Lyra

”Heroes aren’t born from happiness.”-The Human Soul, chapter 2, volume 2.

“Ashes, boy. Have you not been training?” Gregori shouts at Lyra from his throne, his pale skin basking in the midday sun. 

Lyra sighs, awkwardly holding onto the heavy sword in her hands. 

“I could be singing for pretty girls right now...” She mumbles under her breath. 

“What’s that, little brother?” Lochaine jeers, idly swinging his blade.

“Perhaps if you gave a city rat’s fat arse about fighting me we could’ve finished already, but you keep dancing around like a cowardly little shit!” He bursts into low, malicious laughter. 

“I don’t want to fight you!” Her voice trembles like a scared childs’. “Do I have to?”

Lochaine sighs, his face scrunched up in disgust. “Stop whining, or are you just a scared little girl?” 

Lyra rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Yes...” she mutters under her breath. 

“Enough talking!” The king screamed in her ears. “Finish this, sons! You are Fabled, not common fighters. Even the weakest among us could knock a combatant to the ground.”

Lochaine spits on the ground, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “With pleasure, father.”

Eyes lit up in a vermilion glow, he takes a deep breath, before exhaling out a barrage of flames at helpless Lyra.

She flinches, a bolt of panic hitting her heart. Fighting her terror, she pulls a stream of water from a trough and shields herself with it...but the fire proves too strong. 

Lyra screams and falls on her back as the fire breath pushes through her shield of steam, her bulky and brittle armor clanking on the ground.

Her brother laughs and breezily walks closer to her. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Tears glisten in her eyes as the sound of her scream echoes in her mind. “Please...” she whispers. 

“Don't beg, you little weakling. Stand up and fight! If you aren’t even capable of sparring with your brother, you are useless to me. No, you are a Sirenborn as well, which makes you worse than useless. Just like your mother!” Her father sneers, rage twisting his face. 

With a shaky breath, she stands up and raises her hand. The steam condenses, creating water around her and coursing to assume the shapes of wolves. They stand beside her, growling fiercely at lochaine. 

“Get him!” She squeaks, and the wolves viciously charge her sneering brother, but he merely chuckles. 

“Aw, puppies. How adorable.” He traces a finger over his blade and watches as the sword blazes with fire. 

He whistles lazily as he cuts the wolves apart with his sword until they’re nothing but puddles on the earth. 

Lyra’s eyes light up in a sky blue color, “Stop! Put down your weapon!” She shouts, her voice taking on an ethereal, mystical tone as it echoes across the battlefield. 

Lochaine raises his eyebrows, then guffaws with laughter. “Your Siren voice? Really? Come on now, your sad mind magic will never work on me.” 

The prince swings his blade at her, and she just barely lifts her sword to block him. The princess shakily struggles against his strength, she spots a puddle of water from the corner of her and flicks her finger, sending the puddle into Lochaine's eyes. 

“Oh come now, that’s just sad.” He taunts, rubbing his eyes. 

A dizzying sense of fear rushed through her, and she ran off.

He snorts, and breaks into a sprint, effortlessly grabbing Lyra from behind. She squeals as he holds her, “Please! I’m sorry!” then, without saying a word he throws her in the air until she lands in a pool of wet mud. 

She groans, and hastily climbs back on her feet, her eyes sullen and tears freely falling down her cheeks, the sounds of Lochaine's triumphant, venomous laughter ringing in her ears.

“Go, Dorian, clean yourself up before you embarrass me any further. And train, if you will not train if you will not fight, you will be no prince of Cintra. If you’re lucky I’ll just have you tossed on the streets.” The king’s voice was like a rising storm, and Lyra holds her breath until she leaves its outflow. 

She fights the urge to cry more as with every step she takes she feels the eyes of the castle’s guards and staff on her, staring with disdain and contempt. Lyra ignores their not-so-subtle whispering until she storms into her room. 

“Milady!” A bubbly, lilting girl’s voice played in her ears. 

Lyra looks at her willowy maid and smiles happily, her heart beating a little easier. 

Miri jumps up from the middle-sized bed and shuts the beautifully ornate door behind her muddied princess, quickly embracing her in a tight hug.

“Hey, Miri....” She whispers. “You don’t mind the mud?” 

“Of course not, silly!” Miri giggles then grab a towel, “I mean how’s a bit of mud and dirt ever gonna stop me from hugging my favorite princess? Anyway, why don’t I get you cleaned up after you’ve shape-changed, I’ve already cleaned the mirror for you.” 

