Lyra

“Life isn’t fair, it’s full of hardships and cruelty. But love? Love finds a way to light a blaze through even the darkest times in your life. Hold onto your heart, and you will pull through.”- Runia, Princess of the Fae and Queen of Flame.

An obnoxious knocking sound rings in Lyra’s ears, and her eyes shoot open. She groans and reluctantly gets up from her bed. 

“Fine…” She lightly clears her throat. “Who’s there?” She shakes out her bed-hair and glances at the snoozing Miri, “Sleepyhead.” She giggles. “Hey, wa-“

“-Who the blazes are you? I need my fool of a brother!” Caitryn’s muffled voice yells through the door. 

Lyra pinches her nose and lets out another groan. “My…” her eyes widen, and she bites her lip. “Sorry, Miri.” She mumbles under her breath. 

“My master isn’t here, your highness.” Miri’s voice answers. 

Caitryn scowls, and kicks the door. “Then find him you useless wench! I need him to make me another potion and refill my lotion before the princess gets here! Ashes, I’m going to rip his throat out.” 

“I’ll be sure to do that.” Lyra rolls her eyes. 

The scowling princess huffs, then fixes her hair and storms off. “I’ll find the puddle prince myself!” She shouts, a vicious grin growing on her lips. “There’s no hiding from me, baby brother.” 

Caitryn giggles to herself, and skips back to her room.

“Was that your witch-bitch of a sister, milady?” Miri quips, rubbing her eyes. 

Lyra nods with a thin-lipped smile. “Aye, I...do not need to deal with her shite right now. I hope you don’t mind I mimicked your voice to shake her off?”

She shrugs and yawns, stretching like a cat. “I already told ya, I don’t really care either way, you do you. As long as you don’t embarrass me.” She drops herself back on the bed. “Could you just get back in bed with me for five more minutes?”

The princess chuckles and sighs wistfully. “I wish I could, but I’ve got to get ready for a royal visit. Aaaand help my sister...before she erupts and sends someone to the dungeons.” 

Miri crawls under the blankets. “But if you’re getting up, I have to get up! And I don’t wanna, I’m feeling a little cold too…” 

Lyra tilts her head. “Should I get you more blankets?” 

“No, I’m asking you to snuggle with me, silly girl!”

“Oh…” Her face turns as red as freshly picked Chiri cherries. “Well…” She fidgets with her hair. “Um…”

Miri bursts into giggles. “I don’t need to see your face to know you’re blushing!” She sings. 

“Fine, snuggles later!” Miri leaps from the bed. “Work first, eh?” She kisses her cheek. “I’ll ready a bath for you, m’lady; If you want one.”

Lyra gives her a thoughtful frown, then solemnly shakes her head. “I’d really like one but I doubt I’ve got the time for it.” 

Miri soothingly rubs her arm. “If it makes you feel any better milady, I can brush your hair tonight.” 

The princess smiles softly, but sadness lurks in her eyes. “Thank you.” 

Her maid helps her change into a simple yet ornately decorated red tunic, the dragon symbol on its chest matching the crest of her house. Then she steps in front of the mirror, her body trembling with anxiety. 

“How long will I have to keep doing this? Shape-changing back and forth…why can’t I just be me?” She whispers, her eyes glistening with tears. 

Miri hugs her closely, stroking her hair. “I don’t know, my princess. But I believe that someday everyone will see you for you really are, like I do.” 

Lyra snorts. “Even my family?” 

“Who knows. And if they don’t, fuck them!” 

The princess giggles, and draws a steady breath. “Aye, you’re right I suppose...anyway, thank you, Miri.” 

Miri gives her a cheeky wink, ruffling her hair. 

Lyra steps forward and gazes at the mirror. “Once more, into the fire and flame.” 

The mirror hums a low sound and coats her in dull violet light. 

She turns on her heel and departs, without saying a word. Miri’s lips curl into a sad smile, before she starts to work on changing the bed’s sheets. 

Elsewhere, a girl’s giggles echo through the halls, surprising the servants, though many still weren’t even fazed, and carried on as if nothing ever happened.

                                                                                                              ****

Lyra plucks a red, rusty-looking petal from a breathtakingly beautiful rose, faint wisps of incense gently flowing up from its petals.

“Just what I need for the finishing touch, a petal from the Tine Álainn flower.” She hums a cheerful tune, enjoying the rose’s lovely, soothing scent. 

She lays the petal in the bowl ceremoniously, pouring a cup of water on the relaxed Tine Álainn. She then took to grinding the Tine Álainn into dust within her mortar. “Perfect! I’m glad we have our own garden of Tine Álainn flowers here, it’s such a pain they only grow in Cinder’s Vale down south. Long live Sylvarish soil I suppose…” She mumbles, then her brows snap together. 

