Lyra

“Conquer the monster in your heart and you’ll fly higher than you ever thought you could.”-A Guide To Life And Demons, chapter 6. 

Lyra paces back and forth through the halls, her eyes constantly darting to the door of her room. What were they talking about in there? She bit her lip, she thought she knew everything about her maid, she was fairly certain Miri knew everything about her at any rate.

The door daintily swings open, and Dawn steps outside, a prideful grin on her lips. “Highness,” She elegantly takes the edges of her dress and bows, but only slightly. “I will be in my room should you...need me. Your little maid wishes to speak with you, however.” 

Before Lyra could react she was already striding away. “Lyra,” Miri squeaks. “Come inside please.” 

The princess rushes inside without a moment’s thought and instantly shuts the door behind her. To her surprise Miri had her back turned, eyes firmly stuck to the floor. 

“I heard you…have to bed with her?” 

Lyra’s eyes were dull with sadness, her voice, thick with tears. 

“Aye…” 

Miri breathes out a sharp, sullen sigh. “Why can’t your arse of a brother do it?”

“Father says he’s...busy…”

Her maid snorts then laughs mirthlessly. “Right. Or he has trouble getting it up. Imagine that, Lochaine, the prince of banging whores has a problem with that! Would be fitting though…” 

Lyra gawks at her reflection. “Or he just wants me to prove myself. All I’ve ever done is charm a few nobles and royals. And that was just...I don’t know, it’s easy to charm people if you don’t give a rat’s arse about how they think of you.”

“I’m going to pretend that didn't make any sense.” 

Lyra briefly chuckles to herself, still, the sorrow in her eyes never left her.

“Milady?” Slowly, she turns around. Lyra takes just a short look at her face before she runs over and embraces her. 

Miri quietly returns her embrace, she doesn't make a sound as tears fall from her puffy red eyes and drip down her chin. 

“I’m here, I’ll always be here.” 

Miri snorts and accidentally shoots a bit of snot from her nostrils. “Piss…” 

Lyra instinctively takes a small tissue and dabs at her nose. “It’s nothing to worry about.” 

“Isn’t it…” her eyelids droop as she stares at the floor. “I’m sorry this is…new for me.”

The princess gently rubs her back and strokes her golden hair. “I get it.” 

Miri barely stops herself from snarling. “You don’t. You’ve always been emotional and good at...sharing, all the bloody time! Me...would you believe me if I said I was a stone-cold bitch once? Didn’t have that much empathy.” 

Lyra’s brows snapped together. “What? Why in the burning hell would you say that? You’re one of the nicest people I know.” 

“Because it’s true.” She whispers, not loud enough for anyone to hear. “I still struggle with it...sometimes.” 

She squeezes her eyes shut, and speaks up. “I’m too vindictive.” 

Lyra blinks and stares into her teary girlfriend’s face. “I’ve never known you as...vengeful.”

Miri jerks free of their hug, and forcefully wipes away any traces of sorrow, only making her eyes redder in the process. “I’ve had enough of talking about this shite.”

“Please...you can tell me anything.” 

“I said ENOUGH!” Miri seethes, her breathing quickening. 

Lyra’s lips part at her sudden outburst, she couldn’t remember the last time she shouted at her like this or anyone for that matter. 

“Okay…” Her voice was as soft as snow. 

Miri sighs, and crosses her arms. She peers at Lyra’s mirror for what seems like an eternity, brows furrowed in a thoughtful frown. Then finally, she looks over her shoulder at Lyra, a willful fire in her eyes.

“I have a favor to ask.”

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Lyra bursts through her door, bumping right into Dawn. “Oh, forgive me.” Dawn breathed.

“The fault is mine.” Lyra’s mouth quirks into an awkward smile as she recovers. 

Miri discreetly walks out of the shadows of the princess’s room, her expression dulled with anxiety and a hint of guilt lurking in her eyes. “Are you sure?” Miri softly whispers. 

