Morning found its way gently into the Guild infirmary.
Sunlight poured through the lattice windows, warming the stone floor and painting long, honey-gold stripes across Lyra's face. She hadn't slept the entire night. Her cheeks were still damp. Her eyes were red. But she hadn't moved from Friezzar's bedside.
Arden had fallen asleep in a chair across from her, snoring quietly with his sword still clutched in his hand. Even asleep, his brow was furrowed, as if keeping watch in his dreams.
The mages slept slumped against the walls, drained from hours of stabilizing Friezzar's core.
Only one person stayed awake through the dawn: Friezzar.
His eyes glowed faintly as he watched Lyra sleep, her hair spilling across his arm. He did not move—half because he lacked the strength, half because he feared waking her.
She had cried for him.
She had fought for him.
She had stayed.
He didn't want to disturb that warmth.
His voice emerged like a soft breeze: "…Lyra…"
She stirred instantly, lifting her head with a gasp.
"Friezzar…? You're awake?"
He nodded slowly. "…awake."
Lyra blinked rapidly, tears welling again.
"You scared me… you scared me so much…"
Her hands cupped his face, trembling with relief.
Friezzar blinked, studying her expression.
Then he lifted his hand—still cracked, still weak—and brushed away her tears.
"…Lyra safe."
Lyra covered his hand with her own and gave a watery laugh.
"Don't say it like you're asking."
"…safe?" he tried again softly.
She leaned her forehead to his.
"Yes. I'm safe. You kept me safe."
Friezzar's eyes softened. "…good."
Arden snorted awake across the room.
"Huh—wha—oh. He's alive." He rubbed his face. "Thank the gods. I was about to start crying and ruin my reputation."
Lyra glared at him.
"You cried already."
Arden jolted upright.
"I—WHAT—?! I DID NOT—!"
Oren entered the room right on cue, arms crossed.
"Yes, you did," Oren said flatly.
Arden deflated.
Lyra snorted.
Friezzar blinked. "…Arden… cry?"
Arden pointed a finger at him.
"Don't you start too."
Friezzar tilted his head innocently. "…cry."
Arden groaned.
"Fantastic. Now the puppet is sassy."
The Guild's Decision
The room quieted as Oren approached Friezzar's bedside. His stern guildmaster face softened—just a little.
"You saved lives down there," he said quietly. "More than you know."
Friezzar blinked. "…Friezzar… protect."
Oren nodded.
"Yes. You protected the team. You protected Lyra. You resisted the intruder and defied the dungeon's call."
He exhaled deeply.
"For that reason, the guild has decided you are officially under our care and protection. Permanently."
Lyra gasped.
Arden's jaw dropped.
Friezzar tilted his head, confused. "…per…ma…nent?"
Lyra smiled, tears shining.
"It means… you have a place here. A home."
Friezzar stared at her. Then placed a hand to his chest. "…home."
Oren cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable with emotional moments.
"However—"
Arden sighed.
"There's always a 'however.'"
"—your existence creates danger," Oren continued. "Whoever that cloaked figure is, he isn't done. He shattered the dungeon core. He nearly killed you. And he'll return."
The room fell heavy.
Lyra swallowed.
"Then we'll be ready."
Oren nodded.
"That's why we're assigning dedicated watch rotations and training programs. We'll prepare the guild. And Friezzar—"
He met the puppet's glowing gaze.
"You will need to grow stronger. Much stronger."
Friezzar nodded once. "…grow."
Arden smirked.
"Well, good. Because I'm going to train you personally."
Lyra gasped.
"You're volunteering?!"
Arden looked offended.
"No, I'm not volunteering. I'm… being assigned." He glared at Oren. "Right?"
Oren shrugged.
"If it makes him listen faster, yes."
Friezzar blinked at Arden. "…Arden train Friezzar?"
Arden puffed out his chest.
"Damn right I will. And we're starting with—"
Lyra cut him off.
"No. He just woke up."
Arden looked offended again.
"But—"
"No."
Friezzar tilted his head. "…train… later?"
"Yes," Lyra said firmly. "Later."
Arden crossed his arms.
"You know, puppet, if you ever want to say 'no' to her, now's the time to practice."
Friezzar tilted his head. "…no."
Lyra raised a brow.
"No to what?"
Friezzar blinked. "…don't know."
Arden groaned.
"Hopeless."
When Everyone Leaves
Eventually, Oren dismissed everyone to give the puppet rest.
Arden reluctantly left, muttering, "If he glows weird or starts floating, CALL ME."
Lyra laughed softly. "Go eat before you faint."
Arden rolled his eyes and left the room.
The mages dimmed the lanterns and stepped out quietly.
Only Lyra remained at Friezzar's side.
She brushed her fingers along the cracks in his chest.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Friezzar blinked. "…sorry?"
"You got hurt protecting me. You nearly—" Her voice trembled. "You nearly died."
Friezzar touched her cheek with slow care. "…Lyra… cry."
She sniffed, wiping her eyes.
"It's your fault."
Friezzar blinked again, confused. "…Friezzar… fault?"
She huffed.
"Yes. Because you made me care."
Her cheeks reddened instantly.
Friezzar tilted his head, confused by human emotion yet memorizing every shift in her voice. "…care?"
Lyra hid her face in her hands.
"You're impossible…"
Friezzar gently lifted her hands away. His glow softened. "…Lyra care. Friezzar… stay."
Her breath caught. Then she smiled—weak, tired, overwhelmed, but genuine.
"I'm glad."
Friezzar's carved hand slid into hers.
"…Lyra."
"Yes?"
"…home."
Lyra pressed her forehead to his again.
"Yes," she whispered. "You're home."
Far Beyond—the Threat Awakens
In a distant ruin buried beneath a mountain, the intruder kneeled before a massive stone altar.
Dark runes glowed in a widening circle around him.
A monstrous whisper rose from the depths below.
"The vessel resisted."
The intruder bowed his head.
"Yes. He chose the humans."
A rumble vibrated through the chamber.
"Then break him. Break his attachments. Break his choice."
The figure stood, red eyes burning.
"As you command."
A crack of mana split the air.
"The next vessel," he murmured, "is ready."