“I’m talking to myself aren’t I?” Her frown deepens. “Ashes, I’m still doing it!” She clasps a hand over her mouth, and looks around her, then breathes the tiniest sigh of relief.

Lyra fills two potion bottles with the bowl’s contents, and shakes them around a little. “Hmm. Forgot to add a thorn from the flower.” 

She carefully tries cutting away a thorn from the flower, then winces as she accidentally cuts herself. 

“Cac!” She swears, watching as a drop of scarlet blood hits the ground, and lights up in a flare of violet fire. 

“Ugh.” She pouts, stepping on the little flame, eventually putting it out. “So dramatic.” 

She checks if the fire is gone, before walking away with a forlorn sigh. 

Lyra knocks on her sister’s door, and it flies open, revealing Caitryn’s face. 

“Well, hello. Whatever took you so long? Why weren’t you in your quarters? All I found was two serving wenches.”

Lyra forces a smile on her face “They’re not serving wenches Caitryn...and who knows really? I was just in the gardens. The grass is really soft in the summer. Softer than some pillows if you can believe that.” 

Caitryn cocks her head, narrowing her eyes. “You sound like a peasant. And I swore I looked there...are you trying to lie to me, baby brother? You know that’s pointless. Even if you’re suspiciously good at it.” 

Her lips twist into a mocking smile, and she takes a small step closer.

“I always know, like a song that’s suddenly out of tune, I can always hear when you’re lying. It’s in my starry blood, if you will.” 

She blinks and stares at her blankly, anger blossoming in her heart. “Aye I know. Do you want the potions or not?” 

The sneering princess smirks and grabs the potions out of her hands. “Thanks. I’ll need more when my sanguia starts. Don’t be late.” 

Lyra nods numbly before she catches a faint glimmer in the corner of her eye. “Is that...a scrying bowl? You’re not...”

Caitryn wrinkles her nose and crosses her arms. “No, it’s for alchemy dummy, specifically for mixing potions.” Fury flashes across her face. “I do dabble you know, I hate being dependent on you, puddle prince. or the master alchemist for that matter, he’s gross.” 

“Right, please don’t call me that though…please.” 

The brunette looks into her sister’s eyes, and her face softens. “Fine. I understand.” 

Her face lights up, and her eyes twinkle with joy. “Thank you.” 

Caitryn rolls her eyes, “Yea, yea...just don’t be late with my sanguia potions, or I’ll make you pay, I swear. Don’t think I don’t know your secrets…”

Lyra’s face falls, and her smile fades. “Of course, I won’t be late. You don’t need to threaten me...I get it.” 

“No, you don’t!” She hisses. “And you never will, ever. So don’t try.” Caitryn slams the door in her face. 

“My secrets...I’m sure you think you know them, but you don’t really...though I almost wish you did.”

Lyra stifles a sob, but she fails to stop the next. Tears flow freely down her face until she feels a gentle hand; a friendly touch, drying her cheeks with a handkerchief. 

“Miri.” She whispers. 

“Hi, milady. I heard shouting.” 

The Fire Princess falls into the willowy girl’s arms and sobs into her chest. “It’s alright, let it all out.” 

She lays a gentle kiss on Lyra’s forehead and strokes her head as she cries. “She said I’ll never understand her pain when she’s having her Sanguia. She’s right isn’t she…”

Low, guttural laughter rings in their ears. “Gods...are you done? I need a word with you, Dorian.”

Lochaine grabs Miri by her hair and pushes her aside. “That hurt you sick-prick!” 

“Don’t whine, maid. Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”

In a blink Lyra steps between them, despite the tears falling down her face, her eyes blaze with fury. 

“Piss off. Apologize to Miri, and then fuck off to whatever hole you crawled out of. If you’re going to hurt anyone, hurt me.” 

A mixture of shock and surprise falls over Lochaine’s face. “Well, well. Didn’t know you had it in you, puddle prince.” 

She cocks her head. “You know, you keep flinging the same insults at me. How unimaginative of you, not that I’m very surprised.” 

The prince sets his jaw and stomps over to his sister with long, wide steps. “Why don’t you keep your mouth shut, you sound like a petty wench.”

Lyra smiles. “Why, thank you!” Miri snorts, before bursting into giggles. 

His cheeks turn ever so slightly red, and he pushes her aside, walking away. “Father’s in the gardens, he wants to see you.”

He mutters one last retort towards the women before him, “...Cowardly little girls.” 

“Says the boy walking away!” The princess fires back, her smile blossoming as she cheerfully waves him goodbye. 

“You’ve got quite the tongue on ya, milady.” Miri snickers, then curtsies. “I’ll go clean your quarters now. There are floors that need scrubbing.” 

Lyra releases a small, sonorous sigh, and furthermore makes her way back to the cinder gardens. 

She peers at her father’s back, at the embellished blood-red cloak adorning it, and grits her teeth, balling her quivering hands into fists.

