Lyra

“It takes courage to grow up, and become who you really are. Be yourself, no matter how loudly the world shouts you can’t be.”-Runaria, princess of the Fae.

“You’re no son of mine!” The king roars, his eyes shining with a sinister vermillion glow.

“Got that right.” Lyra beams, and Miri giggles jovially. 

Lochaine’s face twists with raw rage, and he steps in front of his father. “Why in the seven hells would you even want to be a girl? You’re crazy! You’re a crazy demented boy and if you weren’t a prince you’d be sleeping in the slums!”

“Awww, Lochaine! that hurts my feelings.” Lyra pouts, twirling a lock of hair. 

Caitryn can’t help but giggle at her retort. “Seven gods! You’re much less boring now. I approve.” She hops over to her sister and shows off her pearly teeth with a bubbly grin. 

“I’ve decided you’re my baby sis from now on! Much better than a boring baby brother eh? Gods you were so dull…”

Lyra shakes her head. “I’m your sister whether you want me to or not.”

Her sister’s smile contorts into a glare petrifying enough to rival a gorgon’s. “We’ll see about that. I’m quite a good Shape-Changer you know...I’d hate for you to get dull again.”

The redhead leans over to her ear. “Maybe, but I’m better, caity.” She straightens her back and rolls back her shoulders. “Years of practice.” 

“ENOUGH!” King Gregori seethes. The little candlelights shoot into the air like bonfires, impossibly stretching all the way to the chapel’s ceiling. 

“Enough.” The king sneers, his composure returning to him. “Lochaine.” He points his finger at Miri. “Kill his maid. That’ll teach the boy to know respect.” 

Miri blinks and furrows her brows as if she was just mildly annoyed. “Well, that’s just rude.”

“Aye!,” Lyra pipes, clenching her fists. “Very rude.” Her pupils radiate an iridescent sky blue color. 

Lochaine ignores their banter and draws his large, silvery blade. “I don't care. I am a loyal son! Unlike you!” He spits at her face and hits his mark. “A bhastaird!”

“Ooh!” Caitryn bursts into a fit of giggles. “Bitch-fight! I do believe the correct term would be ‘stripeach’, however. Not bastard. You know, bitch, whore…” She giggles again. 

Lochaine shakes his head. “Enough talking. Caitryn, are you with me?” 

The princess thoughtfully bites her lip, then dismissively waves her hand. “No. I’m good. I’d rather make myself useful elsewhere. Besides, I’m getting bored already. I do so hate boredom…”

Lochaine patiently waits for her to leave, then spits on the ground and charges the girls.

“Make me proud, son.” Gregori’s mouth screws into a cocky, triumphant grin, and he strolls off to lead his army against the invading force.

“I will, father!” His blade ignites and he starts his deadly dance with a flurry of sword slashes. 

Lyra dodges them all to push her girlfriend out the way. “Get outside Miri!” 

The willowy girl nods, dashing outside with Lyra at her heels.

Her eyes catch the glimmer of a puddle of water, and she subtly smiles. 

Lochaine’s eyes flash. A stream of flame reaches towards the ladies, but Lyra pulls her arms together to bend the water to form a shield of ice as the flames bash against the icy safeguard. 

“Miri, get behind me.” 

“Not a chance.” Miri retorts, drawing a small knife. “I won’t hide behind my girlfriend like a damsel in distress. I’m by your side until the end!”

The prince stomps up to them and swings down his fiery blade. 

Her icy shield shatters at its force, but she doesn’t waste a second casting the remains of ice and water to form crystalline gauntlets on her hands, catching the gargantuan sword with gritted teeth. 

“Give it all up! You’re Dorian Of Roarin, not the covet of this witch’s fantasy.” Lochaine’s tone was calm, but his face was crimson with fury. 

“My name is Lyra you arsehole!” She spits into his eye, guiding a sharp, tiny frozen icicle into his iris, but that just aggravates him further, and the force he applies to his blade grows.  