“Aye, I, I need to change...gods I really do.” Lyra breathes, inching closer to the intricately decorated, crystalline mirror.

Miri holds out a bowl of sparkling water. “Here you are, M’lady.”

Lyra dips her fingers in the bowl, then draws a droplet symbol on the mirror. The symbol shines like a star, and the mirror radiates a flash of brilliant violet light. 

She opens her eyes and her lips part. Then she exhales a shaky sigh, hugging herself. 

Miri grins, her autumn brown eyes meeting Lyra’s shining crystal blue eyes. “Hiya, your majesty.” 

The princess returns her grin and curtsies. “Hi!” She chirps, her voice soft and feathery, like down feathers, or a siren’s hair. 

“You can go ahead and clean me now if you don’t mind?” 

“Sure thing, milady.” She soaks a towel in a sink and delicately rubs it over Lyra’s face, revealing a stream of freckles over her slim heart-shaped face. 

“So, how’s practice? Did you kick his royal arse’s behind?” 

She lightly shakes her head. “No, but I managed to summon two water wolves this time! My nose didn’t bleed either, so that’s good. My limit’s growing!” 

Miri nods, running her towel through Lyra’s fiery waist-length hair. “A shame you can’t fight as well as you shape-change. Or scry, or use your mind magic, or...” 

“I get it, Miri, I’m wimpy.” Lyra giggles, the tension in her heart fluttering away. 

“I don’t mind though, I hate fighting...even if dad forces me to do it. I can scry and shape-change like no one else, though. If you need a spy, I’m your girl!” She jests, posing dramatically.

The maid cracks a smile, then shrugs a shoulder. “That’s true, but I love a good fight. I’m itching to see your brother get his arse beaten. He’s a right prick if I’ve ever seen one.”

Lyra’s shoulders sag. “Aye, he is...but he’s still my brother.” She eyes the floor while her maid cleaned the muddy towel. “I have to believe there’s good in him somewhere. There has to be, right?”

Miri clenches her teeth. “I don’t know, milady. I just know you’re the only Cirrian royal who isn’t rotten, or with an oversized stick up their arsehole.” 

She draws the towel over the rest of Lyra’s hair and body, then tosses it back in the sink. 

“Would you like me to change you until you’re summoned again? I have a new dress for you.”

The princess smiles, joy bubbling up inside her. “Yes please, I’d love that!” 

Miri beams at her, then runs off to her room, when she comes back she’s holding a simple, scarlet red maid’s dress, identical to the one she’s wearing herself. 

“I got this for you, milady. I was thinking that if you wanted, now you could leave your room as...yourself! You’d have to pose as a maid though, and give up on wearing the fancy dresses I stole from your sister, but you already know everything there is to know about being a maid so it shouldn’t be a problem.” 

Lyra squeals and tackles her to the ground. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!” 

Miri’s face turns as red as a tomato’s. “You’re…welcome!” She grins impishly. “You can thank me by-"

She furrows her brows, “-Miri you can’t sleep in my bed tonight. I don’t want you to get in trouble again. What happens if someone asks for you and you’re not even in your own quarters? Madam Morgause was furious last time…”

Her friend pouts, then gets on her feet, lays the dress on the bed, and folds her arms. “But it’s so...comfy!” 

Lyra sighs, and mirrors Miri’s posture. “Well…” Her lips curl into an easy, infectious smile. “Alright! But just for tonight, so you’d better savor it.”

Miri giggles mischievously. “Believe me, I will.” She gives her a wink, her lips curling into the faintest sly smile.

“Hmm? What was that?” She tilts her head. “Why are you winking at me?”

“Oh, no reason...” She clears her throat and pushes the princess behind a screen. She stretches her fingers and swiftly changes her out of her brittle armor into the maid’s dress. 

“There ya go, milady. Although…” Her eyes twinkle with a gleam of mischief. “I guess I don’t have to call you milady anymore, servant Lyra.” 

She puffs her cheeks and sticks out her tongue. 

Miri snorts and sticks out her tongue in response, she breaks into a fit of giggles, then ruffles the redhead’s hair. 

“Your highness, if you don’t mind me saying so, you’re adorable.” 

Lyra’s cheeks turn pink as she giggles in a loose fist. She opens her mouth to speak but she’s interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open. 

“Ashes, I forgot to lock it,” Miri mumbles, fidgeting with her honey-gold locks. Lyra shoots her a glare, but she can only grimace in response. 

