LYRIAN AND REONE
"Reone,What are we doing?" Lyrian whispered, breathless, when they finally pulled away from their kiss.
Reone's voice came out rough, almost ragged. "I don't know."
Lyrian let out a trembling breath, pressing her lips together. There was a painful lump in her throat she couldn't quite swallow. She knew they couldn't stay like this—not here, not now. Her eyes flickered back to his—steady, searching.
"Reone," she said softly, "I want so badly for us to… to explore whatever is between us again. But we're on a mission.This isnt the time or place."
She didn't know it, but she was echoing Reone's own thoughts—the same ones he'd been desperately trying to push down.
He exhaled, the sound heavy. "I know. That's what I've been trying to tell myself. It's just… it's hard for me to focus when youre involved, Lyrian."
He caught himself too late.
Lyrian's lips curved into a faint smile. "So I'm distracting you, am I?"
"You sound smug," Reone muttered, trying—and failing—to hide the corner of his mouth that was threatening to smile.
She giggled quietly. "Of course I am. I mean, I do have the power to affect one Reone of Solaris—the Ice King himself."
"You've been doing that since the day we met," he said, his voice softening.
Her laughter faded, replaced by something softer, more tender. She bit her lower lip, and his gaze immediately dropped to the motion. His breath caught.
When he spoke, his voice was low, husky.
"Listen, Lyrian. I know that I made mistakes in the past, when we were together.I didnt treat you right,"he began.
"Reone, you really don't have to do this," Lyrian said, trying to interrupt.
"No, I want to. This time it's your turn to listen," he said, gently touching her cheek. "Lyrian, I can't say I'm a completely different person than I was two years ago, but… I've changed. At least a little. And I've learned a lot. Like that I'm the reason we broke up. I didn't treat you right, the way you deserved, and I hurt you,when you were nothing but an angel to me."
"Reone…" Lyrian's voice trembled, tears misting her eyes.
He continued, each word measured, as if forcing the truth past old habits of stubbornness. "I want you to know I'm not that guy anymore. I can't claim I'm perfect or that I've completely transformed—but I'm… better."
Tears contnued to well in Lyrian's eyes. She cupped his cheek, her expression soft and full of tenderness. "I know, Reone. Trust me, I know," she whispered.
She broke eye contact for a moment, exhaling softly, then met his gaze again. "Reone, I'm so glad you said that. You have no idea… If I'm being honest, I've been scared. Scared that if I fell for you again, you'd still be the same guy and...hurt me. But what you've said… it's set some of those doubts at ease."
Reone nodded,understand her completely.He then pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, quiet and grounding.
He sighed quietely.
"I know we can't be together right now," he murmured, "but maybe… after the mission…"
"Yeah," Lyrian said quietly. "Maybe… after the mission."
She leaned forward and pressed one final, lingering kiss to his lips. Then, drawing back, Lyrian straightened, her tone firm again. "You should get some sleep. I need you well-rested in the morning. I'll keep watch."
Reone smiled—small, but genuine. "Yes, ma'am," he said, knowing better than to argue with her.
He stood up ajd disappeared into the tent, and within minutes, Lyrian heard the soft rhythm of his breathing. She smiled to herself. Somehow, everything felt a little lighter. She still didn't know where their relationship stood—or even what tomorrow would bring—but she knew one thing for certain: she could handle anything that came her way. Because she was strong. And with Reone by her side, she was much stronger.
From the corner of her eye, Lyrian noticed the fire beginning to die. She knelt beside it and stoked it gently, watching sparks drift upward into the dark canopy above. The forest around her was still—perfectly calm.
Then she heard it: a faint rustling, like leaves brushing together. Footsteps?
Lyrian froze, listening hard.
Silence—except for the steady sound of Reone's breathing from inside the tent.
Still, her pulse quickened. She was sure she'd heard something. Should she wake him? No. If it was nothing, she'd have waken him up for no reason.
She rose quietly, brushing the dirt from her hands, and turned toward the trees. Her senses sharpened, every instinct alert.
"Hello?" she whispered, her voice barely carrying. "Is anyone there?"
Nothing.
She exhaled slowly, shoulders loosening—then a pink, viscous droplet landed on her hand. She blinked, startled, and looked up.
Something moved in the shadows above her. Her breath hitched. A figure crouched among the branches—tall, masked, with bright yellow eyes that gleamed in the dark.
She gasped in horror. Before she could react, it leapt.
Lyrian rolled aside just in time, training from Arcannum kicking in. She deflected one strike, then another, her breath loud and quick as she countered. The creature moved fast—impossibly fast—but she was faster. With a precise twist, she sent it sprawling to the ground.
She lifted her hand, energy gathering at her fingertips—a sonic blast ready to fire—but then the creature blinked. Its eyes, wide and strangely expressive, locked onto hers. Vulnerable but...elegant.
Lyrian hesitated. In that split second, the creature swept her legs out from under her. Shoot,she thought.
She hit the ground with a groan but rolled quickly back to her feet. The figure was already standing—tall, humanoid, with long ears and only three fingers on each hand.
It didn't attack again. Instead, it hunched slightly, one hand clutching its lower abdomen. Her gaze followed the trail of pink droplets staining the forest floor. Was that its blood?she wondered.
"You're hurt," she said carefully. It didn't respond. Lyrian slowly lowered her hands. Though it had just attacked her, something deep in her gut told her the figure meant her no harm—and that it was in a predicament of some kind.
"You don't need to be afraid," she said gently. "I want to help you."
She didn't know how she would, but she meant it. And she wanted the creature to know she wasn't a threat. The figure tilted its head, curious—as if trying to understand her. Then, slowly, a faint light began to pulse from the hand pressed against its wound. The glow spread, brightening until Lyrian had to shield her eyes.
When the light faded, the figure straightened, its stance firm and steady.
Lyrian gasped softly. "Did you just… heal yourself?"
"Lyrian?" Reone's voice cut through the night.
The creature flinched. Lyrian turned instinctively toward the sound—and in that heartbeat, when she looked back, the figure was gone.
"What?" she whispered, scanning the shadows. Where was it? She asked herself. It couldn't have just disappeared, right?
Reone emerged from the darkness, startling her. "It's just me," he said.
"I knew that," Lyrian replied a little too quickly.
He frowned. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Lyrian just stared at him.
Reone asked, his tone suddenly worried, "I thought I heard something. Did you?"
"Nope," she said, forcing a small smile. "Just me gathering some wood for the fire."
For reasons she couldn't explain, she didn't tell him about the creature. Maybe because it had clearly wanted to keep its identity a secret—and she wanted to honor that. Or maybe because she wasn't even sure it had been real.
"You shouldn't wander off alone," Reone said firmly.
"You're right," she agreed softly. "My bad."
His expression stayed serious, concern flickering in his eyes. "You still haven't answered me. You're okay, right?"
Lyrian couldn't help feeling a little touched by his worry. "I'm fine, Reone."
"Good. Let's head back."
Nodding, Lyrian let him lead her toward the camp.
"I think I'll sleep a little before dawn," Reone murmured.
"That's probably best," Lyrian said, her mind still replaying what she'd seen.
When she looked back one last time, her gaze caught a faint trail of glowing pink substance on the ground—proof that she hadn't imagined it.
Her heart skipped.
Lyrian's brows furrowed in confusion as a flood of questions raced through her mind. What was that mysterious figure? Who was behind the mask? Why had it attacked her—and how had it gotten hurt?
Lyrian didn't know the answers to any of them. But one thing was certain: something strange was happening in this forest.