Lyra winks at her. “Very.” She sways over to her and pecks her cheek. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry.” 

Dawn’s face twists into an envious scowl. “Are you two done, here? I was growing impatient, I still am. I would like to get these affairs over with.”

Lyra rolls her eyes at the impatient princess, and Miri exhales a soft sigh. 

“Fine, fine. You don’t need to be a brat about it, Dawn. I don’t like this either, you know?”

Dawn raises her eyebrows at Lyra then folds her arms as she frowns. “Very well. Shall we proceed, your majesty?” 

Lyra’s hands' fumble in the air, her eyes widen slightly when she realizes she doesn’t have a dress to curtsy with, but still, she bows with a noble grace. She takes Dawn’s hand and leads them away. 

“Stupid idiot...” Miri mutters under her breath. 

With slumped shoulders and a resigned sadness in her eyes, Miri moves to close the door, until a large armored hand firmly slams on it, holding the door in place. 

Caitryn giggles. “Well hello! Fancy seeing you here, wench.” 

Caitryn’s words hit Miri like a hot wave of anger during a Cinderstorm, dull but aggravating. Miri looks down at the sneering fire princess and clenches her teeth. “What do you want, highness?” 

“Such a nasty tone for a maid; You’re not even intimidated by my guards? I’m disappointed.” 

The maid shakes her head. “You should’ve brought an entourage of cute girls. That would’ve intimated me.”

Caitryn tilts her head. “Noted, I suppose. Where is my…” with the awareness of the room, and a quick giddy giggle, she curls her lips into a devilish grin. “Sister?” 

“Sister?” Miri blurts, her eyes large and dilated. 

“Aye. My cute little baby sister. Surely not my baby brother eh?”

Miri’s face drains of color on the spot. “I…” She takes a few steps back. “I um…”

Caitryn clicks her fingers. “Hold her.” 

The guards don’t delay and rough arms seize Miri, slamming her back against a wall without hesitation. She squeaks in pain with a hung head, trying to collect her breath. 

“Go on, I’m not feeling very patient today” She draws a beautiful slender silver dagger from her belt adorned with pure blood-red rubies as she speaks, brandishing it like both a dangerous weapon and an illustrious symbol of power to behold.

She holds the knife at her throat and her eyes gleam with malice. “Father said I could do with you as I please, so long as you don’t die! He’s so sweet.” 

Miri’s body shakes and heaves with fear, her heart racing so fast she was surprised it hadn’t skipped a few beats, yet.

“Please don’t cut me!!!” She wails. “Please!” 

Caitryn rolls her sea-blue eyes. “Calm down...just tell me where she...he…” she nonchalantly waves her dagger around. “Whichever one...just tell me where my sibling is. Unless you’re afraid of a little blood?”

Her body goes cold with dread, her voice was sickeningly sweet but twisted. Like poisoned honey. 

“Less crying, more talking!” She chirps. 

“I saw someone looking like Dorian with princess Dawn!” Miri shouts, her mouth still open in a silent scream. 

Caitryn grunts and rolls her eyes. “Really? They’re fucking? Now? What she couldn’t seduce that light-whore a little faster? I’ve seen her wrap nobility and royalty alike around her finger almost as well as I, never truly better of course...but still.” 

She lowers her knife and lets out a harsh breath. “How annoying!” 

She glances at Miri and quirks a slim eyebrow. “I don’t suppose you know when they’re done?”

The quivering maid gingerly shakes her head. 

“Fine. Fine!” She impatiently taps her foot. “We’ll go to father.” The princess snaps her fingers and the men release Miri without a moment’s notice, letting her fall on the ground. 

“Up you go! I don’t have all day.” Caitryn snarls, touching Miri’s chin with the tip of her knife.

With ragged breaths and a face pale like snow she carefully gets on her feet.