A beam of light shines in her eyes, reflected off the king’s golden-red crown, basking in the midday sun. 

“Ah, there you are.” He turns around, his eyes boring into hers. “Don’t look so frightened, boy. Come,” 

Lyra slowly walks forward, and barely stops herself from flinching when the king puts his large, veiny hand on her shoulder. 

“Tell me, what do you see?” He gestures to the medieval city below, decorated with pearl white and scarlet red flags. 

“Our um...your...our kingdom?” 

“Yes. Our kingdom. One day, I will be dead. And this may, in fact, be yours. Lochaine may die in battle, or to an assassin. Though I find it unlikely an assassin will end him, but in any case then the burden of the ruling will fall to you. But you are weak. And singular in your power, you are no Twiceborn. So, for the sake of the ashen kingdom, procure an heir. Whatever it takes.” 

He steers her away from the view and began strolling through the gardens. “Walk with me.”

The princess gulps, and begrudgingly follows her father. 

“Have I ever told you the story of your mother? How she ran away?”

Lyra shakes her head, her chin trembling.

“It was many years ago, I suppose you were too young to remember this, but after fighting her way through so many loyal soldiers, she ran off to this far away magical forest. It took months but I finally found her after having Sylvarish bloodhounds track her scent, and soon enough we found her in a small cabin, weeping. She claimed she’d lost her child. I’m quite certain she had grown mad. Perhaps a long time ago, or possibly a direct consequence of her escape, Faeborn betrayals can be quite destructive to the mind. She must’ve forgotten that sometimes it takes a while before betrayals set in, tricking anyone reckless enough into pushing themselves too far, she should’ve known better, a foolish error of judgement on her part.

Her breathing subtly turns erratic, and she quickly takes her mind elsewhere, imagining spending time with Miri, singing and dancing the night away.

“Focus, son.” He snaps his fingers. “I’m just getting to the important part. As I said she’d gone insane. Muttering to herself how she lost her child, over and over. I always knew she was a fragile and weak woman. But still, she managed to escape, even in her insanity…Fae trickery can be frustrating indeed...to this day I am wondering if someone helped her escape but I suppose I will never know. I let her go in the end as...I grew to pity her.” 

Gregori grabs her chin. “Do not be as your mother was, or you will end up as her, frail and broken. I want you to be stronger, better, smarter. I want you to be the prince I always believed you can be. Cintra needs an heir, Is that understood, son?”

Lyra numbly nods, tears pooling in her eyes. 

The king gives her a lopsided grin. “Good, very good. Make me proud. Despite appearances I...I do not despise you, but I do wish you were born differently. That you weren’t…Sirenborn. But despite how my temper might’ve made you feel, I do not hate you. Now go, she is here.” 

Lyra draws a steady breath, and strides to the main hall. 

“Hi there, your majesty.” Came a high, melodious, angelic voice, like the soft ringing of crystal bells. 

The princess looks up, into her eyes, and stifles a gasp. 

Princess dawn’s eyes were a gorgeous mixture of honey gold and light amber, and seemed to shine in the sunlight.

“Welcome to Pyria, my lady.”

Dawn grins and curtsies. “The honor is mine, prince Dorian.” 

Lyra winces and plasters a smile on her face. “May I please give you a tour?” 

She shakes her head in reply. “No need, I’ve been here before. But I would like to walk in your famed cinder gardens? And perhaps see your famed urn of sacred ashes, next dawn.”

“You’ve been here before? May I ask when that was?” 

“In another life.” Dawn smiles knowingly. “When we finish strolling the gardens, I would like to speak with your maid.” 

Lyra blinks, and tilts her head. “Miri? Why would you want to speak with her?”

“We used to...know each other, if you like. All I want is to merely wish to catch up with her, so to say.” 

The Fire Princess shrugs, and breathes out a sigh. “For someone who can’t lie you’re awfully good at dancing around the truth.”

Dawn’s smile falters, a fresh jolt of anger in her eyes. “Years of practice, I’m afraid...This betrayal came quite early.”

And just like that, her smile returns. “But enough standing around, shall we?”

Lyra flashes her a little smile of her own, and takes her hand. 

The ladies slowly stride to the gardens, and Dawn squeals in delight when she finally walks around the flowers and dances through the grass. 

“I’ve always loved hearing about this garden, is it true every flower here is always blossoming except in the winter?”

Lyra nods. “Aye, it’s thanks to imported Sylvarish soil, blessed by the matron dryad herself.” 

Her eyes misted over. “It was a...a gift, to my mother. She loved gardening.” 

Dawn walks over to her and takes her hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up a bad memory. We could leave the gardens, if you wish.” 

The Fire Princess lightly shakes her head, and kisses her hand. “It’s fine, your highness. I wouldn’t deny you the cinder gardens just because I have a painful memory.” 

