**Lyra's POV**
I couldn't sleep.
The guest chambers in the Royal Palace were more luxurious than any room I'd ever occupied. Silk curtains, a bed large enough for three people, and windows that overlooked the capital's glittering lights. Everything designed to ensure perfect comfort for visiting nobility.
But comfort felt impossible when your entire understanding of the world had been shattered in the span of a single conversation.
I sat by the window, still fully dressed despite the late hour, watching the city below. Somewhere out there, people were going about their evening routines. Merchants closing their shops. Families gathering for dinner. Children being tucked into bed with stories about brave imperial heroes and the glorious empire that protected them from the chaos of the old world.
All of it built on lies.
The current Empire was built on the systematic suppression and erasure of a vastly superior pre-Imperial civilization.
King Aldwin's words echoed in my mind, each repetition driving the truth deeper like a blade between my ribs. Everything I'd been taught, everything I'd believed about the world I served, was a carefully constructed fiction designed to hide something monstrous.
The empire I'd sworn myself to hadn't conquered primitive tribes and brought civilization to barbarian lands. It had destroyed something greater than itself and then spent five centuries lying about it.
I pressed my palm against the cool glass of the window, trying to ground myself in something real. But even the capital below felt different now. The grand buildings that had impressed me yesterday now looked like monuments built on mass graves. The orderly streets that had spoken of imperial efficiency now seemed like scars across the landscape, deliberately covering whatever had come before.
These ancient people created a network of memory chambers and echo sites designed to preserve their knowledge and eventually restore balance to the world.
My fingers traced patterns on the window's surface, unconscious movements that might have been echo-script or might have been nothing at all. The memory chamber at Azmere hadn't just shown me my own past. It had shown me fragments of something larger, older, more complex than anything I'd imagined possible.
Those weren't just ruins we'd found. They were messages. Lessons. Warnings.
And they were choosing me to receive them.
The thought made my stomach clench with something between terror and nausea. What did it mean that ancient sites were awakening in response to my presence? What did it say about who I was, where I'd come from, what I might represent?
I'm an orphan, I reminded myself. No family history. No bloodline connections. No noble heritage to trace back through imperial records.
But what if that wasn't an accident? What if my lack of documented history wasn't because I was nobody, but because I was descended from people the empire had tried to erase entirely?
I stood abruptly, pacing to the center of the room. The Persian rugs beneath my feet were probably worth more than most people earned in a year, their intricate patterns speaking of imperial wealth and trade networks spanning continents. Beautiful. Expensive. Built on the systematic destruction of whatever artistic traditions had existed before.
The worst part wasn't the lies themselves. It was how completely I'd believed them. How thoroughly I'd been shaped by imperial education, imperial values, imperial mythology. I'd served House Pendragon with genuine loyalty and pride, convinced I was part of something noble and necessary.
But Lady Ilyana's words haunted me: People who believe the old kingdom's knowledge is worth any price. People who think they can control what consumed an entire civilization.
Was that what I was becoming? Someone so desperate to understand my origins that I'd risk awakening forces that had already destroyed one world?
The memory chamber had felt so compelling, so right. Like coming home to a place I'd never been but had always belonged. The ancient script had made sense to me in ways that formal imperial education never quite had. The echoes there had responded to me not as a foreigner or intruder, but as someone they recognized.
Someone they'd been waiting for.
A soft knock at the door interrupted my spiraling thoughts. I considered ignoring it, but the sound came again, patient and polite.
"Come in," I called, trying to smooth the tension from my voice.
The door opened to reveal Princess Elysia, still dressed in her court gown but looking somehow smaller than she had in the receiving hall. Her amber eyes held a mixture of concern and something that might have been guilt.
"I thought you might be having trouble sleeping," she said softly. "After everything we discussed today."
"Discussed," I repeated, tasting the word's inadequacy. "Is that what we're calling it?"
Elysia closed the door behind her and moved into the room with careful grace. "May I sit?"
I gestured to one of the ornate chairs near the fireplace. She settled into it with the unconscious elegance of someone born to palace life, but her expression remained troubled.
"I wanted to apologize," she said. "For the way you learned about the network. About the truth of our history. It wasn't supposed to happen like that."
"How was it supposed to happen?" I asked, taking the chair across from her. "Were you planning to ease me into the revelation that everything I've believed about the world is a lie?"
"We were trying to find the right approach," Elysia admitted. "Alaric and I have been researching this for over a year, trying to understand what we'd uncovered. But having theoretical knowledge about historical suppression is different from meeting someone who might be directly connected to what was lost."
"Connected how?" The question came out sharper than I'd intended. "I'm an orphan, Princess. I have no family history, no bloodline documentation, no connection to anything or anyone."
"That's exactly what makes you so significant," Elysia said gently. "Lyra, the imperial record-keeping system is remarkably thorough. Every citizen, every family line, every noble house, every merchant guild - all of it documented and tracked across generations. The fact that you have no recorded history isn't an oversight. It's a deliberate gap."
My throat felt tight. "You think I'm descended from people the empire tried to erase."
"I think you represent something the empire has spent centuries trying to make everyone forget," she said. "Including yourself."