“Where in the burning hells is my brother? Maid!” Lochaine bellows. The girls sheepishly walk into view and curtsied in perfect harmony. 

“Well...hello ladies.” He jeers, his eyes falling on Lyra’s chest before instantly darting to Miri’s. 

“Highness,” Miri mutters, fighting back the urge to slap his smug royal cheeks. 

“Your majesty, your sibling isn’t here,” Lyra said, in the sweetest tone she could muster. 

“He’s not?” The prince quirks an eyebrow. “How odd...” he looks around, thoughtfully stroking his chin. 

“You. Milie. You are his maid. You must know where h-“ 

Miri’s eyes sparked with fury. “-My name is Miri, highness, and I don’t know where your sibling is either. Maybe try the taverns? I’ll certainly be going there now, after having the esteemed honor of holding a conversation with you.” She folds her arms, impatiently tapping her foot. “But, I believe mila-...my master spoke of going to the cinder gardens. Try there.”

Lochaine glares at the maid, his lips set in a thin line. 

“If you were my maid, I’d have you sent to the dungeons just for the tone you’re speaking to me with, and for losing your prince. Luckily for you, I’m busy, so you’re not going there today. If you find my brother, be sure to tell him it’s dinner time.”

His eyes bore into hers before he turns on his heel and departs. 

Lyra releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding and leans on her friend’s shoulder. “Why is he like that?” 

Miri runs her fingers through Lyra’s red locks and breathes out a sharp sigh. 

“I don’t know. Reckon he’s just a prick. Sometimes people are born that way, ya know?” 

“Born to be a prick?” 

“Aye.” 

The princess shuts her eyes, anxiety clawing at her heart. “Can we just stay like this for a while? I don’t want to turn back yet.” 

Miri smiles softly, and she pecks her forehead. “Of course, milady. As long as you want.” 

The girls stood there, for a while, in silence. Until Lyra opens her eyes, changes back to a simple tunic, and slowly saunters to the mirror. She waves her fingers over her reflection, and moments later she’s back to drying her tears. 

“I’ll...be back soon.” Her voice is barely a whisper. 

She pulls her gaze to her reflection and traces her fingers over her eyes. She blinks. And her red, puffy eyes shimmer. and then, just for a moment, faint traces of mist cloud her eyes. She watches as every trace of her cries vanish until it’s like she never cried in the first place.

Lyra’s face hardens, she grabs a small vial and makes her way to the dining room. 

“Open the doors for prince Dorian!” A guard shouts, and the grandiose doors are quickly opened. 

“Ah! Baby brother!” A honeyed, girlish voice chirps. Lyra stops in her tracks and waits. 

A breath later she’s blinded by a flash of ivory light, and a girl giggles in her ears. 

Caitryn gazes at Lyra’s hands and tilts her head with a scowl. 

“Do you have my lotion? Please tell me you do! Ashes, I’m gonna be fucking pissed if you don’t.” 

Lyra rolls her eyes. “I am not your baby brother...besides, I’m older than you but…” She breathes out the tiniest sigh, and tries giving her the vial. 

“Here you go, Caitryn. Try not to use it all at once again.” 

Her sister snatches the vial and snickers. “And what if I do? You’ll get me a new one, baby brother...whether you want to or not.” Lyra draws her lips back into a snarl, but stays quiet, much to her sister’s amusement.

“Now sit! Eat with us, but you should be quiet, father’s in a nasty mood ever since our big brother wiped the floor with your sad little arse. As usual…And considering your mere presence usually angers him I suspect he might lose his temper, but don’t fret! Just shut your mouth and all will be well.”

She flicks her long, chestnut brown tresses and gives her a wink. “Or not!” She giggles and teleports back to her seat, neatly crossing her legs. “Ah...How I love being a Starborn.” 

Lyra takes a deep breath and sits opposite her sister. 

“There you are, puddle prince.” Lochaine sneers, sitting down next to the king. “I see your maid has cleaned you well after our little trashing. She’s quite beautiful, you must’ve enjoyed the feeling of her hands all over your-“ 

“Lochaine. Control yourself, you are the crown prince. I expect you to behave as such, even in private.” The king chides, sipping from his blood-red wine. 

“But that does remind me, Dorian, how is your...bardic charm? Lochaine has yet to produce an heir, and I am growing impatient. Tomorrow princess Dawn of the Asteria vales arrives for a visit, I expect you to bed with her. Especially as Lochaine will be occupied on military matters.” 