Dawn studies Lyra’s face, then beams at her. “You’re kind, but I’ll live. Why don’t we go to your quarters?” 

She didn’t give her time to answer, as the sun princess already began walking away. 

Lyra opens her mouth to protest, but just sighs and runs to catch up to her. 

“You live opposite your sister’s room, no?”

“Yes, I do.” 

“Excellent, perhaps I’ll be lucky enough to see her as well. She’s the spitting image of her mother, very beautiful. More so than me, if you don’t mind me saying so.” 

She inches forward and rests a hand on dawn’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be modest! You’re gorgeous.” 

Dawn twirls a lock of mahogany brown hair, a bubbly smile gracing her lips. “Well, thank you.” 

Lyra bows graciously, and opens the door to her quarters. “Here we are.” 

The sun princess strides inside, and the corners of her lips quirk up in a sly smile. 

“Excuse me,” Miri pipes, not glancing up. “I’ve been trying very hard to scrub these floors prissy-clean! And these shoes,” she impatiently taps on Dawn’s shoes. “Are not, prissy clean! They don’t even match the tiles with all that dirt! You!” She accusingly points her finger at dawn’s face, still not looking up. “Should feel ashamed, missy!”

She pouts. “And I just cleaned that spot too.” Then Miri shrugs and starts scrubbing Dawn’s shoes. “Might as well clean these stupid shoes if you’re just gonna stand there like a statue, all mysterious and brooding. I take it your talk with your father the royal prick didn’t go very well…”

Lyra awkwardly clears her throat. “Uh, Miri?” 

“Yes milady, I’ll hurry up. I understand that there’s royalty coming yada yada…”

“Miri?...”

“I mean, it’s fineeee. I don’t mind,” She frowns, struggling to clean a very stubborn stain with her sponge.

“It’s part of my job! Cleaning quarters and scrubbing floors until they’re so clean you can eat from it, not that you should try...just trust me there. I’m just sulky because I had to get up from your silky bed and your gorgeous satin sheets and stop our cuddling to clean and scrub, scrub, scrub! For some niminy piminy royal with a gold stick up their-“

“Miri!” Lyra blurts, her cheeks turning red. 

“What? What in the hells has your panties in a twist?” Miri finally looks up. “Oh…”

Her eyes fall on princess dawn, and her eyes widen. “I…it’s...I’m…” 

She clumsily gets on her feet. “Hi! I mean, hail!..” Miri grimaces, her cheeks turning pink of embarrassment. “My apologies for my rude, strange behavior. I’ve...had much to drink last eve!”

The Astellian princess bursts into giggles. “No need to worry, Miri. I know what you’re like, don’t I?”

Dawn glances over her shoulder at Lyra. “She’s much nicer now. She was such a brat when I first met her…”

She brushes off her dress then sits on the luxurious bed as if she owns it, neatly crossing her legs. “Thank you, now please leave us if you do not mind. I mean no offense it’s just…” She flashes Miri a twisted smile. “This is between me…and her.”

Lyra blinks, she looks at Miri, who begrudgingly nods at her. “It’s fine, m’la-..i....highness. I’ll be alright.” 

She sighs, and slowly leaves the room, before closing the door, she catches a glimpse of the sadness lurking in Miri’s eyes just before the door is shut. 

                                                                                                               ****

Caitryn saunters over to her father’s throne, and bows deeply. “Father, I have news.” 

The king grins, and strokes his beard in anticipation. “Go on.”

“My scrying has been inconclusive, however, my clairvoyance is clear. The Lyrian army will be here in less than a fortnight, just a few days if they continue at their current speed. I am sad to say however, that their capital city, Aigéan remains highly fortified. A future where we attempt to take it this soon will not be ours.”

Gregori chuckles. “An inconvenience. But no matter, we will continue as planned. For centuries the Rain kingdom has outwitted us, their tacticians superior to ours. But no longer, we will vanquish them with their own tricks. And then the Rainlands of Kaeleigh shall burn.” 

Caitryn flashes her father a perky smile. “Of course. But, there is something you should know. About my baby…um,” She frowns, then shakes her head. “About Dorian.” 

His face hardens. “What of that boy?” 

She takes a small compact mirror, and gazes into it. “You recall this little trinket?”

The king nods. “It was a gift from prince Cullen of the rain kingdom. It’s made of crystallized waters from the fountain of Farraige.” 

“I know, but...I’ve discovered a little something about it. Oh if only that foolish prince knew just what he was giving me…just watch! I can shape-change as much as I want...without any water.”

She giggles, and a dim flash of cobalt blue light consumes her. 

Crystal blue eyes meet the king’s, and his expression darkens. 

“Hiya father,” Lyra’s voice giggles, and she runs her fingers through her fiery hair. “It seems my little brother wants to be my little sister.”