Whispers of Elysia

The departure

Lyra took a deep breath as she packed the final belongings into her linen bag, the familiar scents of Elysia filling the air around her. The vibrant forests and shimmering rivers of her homeland had been her sanctuary for so long, but now, she was ready to leave it all behind. The decision to depart from Elysia wasn't an easy one, but the desire to start anew and carve out her own path had grown stronger with each passing day.

She carefully folded a delicate, handkerchief embroidered with unknown constellations—one of the few keepsakes she had chosen to bring along—and tucked it into the bag. The limited space forced her to leave many cherished items behind, but she knew that the journey ahead would be long and challenging. Each item she had packed carried meaning, reminding her of the life she was leaving behind while also promising hope for what was to come.

As she stood in the doorway of her now-empty room, a wave of nostalgia washed over her. The memories of her childhood, the laughter, and the warmth of her family filled her heart, but she knew this was a necessary step. She was setting out for the unknown, for a new province called Nocturion, where she hoped to find purpose, adventure, but desperatly money.

The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft, golden light over the familiar landscape. Lyra's heart ached as she took one last look at the place she had called home for so long. She wasn't just leaving a physical place—she was leaving behind a part of herself, the part that had always been tied to Elysia.

As Lyra descended the stairs, the familiar and comforting aroma of Elysian elk stew wafted through the air, bringing with it a flood of memories from her childhood. The sight of her mother, Binitia, waiting for her in the living room tugged at her heart. Binitia's golden hair, catching the early morning sunlight, shimmered like strands of pure gold, a sight that Lyra would miss dearly.

Binitia approached her with a warm, albeit sad, smile. The depth of her emotions was evident, even as she tried to hold back tears. "My little girl is now leaving for good," she sighed, her voice trembling slightly. "You know you can still come back if it's too rough for you." She paused, gently cupping Lyra's face in her hands. "Lill dall dim wuéyr urr dall." (This home will always be your home.)

Lyra couldn't help but chuckle sadly, the weight of her decision pressing down on her. "Eil naeriff, umyl," (I know, mom.) she replied softly, pulling her mother into a tight embrace. The reality of the moment settled in as she realized she didn't know when she would see her mother again. Tears began to well up in her eyes, the bittersweetness of leaving home overwhelming her.

Binitia wiped away Lyra's tears with her thumb. "Your grandfather would be so proud of you, Lyra. He knew you would go far." The mention of her grandfather, the man who had ignited her passion for alchemy, brought a fresh wave of emotion. The tender memories of him, teaching her, guiding her, came rushing back, and she couldn't stop the warm tears from falling.

With a newfound resolve, Lyra pulled back slightly, looking her mother in the eyes. "I'll send the money soon, umyl. You won't have to sell anything," she said confidently, her determination to succeed shining through her tears.

Binitia smiled, her pride in her daughter evident despite the sadness of the farewell. "I know you will, my dear. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, I'll always know how to handle myself. Money will never be a problem."

Lyra nodded, knowing that this goodbye was only the beginning of a new chapter. With one last hug, she stepped away, ready to face the world beyond Elysia, carrying with her the love and strength of her family.

As Lyra made her way to the port, her footsteps were heavy with both anticipation and melancholy. The streets were quiet in the early morning, and the soft light of dawn barely illuminated the stone pathways of Elysia. 

When she reached the port, she couldn't help but pause in front of the statue of Aeloria, the revered goddess who had always been seen as the protector of their homeland. The statue stood tall and graceful, its intricately carved features exuding a serene beauty that seemed to offer comfort to all who gazed upon it. The dim morning light gently kissed the face of the goddess, making Aeloria appear almost alive, as if she were watching over the land and its people. For a moment, Lyra felt a sense of reassurance, as though the goddess was blessing her journey, just as she blessed those who arrived in and departed from Elysia. The statue was a symbol of peace, a reminder of the long-lasting tranquility that had enveloped their nation for as long as Lyra could remember. 

But that peace had come at a price : economic stagnation had forced many to leave their homes in search of work, and now Lyra was one of them.

With a final glance at the statue, Lyra turned and boarded the oak boat that would take her away from everything she had ever known. She found a spot near the edge, settling in as comfortably as she could on the wooden bench. The chill of the morning air nipped at her skin, but she pulled her mother's scarf tighter around her shoulders, drawing warmth and solace from the familiar fabric. It still carried the faint scent of home, a mix of herbs and the comforting smell of their hearth.

As the boat began to drift away from the dock, Lyra reached into her pocket and pulled out a rose honey bun, still warm from the oven. She unwrapped it carefully, savoring the comforting sweetness as she took a bite. The taste reminded her of the simpler times of her childhood, when everything seemed so much easier and the future was still a distant concept. 

She chewed slowly, her gaze fixed on the horizon where the misty outline of her homeland was slowly fading. The towering trees, the rolling hills, the familiar skyline of Elysia—they all began to blur into the distance, becoming nothing more than a memory. 

Lyra swallowed the last bite of the bun. She was leaving behind more than just a place; she was leaving behind a part of herself. But as the boat carried her further into the unknown, she knew she was also moving toward something new, something that could only be discovered by letting go of the past.