MUSA AND REONE
The ruins of the old fortress smoldered faintly behind them as Lyrian and Reone followed the cracked road north. According to the map, their next destination—the Temple of Echoes—lay beyond the dense stretch of forest ahead.
Reone stopped, spreading the worn parchment across a flat rock. "This way," he said, tracing his finger along the shortest route cutting straight through the forest. "It'll get us there quicker."
Lyrian leaned closer, frowning. "It also says here the forest is crawling with dangerous magical creatures. Maybe we should take the longer path instead—you know, the one that won't try to kill us?"
"That path would take almost twice as long," Reone replied without looking up. "If the Sisterhood and Damon reach the Temple before us, it's over. So we take the shortcut."
Lyrian crossed her arms. "Right, because walking through a monster-infested forest sounds brilliant. It's not like one of us is still recovering, and the other's running on half her strength."
Reone smirked. "You're still this cheerful in the morning, huh?"
Lyrian shot him a look. "Only when I'm stuck following bad ideas so soon after breakfast."
"Why are you so worried? Didn't you say your powers are back?"
"Even magic needs proper fuel and rest," Lyrian shot back. "You can only regain so much energy out here. I'm not exactly at my best—and neither are you."
Reone folded the map. "We're strong enough."
Lyrian rolled her eyes but didn't argue. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right—they couldn't afford to lose time. If the Sisterhood and Damon reached the Temple first, all their efforts would be rendered meaningless. So she followed him, hoping his confidence wasn't misplaced.
The forest wasn't as dark or eerie as she'd imagined. Shafts of golden light pierced through the canopy, catching on drifting motes of dust. Birds sang above, and for a while, the quiet almost felt peaceful.
Still, the silence between them was heavy. Lyrian broke it first. "What do you think Damon and the Sisterhood want at the Temple of Echoes?"
Reone's eyes flicked over the map again. "No idea. But whatever it is, it's bad news for us."
"I wonder what part Damon plays in all this."
"He's a powerful wizard," Reone said flatly. "Maybe they want to use his magic for something."
"Yeah, that sounds plausible," Lyrian murmured. Then, with a half-smile: "You know, talking about it might help keep our minds off the terrifying creatures lurking around us."
Reone shot her a look. "Talking is a great way to draw attention. The less noise, the better."
His tone irritated her, but Lyrian just sighed. He was being practical—annoyingly so—but still practical.
As they walked, she couldn't help watching him. His stride was steady, his balance sure, his shoulders squared like he was marching into battle. If she didn't know better, she'd think he had made a full recovery. The thought filled her with reluctant admiration. Biting her lip, she hoped she wasn't blushing.
By nightfall, the forest had grown darker, its sounds deeper and stranger. When Reone finally stopped, Lyrian nearly sagged in relief.
"We'll camp here," he said, scanning the clearing. "It's too dark to keep going."
Lyrian leaned against a tree, trying not to look exhausted. "Fine by me."
If they'd gone any farther, she might've dropped, she thought.
Reone turned to her, concern flickering across his face. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she lied. "Just need a minute to catch my breath."
Guilt pricked at him. He shouldn't have pushed her so hard. She wasn't a soldier like him.
But before he could speak, Lyrian caught his look. Her jaw tightened. "Oh, wipe that pity off your face. I can handle this. You do remember we trained harder than this at Arcannum, right?"
"That was two years ago," Reone said carefully.
"Are you saying I'm out of shape?"
"Of course not. Just… rusty."
"That's not much better!" she said, glaring.
He held up his hands. "Sorry. Forget I said anything. I'll build the shelter and start a fire. You rest."
"No thanks, Reone," she said stubbornly. "I'm not a princess, so I insist on pulling my own weight."
"I know that," he replied evenly, "but—"
"Great. I'll go find some firewood."
"Lyrian—"
"Don't worry, I won't go far," she called over her shoulder.
"Just... be careful," he warned.
"I'm always careful," she yelled back, then muttered, "It's like he thinks I'm fragile little girl."
Reone sighed. "She's impossible," he muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. Then, with a reluctant smile, "But also kind of perfect."
Lyrian stomped deeper into the woods, muttering, "He thinks just because he's got all that soldier training, he's stronger than me. Arrogant jerk."
She bent to gather fallen branches, forming a small pile. After a while, she straightened, hands on her hips, breathing heavily. "Okay… maybe he did have a point," she admitted under her breath. "Not that he'll ever hear that from me."
As she turned to head back, something caught her ear—the soft murmur of running water. Curious, she followed the sound, pushing past vines and low-hanging branches until the forest opened up into a breathtaking clearing.
A waterfall cascaded down a mossy cliff, spilling into a crystal-blue pool. The air shimmered with mist and moonlight.
"Wow," Lyrian whispered.
Back at camp, Reone tightened the last knot on the small tent. It wasn't perfect, but it would hold. It was big enough for both of them—though he wasn't sure how she'd feel about that. Not that she had a choice about it. It was better than sleeping in the trees.
Reone didn't think things would get there though. They'd been getting along surprisingly well—occasional arguments aside.
Speaking of, she's been gone a while, he thought, frowning. His unease grew with every minute.
"Lyrian's fine," he muttered. "She can handle it."
But the longer he waited, the more worried he became. Finally, he grabbed his blade and followed her trail.
"Lyrian?" he whispered, careful not to draw unwanted attention.
He found the bundle of sticks she'd collected—and then nothing.
She was nowhere to be seen.
A sharp gasp echoed through the trees.
Worried, Reone's pulse jumped. "Lyrian!"
He pushed through the underbrush and stumbled into the clearing—and froze.
The waterfall glittered like silver under the moonlight. Lyrian stood at the edge of the pool, her face lit with wonder.
She turned, grinning. "Reone! Look at this place! Isn't it beautiful?"
He blinked, momentarily speechless. "Yeah… yeah, it's something."
"Seren would lose her mind if she saw this," Lyrian laughed softly. Then she looked at him, mischief sparking in her eyes. "Let's go in."
"What?" Reone asked flatly. "No. We should head back. We're too exposed out here."
"Come on. Don't tell me you don't want to wash off the last two days' worth of dirt and grime."
He hesitated. She wasn't wrong.
"You know you want to," she teased, tilting her head.
He opened his mouth to protest, but Lyrian was already slipping out of her dress until she was down to her undergarments.
"Lyrian," he warned, trying to sound firm.
Too late. She dove into the pool with a splash, vanishing beneath the surface. Moments later, she resurfaced with a bright laugh, water glinting off her hair like strands of midnight.
"This feels amazing!" she said, spinning playfully.
Reone couldn't help smiling. She looked so alive, so carefree—it was disarming. For a moment, he forgot the mission, the map, the danger. He just watched her.
"Are you coming in or what?" she called.
He hesitated, then sighed. He did have his Pulse watch on his wrist and his Spiral strapped to his leg.
"Fine. But you asked for it."
He stripped down to his trunks and jumped in, sending a huge splash her way.
"Reone!" she squealed, laughing. She retaliated with a splash of her own.
They chased each other through the water, laughter echoing off the rocks. For a moment, it was easy to forget the chaos waiting beyond the forest. Then they stopped—too close, breathing hard, gazes locked.
Something unspoken passed between them.
They leaned in—closer, closer—
A sudden roar shook the pool. The water erupted as a massive serpent burst from the depths, scales glinting green and gold.
Lyrian's eyes widened. "Reone—"
"Get behind me," he said, his voice sharp with focus. Not that he expected her to listen.
And he was right.
Lyrian steadied herself, magic flaring in her hands. "No way."