Lyra discovered the first rule of Aerendell the hard way.
It was written on a small wooden plaque nailed crookedly to the wall of her room at The Crooked Compass:
RULE #1: If it hums, glows, whispers, or calls you "chosen" — don't touch it.
She stared at the plaque. Then at her satchel.
The satchel hummed.
Very softly.
Very accusingly.
"I'm not touching you," Lyra whispered.
The satchel hummed louder.
She sighed. "I am looking at you. That's different."
Morning light spilled through the window, painting the room gold. Outside, Aerendell was already awake—bells chimed, merchants argued, and somewhere a rooster crowed in what sounded like three different keys.
Lyra swung her legs off the bed and stood. The map hadn't glowed all night. It had been quiet, dormant.
Until now.
She approached the satchel cautiously, like one might approach a sleeping cat that had been known to bite.
The humming shifted, becoming… excited.
"No," she said firmly. "We are not doing magic before breakfast."
The humming stopped.
She felt absurdly victorious.
Downstairs, the inn buzzed with life. Kael was already at a table, boots propped on a chair, cleaning his sword with slow, methodical strokes.
"You look tired," he said without looking up.
"I argued with a map," Lyra replied.
"Did you win?"
"…Unclear."
Mara slammed two mugs onto the table. "Tea," she said. "Strong enough to make you regret existing."
Lyra smiled gratefully.
As she sipped, Kael leaned forward. "We leave today."
Her hand froze mid-cup. "Leave?"
"Yes."
"But Aerendell—"
"—is no longer safe," Kael finished. "Not for you. Edrin won't act openly, but he'll whisper. And whispers travel faster than armies."
Lyra stared into her tea. "Where would we go?"
Kael hesitated.
"That depends," he said slowly, "on what the map can do."
As if summoned by the mention, the satchel pulsed—once.
Mara swore. "Not in my inn."
Kael sighed. "I didn't even touch it."
Lyra opened the satchel before she could stop herself.
The map unfolded on its own, floating between them. Symbols rearranged. Lines stretched and collapsed. A new mark burned itself into the parchment—a star within a circle.
Kael's expression darkened.
"That's a waypoint," he said. "A lost one."
"Lost how?" Lyra asked.
"Intentionally."
The map shifted again, highlighting a distant region labeled in faint ink:
The Glass Expanse
Mara crossed her arms. "Nobody goes there."
Kael nodded. "Because nobody comes back."
Lyra swallowed. "Is that where it wants us to go?"
The star pulsed.
"Yes," Kael said. "And before you ask—no. We're not going."
The map's glow intensified.
Lyra felt heat rush through her fingers, not painful—urgent.
"I don't think it's asking," she said quietly.
The inn shuddered.
Plates rattled. A few patrons screamed.
Mara slammed her palm on the table. "Out. Now. All of you."
The map snapped shut, falling back into Lyra's hands as if nothing had happened.
Kael was already on his feet, scanning the room. "That was a signal."
"A what?" Lyra asked.
"A beacon," he said grimly. "Someone felt that."
As if to confirm his words, the front door burst open.
A woman stepped inside, cloaked in silver thread, eyes sharp as cut glass. The air around her shimmered unnaturally.
"Lyra Fenwick," she said calmly. "You're coming with me."
Kael moved between them instantly. "She's not."
The woman smiled faintly. "I wasn't speaking to you."
Lyra's heart hammered. "Who are you?"
"Seraphine Vale," the woman replied. "Cartographer of the Crown."
Lyra blinked. "That's… a job?"
Seraphine's gaze flicked to the satchel. "For some maps."
Kael's hand tightened on his sword. "You work for kings."
"I work for balance," Seraphine corrected. "And you're disrupting it."
The room felt smaller. Heavier.
Lyra took a breath she wasn't sure she'd survive. "I don't want to disrupt anything. I just want to go home."
Seraphine's expression softened—just a little.
"There is no home after the map chooses you," she said. "Only paths."
Kael swore under his breath.
Lyra looked down at the satchel, then back up.
"If I go with you," she said carefully, "will people stop getting hurt?"
Seraphine hesitated.
"No," she said honestly. "But they'll get hurt in a more… organized way."
Lyra grimaced. "That's not comforting."
Kael leaned close. "You don't owe her anything."
Lyra nodded. Then straightened.
"I'm not going with you," she said to Seraphine. "And I'm not handing over the map."
Seraphine studied her. Then smiled—genuinely this time.
"Good," she said. "I was hoping you'd say that."
Before either of them could react, Seraphine flicked her wrist. The floor beneath Lyra cracked—revealing glowing sigils.
"Run," Kael shouted.
The inn exploded into light.
And the map laughed.
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