Miri spots the faintest trace of blood at Lyra’s frozen hands, she joins her girlfriend in holding back the sword, no matter how much it hurts her. 

For just a second they gain the upper hand. Lyra takes the opportunity to lightly kick her foot across the ground and sends a few small icy daggers flying at Lochaine’s arm from the puddle.

He grunts in pain and loses focus, using one of his hands to clutch his arm. 

Miri doesn’t waste the opportunity and releases one of her hands to slash his other arms with her knife.

“Bitch!” He growls, his grip loosening further.

The princess lets go of the blade and holds out two fingers. She points them at her enemy, and with lightning speed, she sends two small bits of water at his eyes and freezes them on impact. “I can’t see! Ashes what have you done to me?!” He shrieks and wails, wildly swinging his weapon around like a cornered animal. 

Before the girls get a chance to recover the castle shakes and rumbles to its core. Lyra’s eyes widen and she tackles Miri to the ground. 

Not even a breath later a colossally large hailstone smashes through the castle walls, and the Fire Prince crashes against the wall with a groan. 

Lochaine screams with pure, unbridled rage. The ice blinding him melts as he rises. 

“Fuck playing nice.” He lets his blade drop to the ground with a clanking noise and pops his knuckles. “We’ll settle this like men.”

He runs at the girls with breathtaking speed, his fists engulfed in dark, blood-red flames, their searing heat only enhanced by his vengeful rage.

Lyra waves her fingers then slams her palms against her legs, encasing them in sharp, jagged ice. She swings her legs at the charging madman, and he falls on his back. 

And yet, not even a second later he springs back up again and aims his fist at his sister. 

She dodges him by a hair’s length, and his attack leaves nothing but a smoldering hole in the concrete floor. 

He draws an impossibly long breath and exhales a relentless torrent of the inferno at the lasses. 

Lyra feels a tear streaking down her cheek, but she doesn’t waver. She throws her hands up and shakingly tries to force them to close. Her gesture creates cracks and openings in the hailstone, but it only lazily evaporates before their eyes, turning back into water far too slowly. 

As the flames close in, Miri hugs her girlfriend around her chest, resting her head on her shoulder one last time. She shuts her eyes, ready to die in her girlfriend’s embrace.

Lyra screams, blood trickling down her nostrils. But, she manages to close her hands. And the hailstone’s cracks grow until it bursts. She opens her palm and gestures at the enclosing inferno, the enchanted water flows through the dry, heated air and streams right into the sea of flames.

As the elemental forces meet, the water and fire alike detonate as a combined explosion.

Miri’s eyes spring to attention and she pulls her girlfriend back, saving them both from the magical blast. 

Lyra pulls Miri up and they sprint away from Lochaine holding back tears, hand in hand. “Are you with me?” Lyra yells as they run closer to the edge. 

“Always!” Miri shouts with a happy, carefree smile. 

The Fire Princess draws the remnants of water around her, forming a suite of elegant frosty armor. 

“Get back here!” The prince bellows, fire now covering all of his arms, his face a mask of pure, almost inhuman rage. 

The girls leap out of the castle, and Lyra holds Miri tightly as they fall. 

Their hearts skip a beat in unison, before they land on a racing hailstone with a heavy thud. 

Within seconds Lyra flips their positions and turns her armored back to the nearing castle walls, and slams her eyes shut for the upcoming impact. 

Miri’s lips tremble as they close in, riding the magical rock of ice, and her cheeks turn a deep scarlet from their airtight embrace. 

Not even a few heartbeats later they slam into the castle with a thundering, ear-shattering blast as the walls are blown to pieces. 

The hailstone slides across the ground, barely grazed, but Lyra’s armor was a different matter. It has cracks and broken pieces crumbling off it all over, and it even appears to melt in some places as if the magic inside it was fading away.

“Miri? Miri!” She squeals, drawing shallow breaths. 

