LYRIAN AND REONE
Reone sat slumped against the cold stone wall, his breathing shallow but steady. The faint light filtering through the cracked ceiling cast ghostly shadows over his face.
Lyrian knelt beside him, gently helping him sit up straighter until his back was supported.
"You okay?" she asked quietly, worry threading through her voice.
Reone winced but nodded. "I'll felt better," he muttered. " I'll be fine."
Lyrian didn't look convinced, but she didn't press him. She rose and began pacing the small chamber — or whatever this place was — her boots scraping against the dusty floor.
After a moment, Reone spoke. "That place the Sisterhood mentioned — the Temple of Echoes. Do you know where it is, or why they'd be headed there with Damon?"
Lyrian stopped mid-step, brow furrowing as she tried to remember. "Yeah… I think I do. It's somewhere in the northern mountains of Echian," she said slowly. "I remember reading about it back at Arcannum Academy. No one's seen it for centuries. There's a legend tied to it — something ancient, something dark. But I can't recall the details, or what the Sisterhood would want there."
Her hands curled into fists. "I'm sorry," she murmured, voice cracking slightly. "That's not much help."
Reone shook his head, giving her a small smile. "You're being more than helpful, Lyrian. Don't beat yourself up."
Lyrian let out a short, humorless laugh. "Am I, though? Look around. We don't even know where we are, you're hurt, and we have no way to call for help. And me?" She gestured helplessly. "I can't do anything."
"Maybe you can," Reone said after a pause. "Did you bring your communicator."
Lyrian blinked at him. "No, Reone, I didn't exactly stop to grab a crystal in between dodging Damon's attack and trying to stop him from vanishing through a portal!" she snapped.
Her voice rose before she caught herself, sighing. "Sorry. I shouldn't be taking it out on you."
Reone shrugged lightly. "It's fine. I get it."
Something in her chest tightened at that simple understanding. Lyrian sighed again and sank down beside him, pulling her knees up. "This is all my fault," she whispered. "If I hadn't followed Damon, you wouldn't have gotten hurt."
Reone turned to her. "And we wouldn't have learned that the Sisterhood is alive again — or what they're planning," he reminded her. "Following Damon might've just saved a lot of people."
Lyrian nodded faintly, though her expression didn't ease. "Do you think our friends are looking for us?"
Reone hesitated, then shook his head. "Probably. But they've got no idea where we ended up. If they did, they'd be here already."
Lyrian swallowed hard, trying to push down the disappointment.
"We can't just sit here waiting," Reone said firmly.
"I know," Lyrian agreed. "Every minute we waste, they're getting closer to the Temple. If the Sisterhood reaches it first—"
"Then everyone's in danger," Reone finished grimly. "But at least Damon and Veyra were both weakened. That'll slow them down."
"True," Lyrian said thoughtfully. "Caelynn mentioned they need Damon for whatever they're planning at the temple of echoes — and that he has to be strong for it to work."
"That buys us a little time," Reone said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But not much. We need a plan — a way out of here, and to reach the Temple before they do."
Lyrian lifted her head, a spark of determination in her eyes. "Then first, we figure out where we are. There might be something here that can help us."
"Exactly," Reone said, nodding.
Lyrian stood, brushing dust from her clothes — just as her transformation faded, leaving her in her formal gown again. Elegant, yes, but out of place and completely impractical.
"Oh, perfect," she muttered, glaring down. "I'm drained from the fight, my magic's weak, and now I'm stuck like this. Fantastic."
Reone tried not to smile. "Don't panic. You'll recharge soon enough, right?"
"Sure, but until then I'm defenseless."
"Come on, you still know how to fight," he said, smirking faintly. "And I may not be in top form, but I can at least act as a shield."
Lyrian couldn't help laughing. He said it like a joke — but she knew he meant it.
"You've got a point," she said with a smile. "Still, if I try fighting in this dress, I'll trip and break my neck."
Without hesitation, she borrowed Reone's dagger and hacked the lower layers of her gown until it ended at her knees. It looked rough, but it would do.
Reone raised an eyebrow. "You still look great."
Lyrian rolled her eyes, grinning. "Diamond's would be revolted if she me right now."
"Knowing her? Absolutely," Reone replied, smirking.
He tried to stand but wobbled, clearly in pain. Lyrian quickly slipped an arm under his shoulder to steady him — and he didn't pull away. She couldnt help but think how that would never have happened two years ago.
He seemed to really have changed.
Together they managed to get him upright. He waved her off stubbornly when she tried to support him further.
Guess he hasn't changed that much, she thought.
"Fine," she said. "Let's move."
They moved cautiously through the dim corridor. The deeper they went, the colder it became. The air was thick with damp stone and something fouler — a stench of decay and dark resonance that made Lyrian's skin prickle.
"This place reeks," she muttered. "It's awful. How could Damon — or anyone — live here?"
Reone's voice was quiet. "He didn't have a choice. After the attack on Rhys, he was hunted. Places like this were his only option."
Lyrian's gaze softened. "Just goes to show what bitterness and vindictiviness can do to someone."
Reone glanced at her, wondering if she meant Damon — or him. Maybe both. Before he could say anything, something caught his eye.
"Hey… this is weird," he said, pointing toward a room ahead. "One wall looks different than the rest."
He limped forward, ignoring Lyrian's warning. When he brushed his fingers against the wall, his hand slipped right through.
He jerked back, startled. "What the—"
"Reone? What's happening?"
A grin spread across his face — the first real one she'd seen since the battle. He stepped forward again and walked straight through.
"Jackpot," he called.
Lyrian hurried after him — and gasped.
Whoa!" she exclaimed. "Where did this place come from?"
"It must be Damon's. He probably used some kind of enchantment to hide it from prying eyes."
"Oh My Stars…" she whispered.
The hidden chamber stretched wide, carved deep into the rock. It wasn't cold or decayed like the rest. Torches flickered to life as they entered, bathing the space in amber light.
It was fully furnished — a couch, a bed, a magical stove, shelves of books and crystals.
"Guess our guy wasn't exactly roughing it like we thought," Reone muttered.
They moved deeper in. The walls were covered in arcane markings, maps, and crystal instruments that hummed faintly with resonance.
At the center stood an obsidian table littered with open tomes, fragments of armor, and maps of the royal palace of Echian.
Pinned above it were sketches of Rhys — his eyes crudely crossed out.
"This is where he planned the attack," Lyrian said softly, her stomach sinking.