Rain fell like shards of silver over Aurelia, slicing through the streets and alleys where whispers of fear lingered.
Bravo Lucien moved silently, boots splashing in shallow puddles, eyes fixed on the last place he had seen Lyra.
Every step weighed him down. Every heartbeat thumped like a war drum inside his chest.
The city was hollow.
The laughter of children, the chatter of merchants, even the clatter of hooves—all faded into an oppressive silence, as if the world itself mourned.
He reached the river, guided by the faint pull of her pendant.
The current roared violently, swallowing leaves, debris, and secrets alike.
And there, half-buried in mud, he found it—a small scarf.
Lyra's scarf. Soaked, frayed, and cold.
A scream clawed up his throat, but no sound came. His hands trembled as he clutched it.
Who? How? Why?
---
From the shadows, a figure emerged. Cloaked, faceless, and still as the night itself.
"You shouldn't have come here," it said, voice calm, almost amused.
Bravo's fists clenched. "Where is she?" His voice trembled with anger, sharpened into steel.
The figure smiled beneath the hood—and vanished. Only a faint scent of iron lingered on the wind.
---
Days blurred into nights of fruitless searching.
Bravo questioned guards, merchants, even old friends—but all he found were half-truths and silent glances.
Cassian's proud eyes now flickered with guilt.
Renar's smirk never reached his eyes.
And Darius… Darius had turned away completely.
Betrayal had already begun.
The empire had tested him—and failed him. And now, those closest to him were part of the same machinery that had taken Lyra.
---
He sought refuge in the old library beneath the academy, a place untouched by time or envy.
Dusty tomes lined the shelves, filled with histories, laws, and secrets the empire had tried to bury.
Among the margins of a centuries-old codex, he discovered the truth the Founder King had feared most:
Not war. Not rebellion. Not death.
But those who could not be controlled by bloodline alone.
Below the words, a sealed list: The Forbidden Powers.
Names meant to destroy anyone who dared claim them without royal blood.
Bravo's lips curved into a shadowed smile.
The fire within him—cold, relentless—ignited.
If the empire would not give me justice… I would take it.
---
That night, lightning split the sky, revealing the silhouette of the cloaked figure who had warned him at the river.
Its eyes glinted with knowledge, power, and secrets Bravo was yet to understand.
"You are late," it whispered, voice echoing like a ghost.
"But perfect. Everything is in place now."
"Then tell me—where is she?" Bravo demanded.
The shadow vanished, leaving only silence and rain. Bravo fell to his knees, fists striking the cold stone balcony.
He had lost Lyra.
He had lost his friends.
And now… he feared losing himself.
---
From the darkness, a new resolve emerged—cold, sharp, and unyielding.
> "They took everything from me," he whispered to the storm, "but they will not take my vengeance. Not now. Not ever."
Aurelia slept under a pale, watchful moon.
But Bravo Lucien did not.