Lyra’s face turns ashen, her eyes wild with terror. “Father I…” 

The king slams his fist on the table, and Caitryn quietly giggles to herself. 

“QUIET!” He yells, the room shaking and trembling at the sheer, raw power of his voice. “YOU are my son. And YOU will do your duty to Cintra and to ME! I have tolerated you, and your Sirenborn nature for nearly two decades, and I am weary of it. Very, very, weary. Fuck the Estellian princess. I do not care if you need to beg, just get it done” 

Gregori rubs his forehead and taps his fingers on the table. “You will find a way. And by the sacred ashes, you will produce an heir for Cintra. Or so help me, our family has been the laughing stock of the continent because of you because you had to be a Sirenborn. So you will produce an heir if you truly wish to be my son.” 

Lyra nods numbly, fighting the urge to snarl and scream at her father, to tell him just how she feels. She draws a steady breath and forces down her fury.

A quivering maid hastily sets down a plate of steaming hams and roasted chicken legs, before scurrying off. 

The king and his son don’t waste a moment and begin wolfing down the meat, but Caitryn just takes a few tiny bites out of a salted salad and a roasted, scarlet apple. 

“These flamed root apples are delicious,” She peers at her sister and raises a slim eyebrow. “Doriaaan?” She sings, “Why aren’t you eating?”

Lyra clutches her stomach, a scorching, otherworldly feeling ruining her appetite. 

“One of my betrayals, it randomly takes away my appetite remember? More like kills it…”

Caitryn’s eyes lit up, “I remember now! I believe you got that particular flavor of magical backlash when you stopped a flood last year.”

“Aye,” Lyra mumbles. “I still think it was worth it though,” Her eyes sparkle, just for a moment. “I saved so many!”

Her sister shrugs at her words then turns to the king. 

“Father? I think you’ll be pleased to hear I’ve got the king of the Sylvari kingdom wrapped around my little finger.” Caitryn smiles maliciously, revealing sharp, fang-like canines, not unlike the fangs seen on the dragons of old. 

“Excellent work, my daughter. So he is completely under your control?”

“Like a puppet on a string.” She chuckles, lightly licking her lips. “I have yet to receive his child, however, and I’m not sure I will. He’s rather old. As for the other task you set me on...everything is going as you desire.” 

The king grins wickedly and chortles. “Well done.” He strokes his daughter’s cheek. “Very well done indeed. I’m proud of you. You should learn from your twin sister, Dorian.”

Lyra’s face is clouded by sadness, and her eyelids droop, she hangs her head, waiting for the dinner to end. Caitryn’s face, however, lights up like a dawning sun. 

“Lochaine, how’s the army?” The king asks, turning his burning gaze to his son.

The prince hastily swallows and clears his throat. “They’re war-ready, father. I just need to work the recruits into shape and see to it the non-Flameborn fabled are put to use. Though I do believe we could use new siege equipment, perhaps the Sylvari kingdom can remedy this?”

Lochaine eyes Caitryn expectedly, but she frowns. “Siege equipment? You expect me to provide you with new toys to play with without tipping off our enemies? No. If you want it done subtly I suggest visiting the Lisari empire, dear brother.” 

He grunts, and folds his arms. “I hate paying their entry and departure taxes. And these Lisari folks are too greedy, always overpricing their wares...their women aren’t bad, however. But I must say...I’d love to get my hands on a few of their ironguard, I’ve heard these mechanical soldiers can cut apart even the finest steel with their blades, as if by magic.” 

He strokes his chin, as if deep in thought. “I’ll consider it.” 

“Try not to dawdle in the empire son, it’s a place unworthy of you. I’ve received reports of disappearances, it seems even high-class nobility isn’t safe there. Not to mention it’s a shithole. However, Caitryn?”

His daughter looks at him intently, a sweet, cheerful smile gracing her face. “Yes, dad?”

“When the time comes I expect you to ensure we receive the military support of the Greenheart kingdom. Those humongous dire wolves and tamed animals, giants, and their gargantuan living, breathing trees will prove invaluable. Not to mention the aid of the dryads, they’ll be quite helpful for navigating the wilds of the other kingdom. Perhaps they would even be willing to heal our forces or spread a magical plague or two.”

Caitryn nods, a malicious smile twisting her lips. “Leave it to me, father. I will see to it when the time is right all the might of the Sylvari will stand with you.”

Gregori returns her nod, finishes his wine in a big gulp, then slams down his goblet. 