“I’m fine! You can let go now!” 

Lyra madly gave her a once-over, searching for hidden injuries from the crash. 

Miri strokes the hysterical girl’s cheek. “I don’t mind you staring but I’m okay, I promise.”

“What?” Lyra asks, a crazed look still ruling her eyes.

“Lirie? Please, we’re okay.” She gently kisses her forehead, drawing her back into a hug. 

“I’m…I’m…” Lyra blinks, her breaths hastening and growing more and more shallow. 

“Lyra! Look at me.” Miri holds her head. “Look at me.” She says softly, “breathe.”

Lyra peers into her Autumn brown eyes, and slowly but surely, her breathing steadies.

“That’s it. We’re okay.”

“We’re okay,” Lyra repeats, her panic and shock melting like snow in the summer sun.

She gawks at the gaping hole in Pyria’s fortifications and stumbles towards it. 

Her eyes look heavenwards. 

A roll of distant thunder rumbles and flashes of light dot the dark, stormy sky. Dozens upon dozens of giant hailstones fly through the air, ready to barrage the Cirrian capital and smash its ramparts to ruin. From a distance, they almost seem...slow, but that was only an illusion, by nature or by magic the mystical ice soar through the air at incredible speeds.

She gawks at the sight, enthralled by how quiet the siege seemed. But that was short-lived.

A large bolt of azure blue lighting howls just past her, down to the thought impenetrable front gates of Pyria. 

The lighting flows into the hands of a woman, no older than 40 winters, who smiles with triumphant joy. She draws back her arms then slams her palms together: And the gates crumble to dust with a hideous, deafening wave of thunder. 

Lyra falls backward from the sheer shock of the attack and helplessly listens to the woman’s mad cackling. The army of Lyrian soldiers behind her raise their weapons and cry out in a victorious cheer as if the battle was already won. 

The woman raises a slim hand and the men are silenced. She flicks her wrists, gesturing for the attack to begin. 

Lyra turns away, balling her fists. “We should go. Pyria will fall.” 

Miri helps her girlfriend up and looks into her watery eyes. “Where would we go?”

Pyria rumbles and shakes, the sounds of bottles smashing on the ground fills the air.

“I don’t know. The Lowertown maybe, it’s been safe from previous sieges. We can pretend to be just a couple of peasant girls taking shelter.”

“Aye. Are you…” Miri looks her up and down, inspecting her thoroughly. Miraculously Lyra mostly seemed fine, save for the disheveled hair and traces of faint blood on her lips, and a few mild bruises. “…feeling okay?”

Lyra nods, rubbing her eyes. “I’m just tired. The armor absorbed most of the shock, whatever water that hailstone was made of… it’s just incredible. Too bad most of it still broke, though.”

Miri shrugs, uninterested in the mystical water. “Where are we anyway?” 

Lyra scratches her hair. “I’m not sure. It doesn’t look like this room has been used in A…” Her face scrunches up in disgust at a spider dangling down from the ceiling. “…While..”

Miri looks around, brows furrowed. “I dunno.” She folds her arms. “This room has nothing, save for a few chairs and a table. But…” She walks around, then crouches in front of the door. 

“Someone was here recently.” She brushes a finger on the ground. “The floor isn’t dusty here. This room isn’t all it seems.” She strokes her chin sagely. 

Lyra tilts her head. “Where did you learn this stuff?”

Miri stares off into the distance with narrowed eyes, still sagely stroking her chin. 

“Miri.” Lyra pipes flatly.

“Hmm? What?” 

“Where did you learn this stuff?” 

Her eyes widen, nearly popping out of their sockets. “Um.” Then she frowns, lips pursed into a pout. “I have eyes. I can see things.”

Lyra blinks, then shrugs a shoulder. “So, you think this is some kinda secret room? Of all the rooms to crash into...the gods have a sense of humor after all I suppose..”