The words settled in my chest like stones dropped into dark water. Everything about my life suddenly looked different through this lens. The orphanage that had no records of where I'd come from. The exceptional abilities that manifested without training or bloodline explanation. The way ancient sites responded to me as if recognizing something I didn't know I carried.
"The chamber at Azmere," I said slowly. "It responded to me in ways that felt... impossible. Like it recognized something in me that I don't even recognize in myself. And the way it showed me my memories - not just displaying them, but making me feel them again with perfect clarity. That's not how echo chambers are supposed to work." I paused, frowning. "Though Juno experienced the same thing. His memories, shown with the same intensity, the same emotional weight. So how certain are we that this is about me specifically?"
Elysia's expression grew thoughtful. "That's... actually significant. What happened with his blade during the experience?"
"Ashthorn responded differently than it ever had before," I admitted. "The echo-script began rearranging itself, forming symbols that matched what we saw in the chamber."
"Ah." Understanding dawned in her amber eyes. "The blade contains fragments of one of the Sundered Seven - weapons from the old civilization. It likely served as a key, opening the chamber's deeper functions for both of you. But Lyra, the chamber activated in response to your presence initially. Juno's experience was secondary, facilitated by his weapon's connection to the ancient network."
"So I'm still the primary catalyst," I said, the weight settling back on my shoulders.
"It would seem so. Though having Juno there as a secondary anchor may have made the experience safer for both of you."
"And possibly how to prevent it from happening again."
The silence that followed felt heavy with implications neither of us wanted to voice directly. Outside, the city continued its peaceful evening routine, blissfully unaware that its foundational myths were crumbling in a palace room far above their heads.
"Your father is dying," I said finally. "Burning himself alive to keep these sites suppressed. And you want to risk awakening them further."
Elysia's composure cracked slightly, revealing the fear and desperation she'd been hiding behind royal dignity. "We're losing him either way. The containment system is failing regardless of what we do. The network is already beginning to activate. Our choice isn't between safety and risk - it's between understanding what's happening and facing it blind."
"And if Lady Ilyana is right? If investigating these sites triggers something that destroys everything, just like it destroyed the original civilization?"
"Then at least we'll know what we're fighting," Elysia said quietly. "And maybe, just maybe, we'll find something they missed. Some solution they didn't have time to implement."
I stood and moved back to the window, staring out at the capital's lights. Each one represented lives, families, dreams, hopes. People who deserved better than to be pawns in a conflict between ancient powers and imperial lies.
"What do you want from me?" I asked without turning around.
"We want you to help us understand what's happening," Elysia said. "To use your connection to the network to learn what these sites are really for. What the old civilization was trying to achieve. What went wrong."
"And if what went wrong was them trusting someone like me?"
"Then we'll face that truth too."
I turned back to face her, seeing in her expression the same mixture of hope and terror that was churning in my own chest. Two young women, products of different worlds, trying to navigate forces far larger than either of us had ever imagined.
"The expedition to Azmere," I said. "When?"
"Three days," Elysia replied. "Enough time to gather proper equipment and research staff. Dr. Castille will lead the archaeological team, and Marcus Thorne will serve as our guide through the deeper chambers."
"And Juno?"
"Will go if you go," she said with a slight smile. "He made that quite clear after you left the receiving hall."
Despite everything, that brought a measure of comfort. Whatever waited for us in the depths of ancient memory, I wouldn't face it alone.
"I'll need access to any records you have about the old civilization," I said. "Everything, no matter how fragmentary or theoretical. If I'm going to do this, I want to understand as much as possible about what we're walking into."
"Of course," Elysia said, relief evident in her voice. "Alaric has compiled everything we've discovered. Historical fragments, architectural analysis, echo-resonance patterns - all of it."
"And after Azmere? If we learn something significant?"
"Then we figure out what comes next," she said. "Together."
Together. The word felt both reassuring and terrifying.
After Elysia left, I remained by the window for hours, watching the capital settle into sleep. Somewhere out there was Azmere, where ancient chambers waited to show me more truth than I might be ready to bear. Somewhere beyond that were hundreds of other sites, each one a fragment of a civilization that had been systematically erased from history.
And somewhere in my own blood and bone were memories I'd never lived, knowledge I'd never learned, connections to people whose names had been forgotten by everyone except the stones they'd left behind.
Three days.
In three days, I would return to the place where everything had begun to unravel. Where the careful lies of empire started giving way to truths that might be more dangerous than any deception.
But as I finally turned away from the window and prepared for what little sleep might come, I realized something had shifted inside me. The terror was still there, the uncertainty, the weight of impossible responsibility. But beneath it all was something else.
Purpose.
For the first time in my life, I wasn't just reacting to circumstances or fulfilling expectations others had set for me. I was choosing my own path, even if that path led into darkness I couldn't yet fathom.
Whatever waited in the depths of Azmere, whatever truths the ancient network held, whatever price understanding might demand - I would face it all with eyes open and will unbroken.
The empire had been built on lies, but perhaps it didn't have to end with them.
Perhaps there was still time to choose a different path.
Perhaps there was still hope for truth.