Chapter 1: My Ex Said I Was Boring, So I Retired

The breakup happened on a Tuesday—

Letizia stood in the center of our apartment, tears streaming down her face like she was auditioning for a theater troupe— her hands clutched a letter, probably from him, the Knight Commander with the stupid cape and even stupider jawline— the morning light caught her auburn hair just right, making the whole scene look like a painting… too bad I was more interested in the tea kettle whistling behind her—

“I can’t do this anymore.”

I reached past her shoulder and grabbed the kettle, pouring hot water into my cup— the steam curled between us, soft and unbothered—

“Do what?”

She wiped her eyes, smudging the kohl she’d spent an hour applying that morning— her lip trembled, the way it always did when she wanted me to feel guilty about something—

“This— us— you.”

I dropped a tea bag into the cup and watched it sink… chamomile, good choice for a Tuesday morning breakup—

“That’s three things.”

“You don’t even care, do you?”

I looked up at her, really looked— she was beautiful when she cried, all flushed cheeks and trembling hands— five years together and she still thought tears would crack my shell… I took a sip of tea, too hot, burned my tongue—

“Should I?”

That did it— her face crumpled completely, angry now instead of sad— she threw the letter at my chest, it bounced off and fluttered to the floor like a dying bird—

“Commander Aldric understands me— he has ambition, drive, purpose— he wants to change the kingdom.”

I bent down and picked up the letter, scanning it quickly— flowery handwriting, lots of words like “destiny” and “honor” and “together we shall forge”… I handed it back to her—

“Sounds exhausting.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

I moved past her to the window, cradling my tea like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to this conversation— the city sprawled below us, all cobblestone streets and market stalls and people rushing to jobs they probably hated— somewhere down there, Commander Aldric was probably polishing his sword and thinking about justice or whatever—

“Good luck with the paperwork, Letizia.”

She made a sound between a sob and a scream— books flew off the shelf behind me, her telekinesis flaring with emotion— a candle exploded, the curtains caught fire briefly before I waved my hand, snuffing it out without looking—

“You could be great— you have more power than anyone in this kingdom, maybe the whole continent— but you waste it drinking tea and reading trashy novels.”

I turned to face her, still holding my cup— she was shaking now, fists clenched at her sides—

“I like trashy novels.”

“Aldric said you’re scared— that you hide behind laziness because you’re afraid of real responsibility.”

I raised an eyebrow… Commander Aldric had opinions about me? How cute—

“Aldric says a lot of things— most of them involve the words ‘blade’ and ‘justice’ in the same sentence.”

“He’s a hero.”

“He’s a politician with a sword.”

She slapped me— the crack echoed through the apartment, sharp and final— my cheek stung but I didn’t move, just kept looking at her with the same lazy expression I’d worn since this whole thing started—

“I hope you’re happy alone.”

I smiled then, just a little— the kind of smile that made her take a step back—

“I will be.”

Packing took three hours because I kept getting distracted by things I’d forgotten I owned— a jade pendant from that bandit incident up north, a deck of cards with runes I’d never figured out, seven different tea sets because apparently past me had a collecting problem—

I left most of the furniture— Letizia could keep it or burn it, didn’t matter— I took my favorite chair though, the one that was broken in just right, with the cushion that remembered the shape of my ass after five years of dedicated sitting—

The landlord found me levitating the chair down the stairs because the stairwell was too narrow—

“Moving out, Dorian?”

“Yep.”

He scratched his beard, eyeing the floating chair with suspicion— magic always made normal people nervous—

“Shame— you were a quiet tenant.”

“Quietest.”

“Where you headed?”

I thought about it— the mountains up north had always looked peaceful from a distance, all pine trees and snow caps and zero romantic drama—

“Somewhere boring.”

He laughed like I’d made a joke… I hadn’t—

The city gates were crowded with merchants and travelers, everyone pushing to get in or out before the afternoon heat set in— guards checked papers and wagons, going through the motions of security theater— one of them recognized me and waved me through without question—

Perks of being known as “that guy who ended the demon war but refuses to talk about it”—

The road north stretched ahead, dirt and stones winding through farmland and forest— I walked slowly, chair floating behind me like a loyal dog— birds sang, wind rustled through wheat fields, someone’s cow mooed in the distance… it was aggressively peaceful—

Perfect.

Around noon, a merchant caravan passed me going the opposite direction— the driver slowed his horses, leaning out to shout—

“You headed to the mountains alone?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Bandits up that way— heard they got magic users now.”

I adjusted my hat, wide-brimmed and floppy, the kind that screamed “I have given up on looking professional”—

“I’ll manage.”

He shrugged and snapped his reins, leaving me in a cloud of dust— I waved it away with a flick of my wrist, watching the particles dance and scatter—

The bandits found me three hours later— seven of them, all leather armor and bad attitudes— their leader had a scar across his nose that probably looked intimidating to farmers—

“Nice chair.”

I stopped walking— the chair settled gently on the ground behind me—

“Thanks— it’s vintage.”

“Hand over your coin and we’ll let you keep walking.”

I looked at each of them in turn— two archers in the trees, three swordsmen blocking the path, one mage in the back with fingers already glowing with a fire spell, the leader with his hand on a dagger that looked expensive—

Professional setup, decent positioning… terrible target selection—

“I don’t have coin.”

The leader’s smile widened— “Then we’ll take the chair— and your clothes— and probably your life.”

I sighed, the kind of deep, soul-tired sigh that came from dealing with this exact situation at least fifty times before—

“Can you not?”

The mage’s spell flew first, a fireball the size of a melon aimed right at my chest— I caught it with one hand, compressed it into a marble, and flicked it back— it hit the ground at his feet and fizzled out harmlessly—

Complete silence.

“I just want to get to my mountain cabin and drink tea in peace— is that too much to ask?”

The archers shot— I tilted my head, the arrows curved around me and embedded themselves in a tree ten feet away—

The leader drew his dagger, hands shaking now— “What are you?”

“Tired.”

I snapped my fingers— all seven of them collapsed, not dead but deeply, magically unconscious— they’d wake up in a few hours with headaches and hopefully better career choices—

I picked up my chair and kept walking—

The cabin appeared at sunset, exactly where the old map said it would be— dilapidated didn’t quite cover it, the roof had holes, the door hung at an angle, and something was definitely living in the chimney— vines covered the walls like nature was trying to reclaim the whole structure—

I loved it immediately.

The inside was worse— dust everywhere, broken furniture, a family of mice scattered when I opened the door— the floorboards creaked ominously, threatening to give way if I breathed too hard—

I set down my chair in the center of the main room— it looked ridiculous, this one piece of civilized furniture in the middle of decay—

Perfect.

Through the broken window, mountains stretched in every direction, peaks touching clouds that glowed orange and pink in the dying light— no city noise, no crying ex-girlfriends, no Commander Aldric with his stupid opinions about ambition—

Just wind and trees and the distant call of something that might have been an owl—

I pulled out my last tea bag, earl grey saved for special occasions, and heated water with a touch of magic— the cup warmed my hands as I settled into my chair, feet propped on a piece of wood that used to be a table—

Tomorrow I’d fix the roof… maybe, or the day after— time didn’t matter up here—

I took a sip and smiled.

“Finally— peace and quiet.”

A wolf howled somewhere in the distance— the mice returned, chittering in the walls— the wind picked up, rattling the broken shutters—

I closed my eyes, completely content—

This was going to be perfect.