Miri’s frown deepens. “I don’t think, missy!” She pokes her shoulder. “I know! I think,” She crosses her arms again. “And I know things.” 

Lyra rolls her eyes with a smile. “Well then, All-knowing Miri, where do you know the secret is then?” 

She wrinkles her nose, then giggles. “Let me see.” Miri scrutinizes the wall. Then she presses a stone, and sure enough, the wall slides to the side, revealing a hidden passage. “Tadaa! See? I know things!” 

Lyra giggles and embraces her girlfriend, rubbing her nose against hers. “I know you do.” 

Miri sticks out her tongue. “And don’t you forget.” 

And with that, the girls descend into the passage, following a faraway light. 

Eventually, they arrive in a well-lit, luxurious room, decorated with dozens of musical instruments, stacks on stacks of books, and closets filled with extravagant clothing. 

“Look at these jewels!” Miri squeals, eyes sparkling at the jewelry’s beauty. 

“Jewels?” Lyra’s eyes dart to Miri’s hands, and she runs over to her. “Show me that ring!” 

“What, this one?” She asks, holding out a beautiful sapphire ring. 

“Yes! Give it to me! Please, it’s my mother’s.”

Miri doesn’t waste a second and places the ring into Lyra’s palm.

Lyra traces her fingers over the artifact, gently holding it as if it was as fragile as a fading memory, where the smallest mistake would make it vanish forever. 

“She once told me this ring would mean everything to me one day. I still don’t know what she meant…” 

She blinks, and a few warm, thick tears fall down her eyes. Lyra slides the ring over her finger and feels a surge of warmth. “It’s pretty. I never took it off before father took it from me...anyway, this must’ve been her room…but why would she need a secret hideout like this?”

Lyra’s eyes are drawn to a dusty, but elegantly decorated tome. “Is that…” She runs over to it, nearly tripping over her own feet. 

It reads: 

“Runaria’s diary, final volume.”

She flips open its first page and snorts. 

“Unless your name is Runaria of Tir Na Nog, get your bloody hands off it ya bastard! I’ll know! And I’ll kick your arse! Sincerely, oh, you know why I am by now. Just don’t read my shite!”

Lyra sighs, and clutches the diary to her chest. “I’ll leave it here for now.”

Miri quirks her arching eyebrow. “Why? 

She swallows and rests the book back in its former place. “I just don’t want to read it yet.”

Her girlfriend doesn’t take no for an answer and saunters over her, lightly stroking her cheek. “Don’t you wanna know why she left? Or why she wanted you to have that ring?”

Lyra’s chin quivers at her words, and she quietly shakes her head. 

“I think it would be good for you. I can take her diary with me if you want.”

She clenches her teeth and frantically shakes her head, tears glistening in her eyes. 

“Why not?” 

“Because what if she left because of ME?” Lyra shouts, her features dulling with sadness. “She just left…” Faint traces of guilt lurked in her eyes. “It could’ve been because of me. I think she knew I wasn’t really…”

She stifles a sob, fidgeting with her hair. “A boy.” Lyra blurts, her face screwed up as if she just spoke a curse.

“Maybe she hated me because of it.” 

Miri’s face was as pale as freshly fallen snow. “Oh gods Liri I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for you to...seven hells I’m dumb. But I’m sure she didn’t leave because of you! From what I heard from you she sounds like a really loving woman.”

A sad, but appreciative smile tugs at Lyra’s lips. “It’s alright, really.” She takes her girlfriend’s hands. “I just…I definitely don’t want to read it yet.” 

“I understand, I’m sorry. Why don’t we just get out of here?”

Lyra nods and takes the lead as they venture out of the room. 

A few more rumbles tear through the castle. “Take my hand.” Lyra softly whispers. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” Miri hastily holds her hand. 

Lyra’s forehead puckers. “Do you know where to-“ Her question’s instantly interrupted by her face meeting a wooden wall. “-go.” A clicking noise escapes the wall, and it moves aside. 

