"I'm appointing Lady Lyra as council adviser."
Silence crashed through the chamber like it was palpable.Three council members stared. Auryn didn't repeat himself, just waited.
The round table sat between them. Five chairs occupied. Marten's empty seat remained pushed back. Bloodstain still fresh in the courtyard outside.
Godfrey sat rigid. His face pale. A recently flipped traitor now sitting at this table.
Lord Wren was cautious by nature, He cleared his throat carefully. Counting his teeth as he spoke.
"Your Highness... Lady Lyra is your wife. Elevating her to council adviser. He paused. Some might question the precedent"
"Some?" Auryn's tone was sharp as a sword. His brow raised. "Who?"
Wren hesitated. His lips suddenly sealed.
Auryn asked again. "You?"
"No, Your Highness." Wren quickly answered.
"Then there's no issue."
Auryn's gaze swept across the table.
"Marten's seat remains empty. His betrayal has tainted it. I won't fill it lightly."
He gestured toward Godfrey. "You remain at this table. But no longer as head steward."
Godfrey straightened. Tension visible on his contorted face.
"You're now a provisional steward. Prove your competence over the next quarter and earn permanency."
Understanding flickered across Godfrey's face. He felt relief mixed with pressure and gratitude.
"Yes, Your Highness. I won't fail you again."
"See that you don't."
Lord Petyr, a younger, ambitious councilor tested boundaries. "Your Highness, if I may, what qualifies Lady Lyra for—"
Auryn's eyes locked on him. His crimson glare turned heat to cold.
"She's smarter than you. More observant. And unlike some here..."
He spoke slower than needed.
"...she asks questions when she has them instead of plotting behind closed doors."
Petyr looked stunned and nodded quickly. Knowing hisapproval wasn't needed when Auryn had made up his mind.
Lyra as adviser keeps her close. Keeps her in reach. If she's going to discover who I am... better to control when and how.
Auryn thought with eyes still on the councilors.
A few minutes passed....
And the discussion shifted from appointments to territory managements and adjustments. Grain stores, Tax collections and security reshuffles.
Auryn activated Author's Eyes amidst the meeting. Auras visible around the table.
Godfrey's was pale silver with faint yellow streaks. Conflicted still, but stabilizing toward loyalty.
Lord Wren was solid silver. He was simply loyal maybe to a fault even.
Lord Petyr's and lady Sera's were silver as well. Each with their own ambitions but still willing to follow Auryn.
The auras flickered while some held steady as discussion continued. Auryn used this means to test the advanced state of the skill.
He asked Petyr directly, so suddenly it caught the young man off-guard.
"Do you believe Godfrey's appointment is wise?"
"Yes, Your Highness." Petyr answered quickly. Not stuttering for a second.
His aura flickered. Shimmered briefly like heat distortion.
Lie.... Auryn leaned forward slightly. Speaking slower. Each word carrying weight.
"I value honesty over flattery. Speak your actual concern."
Petyr swallowed. "I–I worry that Godfrey's past ties might resurface. But I trust your judgment to manage it your Highness."
Auryn's gaze stayed on him and there was no distortion this time. It was the truth.
"Good." He looked at the rest of the table "Voice doubts when you have them. I need advisers who think, not lackeys who simply nod."
Petyr bowed his head slightly. "Understood, Your Highness." The others nodded as well.
It does work. My own personal Lie detector
---
Auryn finally stood after a few minutes.
"That concludes today's session. You are all dismissed."
The council members rose and bowed before leaving but Godfrey lingered at the doorway. "Thank you, Your Highness. For another chance."
Auryn gave a single nod. Neither warm nor cold. Mere acknowledgement.
In no time, the chamber emptied. Auryn was all alone. He moved toward the private wing. He knew it was time to face what he'd been avoiding.
He strolled through the stone corridors as dull light slanted through tall windows.
Out of nowhere, Lyra stepped into his path. Appeared from a side corridor junction. She blocked him completely.
Her silver hair was unbound and flowing. Not her formal attire. Something simpler. Her feet bare.
She'd been waiting. Hadn't bothered with shoes or courtly appearance.
She stepped close. Reaching out, her fingers found the Life Anchor at his neck. The dragon-light pendant cold against his skin.
Her fingers rested against the metal and his chest beneath.Then raised it. The pendant catching light.
Her expression was steel. Eyes determined.
"Who are you?" She asked simply.
Auryn stopped. The shock that once stole his countenance disappearing.
"Lyra, this isn't the place—"
"Yes. It is." She held the pendant between them.
"You touch this every single day. Like a drowning man clutching driftwood."
"But Auryn. The Auryn I married—never wore it. Left it buried in his drawer collecting dust."
She stepped closer. The pendant still in her hand, chain taut between them.
"Your handwriting changed overnight. Your vocabulary. Your eyes and not just the colour. They appear different when you think no one's watching."
Her voice dropped, became calmer.
"You move differently. Think differently. You are different."
She didn't mince her words. Didn't falter.
"So I'll ask one more them. Who. Are. You?"
Auryn's chest tightened.
She knows. Maybe not everything but enough. that I can't lie without her seeing through it. Just give her something
He met her gaze, exhaling slowly.
