Night fell over the Ember Vale like a shroud.
Lyra sat near the faint glow of their campfire, watching the embers curl into the air. The flames shimmered gold when she stared too long — her magic, reacting to her mood again. She tried to calm herself, but her thoughts wouldn't still.
Kael was across from her, sharpening a blade that looked too old to belong to anyone living. The sound — metal scraping softly against stone — felt too steady, too controlled.
You don't sleep, do you? she asked.
He didn't look up. No.
Because you can't, or because you won't?
Because I don't need to.
Lyra tilted her head. Have you ever gotten tired of answering questions like a riddle?
No.
She smirked faintly. I think you enjoy frustrating me.
That would require enjoyment, Kael said, deadpan.
Lyra threw a small pebble at him. It bounced off his boot. You're impossible.
Kael finally looked up, eyes glinting faintly in the firelight. And you're persistent. A dangerous combination.
Dangerous for whom?
For both of us.
Something in his tone made her pause. There was no threat in it, but a quiet warning — like he knew something she didn't.
Lyra shifted closer to the fire, rubbing her hands together. The silence between them stretched, filled only by the whispering wind moving through the Vale.
After a moment, she said softly, You mentioned the purges. Did you lose someone?
Kael's jaw tightened. We all did.
That's not an answer.
Neither is the question you really want to ask.
She frowned. Which is?
He looked at her then — a long, unreadable stare. What am I?
The fire crackled. Lyra's heartbeat picked up. And what are you?
Kael placed the blade down slowly. You wouldn't believe me.
Try me.
He studied her face — like weighing whether she was ready for the truth or not. I was one of them, he said finally. A Soulbinder.
Lyra blinked. You? But you said—
I was stripped of it, Kael interrupted. When the Council came, they took our emotions, our memories, our purpose. Turned us into their instruments. I was one of the first.
Lyra's breath hitched. You mean— you worked for them?
I existed for them, he corrected quietly. Until I didn't.
She stared at him, disbelief warring with curiosity. Then how did you— escape?
Kael's gaze dropped to the fire. I remembered one feeling. Just one. Enough to break their hold.
What feeling?
He looked up, eyes catching the flames. Regret.
The word hung between them, heavy as the night air.
Lyra swallowed hard. For the first time, she saw something fragile behind his calm — not weakness, but a kind of haunted humanity.
I think I liked you better when you were just mysterious, she murmured.
Liking is dangerous, he said.
Then it's too late.
The faintest flicker of something — almost a smile — ghosted over his lips before vanishing again.
A sound broke the quiet — faint, metallic, echoing across the vale. Lyra straightened. What was that?
Kael rose instantly, blade in hand. We're not alone.
The sound came again — closer this time. A rhythmic pulse, like machinery beneath the earth.
Lyra's heart raced. Is it the Council?
Kael's eyes darkened. No. Worse.
He moved fast, pulling her behind one of the crumbled pillars. The ground trembled slightly beneath their feet. From the direction of the aether stream, a shape began to emerge — tall, skeletal, glinting silver under the moonlight.
It moved like a man but with a strange, jerking precision. Its eyes glowed with a dull blue fire.
What is that? Lyra whispered.
An Echo, Kael said. A remnant of what the Council made me.
The creature turned its head, scanning the ruins. Its voice was mechanical, distant.
Target Kael Thorne. Status defective. Directive retrieve.
Lyra's eyes widened. It knows your name—
Stay behind me, Kael said sharply.
He stepped forward as the Echo lunged. Metal clashed with steel, sparks scattering into the air. The impact sent vibrations through the stone. Kael moved with impossible speed — precise, efficient — but the Echo matched him blow for blow.
Lyra's instincts screamed. Power surged inside her chest, light flaring at her fingertips. She aimed her hand — not sure what she was doing — and released it.
A wave of golden fire burst forth, slamming into the Echo. The creature screamed — a horrible, metallic wail — and collapsed, smoking.
Lyra fell to her knees, trembling. I didn't mean to—
Kael caught her shoulders, steadying her. You did fine.
She looked up at him, panting. It was going to kill you.
I know.
Then why do you sound calm?
Because that wasn't the last one.
Her heart dropped. What?
Kael turned toward the dark horizon. In the distance, several faint blue lights flickered — moving closer.
Lyra's stomach twisted. How many?
Kael's blade glinted as he drew it again. Enough to burn the night.
He glanced back at her, voice low. If they find me, they'll take you too. Do you understand?
Lyra nodded shakily. Then we fight.
His gaze lingered on her — steady, unreadable, almost protective. You shouldn't have to.
I'm not a child, Kael.
No, he said softly. You're something far more dangerous.
The blue lights grew brighter, the sound of mechanical steps echoing through the Vale. Lyra's pulse thrummed with fear and fire.
She met his eyes. Then let's show them how dangerous.
Kael gave a short nod. The night around them shimmered, filled with the hum of approaching death.
And then — silence.
Just before the first Echo reached the ridge, Kael whispered, almost to himself,
This time… I won't run.