“Maid! Fill my cup.” A raggedy serving girl shakily refills the king’s cup, before hastily curtsying and running off. 

“I’ll try to make haste, father.” Lochaine flashes his father a small smile, unlike his sister, his teeth are normal.

The king curtly nods, before waving his hand dismissively. “Good, you’re all dismissed.”

Lyra can’t get up fast enough, she nearly breaks into a sprint on her way back but just manages to contain herself. 

She storms through the door and slams it behind her. 

“That bad huh?” Miri pipes, locking the door with a key stuck on her belt. 

“Aye.” Lyra carefully slams her palm against the mirror. “Seven gods...I need to be myself right now...even if I feel like shite tomorrow when I turn back.” 

The princess is enveloped in a shimmering violet gleam, until it instantly fades away, revealing her true self. 

Lyra exhales a deep breath and wipes away a rogue tear. 

“Milady?” 

“I’m fine, now...I’m fine now.” She twirls her hair, then jumps on her bed. 

Miri scratches her honey blonde hair. “If you say so, milady. I’ll fetch your sleeping gown.” 

She runs over to her closet and grabs a simple nightgown. 

“Here ya go.” The maid tosses the gown on the bed, then she pokes Lyra’s cheek. “Are you gonna get up, or what?” 

Lyra shakes her head, burying her face In her pillow. “No. Pillow comfy.” 

Miri rolls her eyes, “So you’re just gonna lay there, like a pillow princess?” 

She nods, then jolts back up. “I am not a pillow princess!” 

“Exactly! Glad we got that cleared up. So who’s gonna be little spoon? After you’ve changed into your nighties.” 

Lyra groans, but changes into her nightclothes. “Rock, paper, scissors?” She asks, her tone casual and light. 

Miri’s lips curl into a playful grin. “Sure thing.” 

Rock, paper, scissors!” The girls both hold out two fingers. 

“Shoot,” Lyra mumbles. “Rock, paper, scissors!”

Miri stifles a giggle, both girls were holding out two fingers again.

“I’m gonna switch this time.” The princess pouts, but Miri only smiles knowingly. “Oh yea, me too.” 

“Rock-paper-scissors!” Lyra grunts and lightly stomps her foot. “Stop using scissors!” 

Miri shakes her head, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Not gonna happen.” 

“Fine. I’ll stop using it then. Rock, paper, scissors!” Her eyes widen as she gawks at the two pairs of fingers out. “Stop scissoring me!” 

Miri cackles evilly. “Never!” 

The princess pouts fiercely. “You’re going to lose!” 

“Rock, paper, scissors!” Lyra sighs, her eyes darting between her flat hand and Miri’s two fingers. 

“Snip!” She chirps, miming cutting paper. “I win!” 

“Today, at least. Dammit I should’ve known...why do you always go for scissors?” 

She shrugs her shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “I just like scissoring I guess.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense, you’re not even a tailor.” 

Miri lays her hand on Lyra’s shoulder, furrowing her brows in a mock-serious frown. “You’ll understand someday. Now jump in bed! I know you’re tired.” 

The girls jumped in bed, and she snuggles against Miri, breathing a sigh of relief and feeling her heartbeat steady already. 

“Miri?”

“Yes, milady?”

Lyra looks into her autumn brown eyes, sparkling from the candlelight. 

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

“Aye. Always.” Miri tenderly strokes her hair. 

“Even when?…don’t lie to me. Please don’t..”

Miri furrows her brows and shakes her head. “I’m not lying. I think you’re always beautiful. And I’ve always felt this way. I like girls, remember? And you’re a girl. No matter what!”

Lyra sniffs, her eyes glistening with tears. “Thank you.” She whispers.

Miri kisses her cheek and dries away the princess’s tears. “My pleasure, milady.” 

“You don’t have to always call me by my title, Lyra’s fine if that’s okay?”

Miri giggles, resting letting Lyra rest her head on her shoulder. “I know, but it makes you happy. And that makes me happy! But most importantly, it makes you feel better. I know it’s…hard, to constantly go back to being something you’re not. So I just wanna...I dunno, remind you of who you are? Does that make any...Am I making sense?”

Lyra wipes the tears from her lashes and beams at her. “Aye, to me at least!” She chuckles and embraces her. “I love you.”

Miri returns her smile with a passionate kiss, and embraces her tightly. “I love you too, milady. Now shhh, please rest. You’ll need your strength for tomorrow.” 

Lyra nods, and her eyes flutter shut, as she drifts off to sleep, dreaming of adventure.