“That’s a good lassie!” Caitryn sheaths her dagger and skips off, an eerily gleeful smirk contorting her lips. 

                                                                                                             ****

Caitryn opens the throne room doors with a graceful flourish, and curtsies in front of her father. “Father, it would appear that uh, oh forget it….that Dorian is currently bedding the Estellian princess. So I have brought...Miri!” 

The king raises a trimmed, but large eyebrow. “His maid?”

“Aye. That’s it.” 

Gregori’s eyes drill into Miri’s, and she pales at his gaze. 

“And why is that, Caitryn?” 

The princess shrugs her shoulders. “I thought maybe you could have some fun with her or something, Dorian will surely come for her. So you needn’t worry about…” She glances at the king’s face. “…him running away.” 

Gregori laughs boisterously. “A good idea, my daughter. Be on your way, now.” 

Caitryn curtsies once again, and sways out of the throne room with a cocky, I’m-daddy’s-favorite-now-grin.

He beckons her with a curling finger, and she timidly meanders to the king. 

“Yes, my lord? How may I serve?”

Gregori looks her up and down, and scoffs. “You’re awfully tall. Still, I could use that.” 

He turns and strolls away. “I have an old war wound on my back, you will tend to it.”

“I-I’m no healer!” She sputters. “-My lord.” Miri hastily adds. 

“You need only wash it, maid. There is a battle coming. It must be tended.”

Miri gulps and nods sheepishly. “Aye, highness. As you say.”

                                                                                                             ****

Gregori unfastens his crimson, fur-lined cloak and lets it fall to the ground. “There is no need for you to undress me, I will do it myself.”

Miri casts her eyes heavenward and mouths a small ‘thank you. “I have prepared a bath for you, highness.” 

“No need. Just use a washing cloth.” 

Her eye twitches. “Okay, your majesty.” 

Miri softly traces the washing cloth down the king’s back and squeaks when he winces. “Don't be frightened, girl.” He chides. “It’s nothing.” He stares out of a simple, but elegantly decorated window. “There will be a battle soon. It brings me great joy to know that my son has come through for the sake of the Ashen Kingdom at last. I knew he’d do the right thing, even if I had to butter him up.” 

She stops and grits her teeth. “My lord?” She asks sweetly.

“I gave him some words of encouragement. I have to admit I was...enraged when I heard he’s abusing his powers to take the shape of the fairer sex. Why he would even contemplate such a thing is beyond me. But as he will likely perish in the upcoming war, I will find a way to forgive his sins.”

Miri’s lips twitch, her eyes igniting with a fiery rage. “You...wish for my master to die?”

“Not necessarily.” 

“I see.”

The king sighs, as if exasperated. “He has served his purpose. And truth be told Cintra would be better off with him dead. The poor boy is deranged, and his nature has led to many whispers and snickers at royal parties and assemblies. But still, he is my son. I would prefer it if he could see the right path and shake off those foolish desires. But the boy will need to be punished, a few nights in jail until the battle will do. Though I am not excluding the Furyfalls, he needs to be taught a lesson.”

“I think I understand, my lord,” Miri replied, still using a feathery tone. “I understand perfectly.”

She carelessly tosses the cloth into the bathtub. “All done! Now if you’ll excuse me. I’m on my Sanguia and I have to use the toilet.”

“Of course.” The king simply continues to stare out of the window, too busy brooding to apparently care about anything else.

Miri wrinkles her nose, lips twisting into an angry sneer. 

She shuts the door behind her and tries running off, but a force pulls her back by her hair. “What in the ashes?” She looks over her shoulder and rolls her eyes. “Of course...” Her long golden hair was stuck in the door. Miri soundlessly freed her hair and heads back to her quarters. 

“Figures my hair would get stuck…” She mutters under her breath.

As she leisurely strolls down the halls, her fury begins to give way to sadness. Her shoulders limp, and her posture wilts. 