“Good job!” Miri genuinely beams. 

“Thanks,” Lyra mumbles, clutching her nose. She takes a small step outside then her hands shoot to her mouth. 

“What’s-“ Her other hand instantly covers Miri, she peeks over the corner, peeking between a pair of slightly open doors.

“Lochaine. I trust the orders have been distributed?” The king’s cold baritone echoes through the room.

“Yes, father. Our...retreat with half the army will be covered. No matter what the cost. The Lyrians have to pay…”

He holds up his hand dismissively as he surveys the battlefield. “This isn’t a retreat. Far from it. This is the beginning of our triumph. The day the Rain kingdom’s final defeat begins.”

The King walks over to the fireplace, gazing Intently at the flames. “We are of the dragon’s blood, and so shall we reign, with fury and flame.” 

His eyes shift color from icy blue to Sangria red. With each breath he takes his irises fill with the likeness of sparks and growing flames, as if his very eyes were ablaze. 

“Daddy?” Caitryn titters. “I’m here! I apologize for the delay! I was just having a little fun.”

“You did not contribute to the war.” The king’s voice scolds.

The princess flinches like she just heard the roar of a erupting volcano. She hunches over, making herself as small as possible.

“I-I’m sorry father! I’m not a…I’m not a killer…but I did cover our backs! We are free to leave. I tricked the Lyrians by taking the form of their pretty princess and sending them off.”

Gregori chuckles. “Very well, it would not have been an issue either way but still, you did well. The fault is mine, I should not expect my daughter to be so…brave, so direct about her fighting. Leave playing warrior to your brother.”

Caitryn stares daggers at her brother. “Aye.”

The king’s eyes shift to the crackling flame before him. He lifts a glass and tosses it on the fire. 

A malicious smile twists his lips as he watches the flames devour the water. “The game is afoot.”

Lochaine steadies his nerves and takes a small step forward. “So you’ve mentioned earlier, father. But I still don’t know what you mean exactly.”

“Patience, son. All in its own time. I will tell you both when you are ready.”

Caitryn chews on her ruby red lips. “What of our sibling?”

“Surely you mean our brother?” Lochaine chides. 

The Fire Princess rolls her eyes. “Fine. Be a bigot.” She whispers. 

“Enough. That boy will stay behind and prove his worth. If he fails…” The king’s gaze turns to his daughter. “There is another way of furthering the family line.” 

Caitryn gulps, her mouth suddenly as dry as the Afreet wastelands. “I will not let you down, father.”

“I know you won’t. The remaining half of the army will likely perish, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made. After that we will-“

Lyra clenches her fists. “Sacrifices?…another way?…” she hisses, her eyes blazing with raw anger. Her fury drowns out the king’s words, but she no longer cares.

Miri lays a hand on her shoulder. “You shouldn’t-“

Lyra draws her lips back into a snarl. “Watch me.”

She stretches out her arm to the window, and a passing by hailstone freezes. 

“Lyra?…” 

The Princess Of Flame closes her fists again, and the hailstone instantly turns to water. With the dragon’s blessing and her anger fueling her magic, she was stronger then ever. 

The water quietly streams through a window, forming into armor. Lyra snaps when fingers and the water crystallizes into ice.  

Miri blinks, then gawks at her girlfriend’s new armor. There was a regal, knightly but beautifully ornate appearance to it from head to toe, from the sleek helmet protecting her head to the slender but still heavy looking boots.

Miri looks at herself and notices for her, the armor took the resemblance of a rogue’s protective leathers. Down to the mask hiding most of her face and the daggers at her hips. 

“Here, let me.” Lyra whispers in a husky contralto, waving her fingers over Miri’s eyes, changing them from autumn brown to a shiny amber. 

“You’re voice uh…” Miri breathed, suddenly very grateful for the mask hiding her face.