"You're right."
Her breath hitched. Pain flashed across her whole body.
"I'm not... the Auryn you married." He stepped up to meet her eye level.
"When I woke after the poison..." He paused. Chose his words carefully.
"Something changed. I have memories that aren't his. Memories of... somewhere else. Someone else."
"Another life. Maybe even another world."
Lyra's eyes widened. Confusion and disbelief hugging her skin tightly.
"Another... what does that—how is that even—" Her once unfazed voice, trembled.
Auryn's head snapped left.Toward the window. His enhanced senses catching something.
TWANG
A bowstring releasing. It was distant but unmistakable. An arrow whistled through the air at high velocity. Its trajectory was aimed at Lyra.
Auryn eyes widened as he moved. Instinct taking over as he grabbed Lyra's arm. Yanked her aside. Intentionally throwijg himself in front.
The window exploded. Glass shattered inward. Shards glittering in afternoon light.
The arrow struck his chest. Just below the collarbone and above his heart. Barely missing the vitals.
Pain struck Auryn instantly while breath punched from his lungs. He gasped and staggered, the arrow shaft protruding.
Blood spreaded across his shirt while his legs gave out. He fell on one knee. Pressed his hand against the wound.
Lyra's scream tore through the corridor.
"AURYN!"
Time felt fractured as everything slowed. Lyra watched him fall. Arrow buried in his chest. Blood. So much blood.
He threw himself in front of me. He saved my life.
Panic ripped through her.
"AURYN!"
She dropped to her knees beside him. Hands hovering over the wound. Her fingers shook, afraid to touch. Afraid to hurt him more.
"You stay with me—don't you dare"
He looked up at her. Pain etched across his features. But his eyes... stayed focused and aware. He reached up and held her hand weakly.
"Lyra... run..." His voice strained barely audible.
"I'm not leaving you!"
His grip tightened just slightly.
"May not be... Auryn..." Words coming with difficulty. "But...I'm... yours..."
"What?"
"Always... yours..." He completed.
Confusion warred with her terror. What does that mean? He just said he's not Auryn and yet...
Heavy footsteps approached. Lyra's head snapped up. She positioned herself between him and the threat.
Whatever's coming. Goes through me first. She thought.
Suddenly the window exploded outward. Completely destroyed.
A man launched through the opening and landed in the corridor. He rolled smoothly. Coming up with sword already drawn.
Lyra's eyes widened.
He was tall and lean but powerfully built. Swordsman's physique—every muscle purpose-driven.
Dark hair graying at temples. Sharp cheekbones. Eyes cold gray. Fury beneath them.
He moved like water. Every step precisely placed. Weight balanced perfectly
Then recognition finally hit Lyra.
Lord Castor of the eastern province. Vaedon's vassal lord.
Why is he—?
Castor's gaze locked on Auryn behind her. Ignoring Lyra completely like she were invisible.
He raised his sword. A long single-edged blade, elegant steel. Already bloodied.
"You..."
His voice was low, shaking with restrained fury.
"You killed him."
Confusion pierced Lyra's terror.
Killed who? Marten? The execution this morning?
But that was legal and justified. Treason—Why would Castor care about—
Castor moved. Faster than anyone Lyra had ever seen except Lord Draelor himself.
He closed the distance. Blade raised high. Preparing to execute Auryn.
His blade descended toward Auryn's exposed neck. A single stroke and instant death.
Lyra's body moved on its own. She threw herself between them. Arms spread wide. Shielding Auryn with her entire body.
"NO!"
Castor's eyes widened. Blade already committed. He tried redirecting but his momentum was already heavy.
In a fraction of a second. It all boiled out. Overwhelming reasoning.
He's not Auryn. She recalled his words again.
"Not Auryn... but yours..."
I don't understand how but he's MINE. Different or not. He's mine, i won't lose him.
Her pounding heart deafened her ears. It resounded fear, love and absolute certainty.
The blade was there. Her fate certain but something deep inside her called and she answered.
It wasn't thought or choice. Merely instinct. Primal and ancient.
It ignited. Heat that wasn't heat. Cold that wasn't cold.
Silver Light exploded from her chest while her hands erupted in flames. It wasn't just fire. It glittered like starlight. Silvery in hue.
Her hair blaze. Silver strands lifted, floating. Glowing from within.
Her eyes flared wide. Amber consumed by solid silver-white light. he flames spread across her entire body then it roared outward.
A wall of silver fire between her and the descending blade.
Castor's blade merely six inches from her neck. Still descending as flames met steel.
Castor's mouth opened as his mind whirled. What is she?
Blade touching flames. Metal glowing red-white while Auryn was on one knee behind Lyra.
His hand reached toward her weakly. Blood spreading beneath him. Eyes wide with terror. Lyra...no..wai--
Lyra was at the center of the explosion. Flames consuming her vision. Roaring in her ears.
She couldn't see the blade anymore. Couldn't see Castor. Only silver light. Only fire that isn't fire with only one certainty
I won't let him die.
Light expanded, Consuming the corridor. The world broke like glass. And everything.
Simply. Went. WHITE.