“Why is he so awful?” She whispers, covering her face with her hands as she quietly weeps.

“Are you calling my father awful? How rude!” Caitryn growls. Miri gasps and breaks into a sprint, but to her dismay, a strong hand grabs her hair from behind and pulls her back. 

“Lemme go!!!” She howls, thrashing and clawing around her. 

“Oh shut your pretty little mouth. If all goes well you won’t have to stay this way for very long, your master is already on…ASHES!! This gender nonsense is making me mad. You won’t like me when I’m mad.” Caitryn giggles and licks her teeth. “Nobody does.” 

“She’s right you know.” Lochaine laughs, stepping out of the shadows, his cool polished blade resting on his shoulder. “Turns into a right demon, I reckon.”

The prince moves to grab Miri’s chin, but she manages to dash away just in time. “Please...don’t kiss me!” She pleads, eyes wide and bile rising in her throat. 

Caitryn grabs her brother's arm. “She is gay, you know. Find some other wench to satisfy your needs.” 

Lochaine rolls his eyes and jerks his arm free. “Whatever, I suppose that’s fine.”

Miri releases a tiny sigh of relief, and massages her temples. “Fucking hell...that didn’t just happen.” She whispers.

The king’s door swings open, and Gregori marches outside, his expression dark and foreboding. “Lochaine, I trust you’ve sent a messaging boy to your brother?”

“I have, father.”

“Very well. Let us be on our way to the Sintel chapel.”

The sibling's faces turn grim, and Caitryn fiddles with her dagger. “They’re here?”

Gregori sets his jaw. “Indeed.” His eyes burn with an intense fire, and a distinct madness. The madness of war, or surviving one, rather. 

“The air is humid and misty, the sky has turned grey, and I heard distant thunderstorms despite the time of year. They are here, sooner than expected.” His gaze settles on a shivering guard, the poor boy looking as if he’s about to vomit. “Sound the warning bells.”

“Aye, my lord.” The boy bows, and runs off, nearly tripping over his own feet a few times. 

“You, maid.” The king booms, not bothering to even glance at her. “You will stay. If only to ensure he does not run.”

“Aye. Highness.” Miri replies in a hushed voice, eying the still clean floor, for now.

As the royal family begins their walk, loud, bleak bells toll through the hall. They chime four times before repeating, each. The miserable warning sound of an invading army. 

When they pass through the halls, Miri observes the faces of hurrying servants and soldiers, each and every one of their faces stuck in a look of horror, and anxiety. 

There isn’t a Cirrian alive who doesn’t know what the four bells mean, especially as the last war and its horrors are still fresh in the minds of many.

Miri walks past a soldier boy, and a veteran, both paralyzed by fear. 

“FORCES APPROACHING! TO ARMS!” A young, but brave voice echoes through the hall, and its words take both the boy and the veteran into a vomiting spree. Miri’s heart aches as she’s forced to just walk past them, without a chance to help.

They reach the Sintel chapel and Miri squeals in fear at a loud clanking sound. Her neck snaps to the sound and her posture relaxes. It was just a maid who accidentally spilled a jug of water. 

“Leave it, Kenna!” A girlish, but mature voice nearly shouts. “We’ve gotta get out of the castle!” The maids scurry off, leaving a rather large pool of wasted water on the ground.

The king’s voice breaks her haze. “Everyone inside, we must begin our prayers as soon as Dorian arrives.” 

The group enters the shadowy chapel, only illuminated by soft, yet strong candlelights. It was decorated with murals of a gargantuan dragon, depicted doing various things, both good and bad. From shielding a village from a rain of molten rock to seemingly burning down kingdoms, and protecting whole hordes of children, and finally, the mural in the center depicts the dragon turning to ashes in a heroic pose, its remains pouring into a beautiful golden urn. 

The king steps in front of a large, smooth, stone-carved replica of the dragon, its wings spanning wide and its maws open as if roaring. And he bows deeply. 