“We need to hide who we are in case we have to fight the Lyrians.”

Miri nods. “Gotcha.” She says, mimicking an Estellian accent.

Lyra draws a shaky breath, draws a slender icy rapier, then kicks open the doors. All eyes were on her her. “Father.”

“Dorian.” Her father’s voice carried a silent, but overwhelming rage. “I see you lived. Though I don’t see your maid…who is this wench?”

Lyra’s body shakes as if she’s standing on a constant earthquake, but her eyes burn with a defiant fire. 

“You can’t sacrifice half our armies to cover your sorry arse! You can’t treat our people this way.”

The king guffaws with snickering laughter. “I am your king. This is how we conquer these pathetic sailors and their tricks. You will remove your sad excuse of an armor and your pitiful disguise and come home.”

“It’s no disguise. This is who I am. Wether you see that or not isn’t my problem.” Anger rises in her like a surging tide. “But you abusing our people and throwing them away like dirt…is. And by the Great Dragon I…I…Ashes, i won’t stand for it!”

“And what do you intend to do about it, boy? No matter. Caitryn, Lochaine, kill him. He’s no longer your brother.”

Lochaine’s hearts pounds in his chest. “I understand, father.” He mumbles.

Caitryn’s eyes flick between her sister and her father. “I…yes, father.”

The prince lets out a guttural war cry and charges his sister, but she dashes aside him and goes straight for her father. 

Thunder clashes above Castle Pryia, and as their blades meet a perfectly arranged column of lighting crashes down inches away from the balcony.

Gregori overpowers her easily and grabs her by her throat.

“Return to me!” The king bellows, holding her over the raging battlefield. “So that I might spare your insolent rebellion!

Panic and shock race through Lyra’s veins, she glances at the deadly distance between her and the ground, and her stomach turns in knots. 

“No…” She whispers. 

A bolt of lightning strikes the balcony they stand on, just barely missing the king. Then another strikes the exact same place again.

“NO!” She shouts in a hearty war cry. “Never! This is who I am!” 

The sky roars with thunder and surges with raw electricity, zapping across the black clouds. 

“My name is Lyra Of Roarin! Nothing you can do can EVER change that!”

The tempestuous weather intensifies, and the thunder rumbles and crackles in a clear rhythm, like war drums. 

“If you want Dorian to come back you’ll have to kill me first!” She screams from the top of her lungs, buried rage and pain pouring out like a river breaking free from a dam. 

For the first time in her life, Lyra saw her father’s face contorted in anguish. Her heart clenches at the sight of thick tears rolling down Gregori’s cheeks. 

“So be it. I still love you, son.” He shuts his eyes and begins closing his hand around her throat. 

The sky breaks and cries out with lightning, and it courses through the air, dancing around her hands. 

Static came from within her and without, wreaths of sparks and electricity flowing through her. She feels the downpour of rain, the crackle of the lightning, the primal roar of thunder. 

She calls out to the sky, and it answers. 

Lightning arcs in Lyra’s sky blue eyes, and she slams her hands into Gregori, sending them flying back through the room. Halfway through their fall, his grip on her loosens and she kicks herself free of him. 

Her siblings and Miri can’t help but gawk at the display, their lips parted In silent screams. 

She stands up, the horizon behind her filled with bolts and arcs of Nature’s fury, all crashing down in perfect unity. 

Her eyes widen and she stifles a gasp. To her dismay, and astonishment, her father just quietly stood there. Barely even fazed by her strike. “Your mother’s lightning hardly ever hurt me either. Even with his blessing you’re still the same weakling that got thrown in the mud.”

Lyra feels her head spinning like a top, and she falls down. “Mo gradh…” She croaks, just before vomiting seawater on the floor. Her body convulses wildly as she coughs up wave after wave of seawater, each bigger and more reddish than the last. Until suddenly, she stops. 

The Fire Princess lays there, unmoving. The only signs of life being her shallow, irregular breaths.