The hall remained so quiet that the sound of Lord Cris unfolding the paper seemed deafening.
His aged hands trembled.
Not from weakness.
But from fear.
Fear of reading the final words his son had left behind.
He took a slow breath.
Then continued.
Father,
If you're reading this...
Then it seems I've finally lost my fight against fate.
To be honest, I always hoped this letter would never be opened.
I spent twenty years trying to prove an Oracle wrong.
Turns out... fate is every bit as stubborn as you are.
A faint smile appeared on Lord Cris's face.
A broken smile.
One filled with unbearable pain.
He continued reading.
The first thing I want to say...
...is something I should have said twenty years ago.
I'm sorry.
Lord Cris's breathing became uneven.
I'm sorry for leaving without saying goodbye.
I'm sorry for making you worry all these years.
I'm sorry that every piece of news about me reached you through someone else's letters instead of my own voice.
Most of all...
I'm sorry for making an old father wait.
The old chief lowered the letter.
His eyes slowly closed.
For a brief moment...
No one knew whether he could continue.
The entire hall remained perfectly still.
Eventually...
He opened his eyes again.
His voice had become softer.
Almost fragile.
Father...
Many people believed I left because I hated this tribe.
They were wrong.
I left because I loved it too much.
Several elders looked up.
Even Varinder's younger brother froze.
You once asked me why I smiled while walking away from everything I was born to inherit.
The truth is...
I never walked away from responsibility.
I simply chose a different one.
Lord Cris slowly lowered his head.
You always taught me that a chief exists to protect his people.
I never forgot that lesson.
I simply wanted to build a place where I could protect people in my own way.
That place became Vera.
A single tear rolled down Lord Cris's wrinkled face.
He did not wipe it away.
Father...
I was happy.
Truly happy.
I hunted when I wanted to hunt.
I laughed until my stomach hurt.
I argued with Vicky almost every day.
A weak laugh escaped several elders.
Even through their grief...
They knew it was true.
I married the woman I loved.
I watched my daughter grow into someone kind.
I held my son in my arms for the first time.
Those moments...
Were worth more than every position I left behind.
Lord Cris's vision blurred.
The words before him slowly disappeared beneath his tears.
He raised a trembling hand.
Carefully wiping his eyes.
Then continued.
So please...
Never think I regretted my decision.
Not for a single day.
If I were given another chance...
I would still choose the same road.
Because that road gave me my family.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Even breathing seemed too loud.
Lord Cris swallowed.
Then read the next lines.
If Devika and I are buried together...
Please let us rest side by side.
She spent her life walking beside me.
I'd like eternity to be the same.
The old chief could no longer keep his composure.
His shoulders trembled.
He pressed the letter against his chest.
As though he could somehow embrace the son whose words filled its pages.
Several moments passed before he found the strength to continue.
Please don't blame Vicky.
My heart stopped.
Lord Cris slowly looked toward me.
I lowered my head.
Unable to meet his gaze.
Everything that happened was beyond his control.
He kept his promise until the very end.
If anyone deserves blame...
Blame fate.
I've spent twenty years arguing with it.
Turns out...
It never listened.
A bitter laugh echoed through the hall.
It quickly dissolved into silence once again.
Lord Cris's hands shook violently.
He forced himself onward.
Take care of Rajiv.
He's stubborn.
Just like his grandfather.
For the first time...
A genuine smile appeared through Lord Cris's tears.
Take care of Ananya too.
She pretends to be strong...
But she carries everything inside her heart.
Don't let either of them ever feel abandoned.
The old chief slowly nodded.
Almost unconsciously.
As though answering his son.
Then...
He reached the final lines.
His breathing stopped.
Father...
I know I haven't earned the right to ask you for anything.
But I have one final request.
The entire hall waited.
Don't remember me as the son who left home.
Remember me...
As the son who found one.
Lord Cris's vision blurred completely.
His voice almost disappeared.
Yet he continued.
Because despite everything...
I truly lived a happy life.
His lips trembled.
The final signature remained.
He stared at it for a very long time.
As though unwilling to read the final word.
Eventually...
He whispered it.
Your son...
Varinder.
The letter slipped from his trembling fingers.
For several moments...
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Lord Cris slowly bent down.
Picked up the letter with both hands.
Then...
Pressed it tightly against his chest.
The proud chief of the Varien Tribe...
The man who had stood undefeated for decades...
Finally broke.
His shoulders shook violently.
Tears flowed without restraint.
He no longer cared who saw him.
He no longer cared about dignity.
Or pride.
Or status.
He simply cried.
Not as the Chief of the Varien Tribe.
Not as one of the strongest cultivators in the region.
But as a father...
Who had waited twenty years to embrace his eldest son.
Only to receive a farewell written in ink.
The hall remained silent.
Many elders quietly wiped away tears.
Several warriors lowered their heads.
Even my father silently turned away.
Unable to watch.
I stood there...
Watching an old man mourn the son he would never see again.
Only then did I truly understand.
Varinder's battle was over.
Mine...
Had only begun.
Lord Cris's...
Had only begun.
And somewhere inside this very tribe...
A little boy named Rajiv still slept peacefully.
Completely unaware...
That the weight of an entire generation had just fallen upon his shoulders.
Outside...
The first rays of sunlight broke through the eastern sky.
A new day had begun.
But inside the Grand Hall...
It still felt like night.