INT. RUINED SHRINE — NIGHT
The air is damp, carrying the smell of earth and old stone. Lyra clutches her hand, still stinging from the glowing carving.
LYRA
(softly)
My mother?
ROWAN
Yes. She built this shrine… and then she destroyed everything it was meant to protect.
LYRA
I don't understand—
ROWAN
You will. But first—hold still.
He kneels in front of her, taking her burned hand gently. His fingers are warm, calloused from years of wielding a blade. Lyra's breath catches as his touch sends a strange heat spiraling up her arm — not entirely pain.
---
ROWAN
The symbols here aren't just decoration. They're part of a seal. Your blood… it reacts to them.
LYRA
Because of my mother?
ROWAN
Because you're the last of her line. And the Hunters know it.
---
EXT. FOREST OUTSIDE SHRINE — CONTINUOUS
Dark figures slip between the trees — silent, patient. The Hunter Leader watches the shrine with a predator's stillness.
HUNTER LEADER
She's inside. We wait. When the moon fades, she will have nowhere to run.
---
INT. RUINED SHRINE — NIGHT
Lyra pulls her hand away, pacing.
LYRA
You keep talking in riddles. What do they want from me?
ROWAN
They want the same thing your mother ran from — the power to open the Gate.
LYRA
The Gate?
Rowan points to the far wall, where the carvings form the shape of a massive door. The air around it shimmers faintly.
ROWAN
On the other side lies something older than the kingdom. Older than the world you know. Your mother sealed it away… but the seal is weakening. And if they use you to open it—
He stops. His jaw tightens.
LYRA
What?
ROWAN
It won't just destroy this kingdom. It will unmake everything.
---
LYRA
So I'm some… key? That's it?
ROWAN
Not just a key. You have the same gift your mother had — the ability to wield starfire. But she never trained you.
LYRA
Starfire…?
Rowan steps closer, his voice low.
ROWAN
It's the only magic that can burn through shadow. And it only exists in your bloodline.
---
For a moment, neither speaks. The moonlight spills across them, catching in Rowan's eyes.
LYRA
Why are you helping me? You don't even know me.
ROWAN
(quietly)
I knew your mother. And I swore to protect what she left behind.
Their gazes lock. For the first time since she met him, Lyra feels the weight behind his calm — a grief so deep it almost feels familiar.
---
A dull thud shakes the ground. Then another.
Rowan's head snaps toward the doorway.
ROWAN
They've started the breach. We're out of time.
He grabs her wrist — not rough, but urgent — and pulls her toward the back of the shrine.
LYRA
Where are we going?
ROWAN
Somewhere they can't follow.
---
INT. SHRINE PASSAGE — NIGHT
They descend into darkness, narrow stone steps winding deep underground. Lyra's chest tightens; the air grows warmer, thicker.
The whispering voice from before returns — but this time it's inside her head.
VOICE (inside her mind)
Lyra… let me in.
She stumbles, clutching the wall. Rowan catches her before she falls.
ROWAN
(urgent)
What is it?
LYRA
It's—inside—my head—
Her eyes blaze for a fraction of a second, a burst of white-gold light. Rowan freezes, staring at her like he's seeing something impossible.
---
ROWAN
(whisper)
Gods help us… it's already waking.
---
FADE OUT.