Then, as if on cue, Lyra bursts through the door, breathing heavily as if she’d just ran a great distance. “Sorry, I’m late!” She chirps. “I was comforting some rather frightened-“

“It matters not, boy.” The king interrupts. “Come, we shall receive the dragon’s blessing for the upcoming battle.” 

He beckons them with his hand. “Lochaine, you are the eldest, stand at the center. Caitryn, you are the youngest, stand at the left-wing.” His children obey him without a second thought. 

All eyes fall on Lyra, and her heart skips a beat. 

“Dorian. Stand at the right-wing.” Lyra and Miri share a petrified look, but Miri nods at her as if giving permission. 

Lyra draws an encouraging breath and steps in front of the right wing.

But nothing happens. Save for a distant rumbling sound, and the chapel lightly shakes a few moments later, faint traces of sand trickling down the ceiling. 

“They’ve begun.” The king murmurs. His piercing eyes gaze at Lyra, and his composed expression cracks, showing signs of mad rage. “Why is the great dragon not bestowing its blessing? It has sworn to do so if enough of his descendants, my children, stand at its scared shrine.” 

Lyra’s breathing quickens, and she nervously scratches her face. 

Miri sighs, and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Alright…fine.” She whispers. 

The maid saunters over to Caitryn, and holds out her hand. “Your mirror.” 

Caitryn snorts then breaks into mocking laughter. “As if! This isn’t the time for you to powder your nose, serving girl. And I never give anyone anything of mine if I can help it.”

Miri’s eyes blaze with an undaunted, inviolable fire. She straightens her back, standing much taller than the fire princess. “Your mirror. Now, Caitryn.” 

She blinks, casting her eyes at her father and brother, neither of them speaking a word.

Caitryn scoffs, and hands over her compact mirror with a vicious scowl. 

Miri strides over to Lyra, and gives her a loving, appreciative smile. “It’s okay, it’ll be alright.” Miri strokes her cheek and embraces her. “Thank you.” 

 Lyra wipes a rogue tear from her thick lashes and steps aside. 

Miri gawks at the dragon’s imposing wing. She takes an almost overly long, determined breath, and steps in front of it. 

The dragon’s eyes shine a Crimson red light, and the Children Of Fire glow in a similar radiance. A primal, deafening roar echoes through the castle’s halls. The dragon god has bestowed its blessing, enhancing their magical powers. 

Lyra opens Caitryn compact mirror, she waves her fingers to lay a few droplets on it but the violet light already engulfs her in a brief flash, revealing her true self. 

She flicks back her fiery tresses. “Well, that’s a handy thing.” Her flaming Crystal blue eyes meet Caitryn’s. “I think I’ll keep it.” She holds the mirror to Miri and snaps her fingers, and moments later the real Miri awkwardly stands there, scratching her hair. 

“And in case you were wondering, no. They didn’t sleep with each other either.” 

The king’s glare burns as hot as an erupting volcano. “You dare defy me?! You DARE trick your king? And you dare...to refuse to procure an heir, you are a prince! A boy, and my son. No matter what form you choose to wear with your disgusting Sirenborn magic.”

“That isn’t my name.” Lyra calmly replies. “And I am not your son or your boy. After all I’ve heard, after all I’ve had to go through over the years I’m fucking done with playing pretend for your sake. I am a Daughter Of Fire. My name is Lyra of house Roarin, and I am a fucking girl.” She cocks her head. “Better get fucking used to it.”

SnowRosie

For anybody who’s read chapters 3-4 before the 21st of March 2021, I’ve rewritten the last part of chapter 3 and most of chapter 4 cus I was really unhappy with them>.< it would mean a lot to me if you could give the rewritten chapters a shot! I wanna add that the character and plot stuff I’ve removed won’t stay gone, it’ll just come back in a later chapter. I hope you guys like my story so far:3 Have a nice weekend/week everyone!?