in my power to protect you, Jaenor, and ensure that you do not suffer the same fate."

"I do not want you to carry that pain, Jaenor—the agony of watching your loved ones torn from you. There is no torment greater, no burden heavier for any soul to bear. Think of Rena, think of the others… and think of yourself. I know I have failed you as your aunt, perhaps more times than I can ever atone for. But hear me now—I would cast aside my very life if it meant shielding yours. That is how deeply I value you."

Her voice trembled for the first time, softening into something fragile, almost pleading.

"You are all I have, Jaenor… my only family. You cannot fathom how much joy it brings me—how much light—to know that you are still here."

The room fell silent except for the distant sounds of the fortress settling around them.

Jaenor stared at this woman, who had always seemed like an unshakeable pillar of strength, now revealed as someone carrying the weight of old grief and desperate protectiveness.

"I've mourned him every day for the past forty years," Morgana continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I've regretted every moment I let him face those dangers alone, every time I chose duty over family, every opportunity I had to save him that I let slip away."

She reached out and grasped his hand, her grip tight with urgency.

"I won't make that mistake again. I won't watch another member of my family die because I wasn't strong enough to protect them, wasn't wise enough to see the danger until it was too late."

Jaenor felt his resolve crumbling under the weight of her pain and determination.

This wasn't about his power or his role in some mystical conflict—this was about a woman who had already lost everyone she cared about refusing to lose him as well.

Fragile as he always was before the women who held sway over his heart, Jaenor could not bring himself to deny her.

"The others..." he began weakly.

"Will be safer without you drawing attention to them," Morgana finished.

"Darian will watch over them, guide them, and help them become the heroes this world needs them to be. But you... you need something different."

After what felt like an eternity, Jaenor nodded reluctantly.

"When do we leave?"

"At dusk," Morgana replied, relief flooding her features.

"I want to be away from here before the Coven arrives. I don't want any witch near you until we better understand what you are and how to protect you from those who would use your power for their own ends."

-

As the sun began to set behind the mountains that surrounded Berdshire Fortress, Jaenor found himself standing in the courtyard with his three closest friends, preparing for another separation that felt far too much like the last one.

His injuries were all healed within no time, thanks to his physique.

Rena was trying not to cry again, though her efforts weren't entirely successful. "We just got you back," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

"It doesn't seem fair that we have to say goodbye again so soon."

"Life rarely concerns itself with fairness," Taeryn observed, though his usual stoicism was tempered by obvious sadness.

"But we understand why you have to go. We've all seen what happens when they see ones like you."

Baren, in his human form but with golden flecks still swirling in his eyes, clasped Jaenor's shoulder firmly.

"Just... be careful, my friend. Whatever forces are moving in the world, they're bigger than any of us expected. Don't try to face them alone."

"I won't be alone," Jaenor assured them, glancing toward where Morgana waited by the fortress gates.

"And neither will you. Darian will watch over you, and you'll watch over each other. That's what we do."

The farewells were brief but heartfelt, each of them understanding that their paths were diverging toward destinations none of them could fully foresee.

As Jaenor joined Morgana at the gates, he looked back one last time at the three friends who had become his chosen family.

"Ready?" Morgana asked gently.

Jaenor took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead. "As ready as I can be for a journey into the unknown."

Together, they walked through the fortress gates and into the gathering darkness, leaving behind the safety of stone walls and familiar faces for a world that had suddenly become far more complex and dangerous than any of them had imagined.

Behind them, the fortress stood like a beacon of stability in an increasingly uncertain world.

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