Chapter 25 – The Price of Healing
The first day with Lyra was… strange.
She walked at the back of the group, humming tunes no one recognized, occasionally plucking leaves from the dead shrubs they passed and slipping them into a pouch. She didn't ask for directions. She didn't ask about their mission. She simply followed, eyes drifting from Keal to the horizon like she was watching two different stories at once.
Nyx kept glancing back at her.
Selvaria noticed. "If you keep staring, she's going to catch you."
Nyx smirked. "That's the plan."
Astrili groaned. "This is why you get stabbed."
"Correction," Nyx said. "This is why I almost get stabbed."
Keal ignored the chatter, but he was aware of Lyra's steady gaze. She hadn't tried anything since the garden. That, somehow, made her more suspicious.
The Ambush
It was late afternoon when the ground shifted under their feet.
Myros froze mid-step. "That's not normal."
Before anyone could react, the cracked earth split open, and something clawed its way out — many somethings.
Tall, thin creatures with jagged bones jutting from their skin, faces stretched into hollow masks. Their movements were twitchy, unpredictable, like puppets with too many strings. The air stank of rot and metal.
"Bone Wraiths," Selvaria hissed, drawing her blade. "Fast, hard to kill, and they get worse in groups."
"Perfect," Nyx said, grinning as she melted into the shadows.
The wraiths moved as one, rushing in from all sides.
Keal met the first wave head-on, fists cracking bone with each strike. Astrili launched blasts of cosmic flame, but the creatures didn't burn like normal—they twitched, absorbed some of the heat, and kept coming.
Myros summoned an undead to slow the flank, only for it to be torn apart in seconds.
One wraith broke through, slashing across Selvaria's arm before she could parry. She hissed in pain, blood soaking into her sleeve.
Lyra stepped forward then—calm, unhurried.
Her hand brushed Selvaria's wound. Green light bloomed… and the wraith that had attacked her suddenly froze mid-lunge. Its bones blackened, rotting away until it crumbled into dust.
Selvaria stared. "You healed me… and killed it?"
Lyra smiled faintly. "Healing is just… redirecting. I took your injury and gave it to something that deserved it."
Nyx's voice came from the shadows. "I like her."
The Turning Point
The wraiths kept coming. Even with Keal's strength and Astrili's fire, they were being pushed back. Myros was panting, his necrotic summons falling one after another.
Keal ducked under a bone blade, slamming his fist into a wraith's chest hard enough to send it flying—but another took its place instantly.
"Too many," Astrili gritted out. "We need to thin them!"
Lyra's eyes glowed crimson and green. "Then let's thin them."
She stepped into the center of the fight, ignoring the claws swiping at her. She opened her arms, and vines erupted from the cracked ground, wrapping around the nearest wraiths. Flowers bloomed instantly along the vines—beautiful, vibrant… and dripping black liquid.
One by one, the flowers released their droplets onto the wraiths' bones. Wherever it touched, their bodies withered and crumbled, as if decades of decay happened in seconds.
The Price
Keal noticed it first—Lyra's hands were trembling. Not from fear, but from effort. Her breathing slowed, and a faint trail of blood dripped from her nose.
When the last wraith fell, she swayed. Keal caught her by the arm.
"You pushed yourself," he said flatly.
Lyra looked at him, smiling like it was nothing. "Power has a cost. I'm willing to pay it."
Nyx whistled low. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."
Selvaria sheathed her blade, still watching Lyra with suspicion. "You helped us today. But I still don't know if I trust you."
Lyra tilted her head, eyes glinting. "That's fine. Trust is another kind of debt."
They moved on, the dead wraiths crumbling into dust behind them. Keal said nothing, but the image of Lyra standing in the middle of the battlefield, half bathed in light and half in shadow, stayed in his mind.
She had power. She had control. And she had interest in him.
And that, more than anything, was dangerous.