Lyra was a blur of motion. She didn't just walk; she vibrated. To Zaryan, watching her was like watching a movie played at ten times the speed.
"Catch!" she shouted—or rather, the sound came out as a sharp, high-pitched chirp.
She flicked her wrist, tossing a small, glowing seed-pod toward him. To Lyra, the throw was perfect. To Zaryan, the seed-pod hung in the air, moving so slowly he could see the microscopic fuzz on its shell. He waited. He counted to ten. Finally, he raised his hand to grab it.
Thwack. The seed-pod didn't hit his hand. It hit the ground.
"Aww! You're too slow!" Lyra complained, suddenly appearing right next to his ear. She was pouting, her arms crossed. "I threw that like... five minutes ago! I even went to pick berries while waiting for you to move your arm."
Zaryan let out a long, heavy breath. "Lyra... in my world, I only just saw you throw it. My body cannot move as fast as your eyes."
"It's okay," she said, her mood shifting instantly—another trait of her fast-paced heart. She sat on the grass, tapping her fingers against her knees in a rhythmic, frantic pattern. "Tell me about your home. Is everyone there like... made of stone?"
Zaryan sat down too, though it took him a few seconds to settle. "It is quiet. It is stable. We value the 'Long View.' My father says that a single decision should take a year to contemplate."
Lyra made a face like she had just swallowed something sour. "A year? I'd be old by then! In my realm, if you don't decide what's for lunch in ten seconds, the birds will have stolen it."
She looked at him, her curiosity burning. "How old are you, Stone-Boy?"
"Eighteen," Zaryan replied.
"Eighteen?" Lyra's eyes widened. "Wow. I'm only thirteen. But... if I stay here talking to you, will I get older than you?"
Zaryan went still. It was the question he had been avoiding since he stepped into the Forest. "I don't know, Lyra. But I have to go back now. If Kavok finds my bed empty, the Sentinels will swarm this woods."
"Go back? But you just got here!" Lyra stood up, her face falling.
"I have been here for two hours," Zaryan said gently.
"Two hours for you," Lyra whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "For me... I've been waiting in this clearing since the sun was at the horizon. I've lived a whole day waiting for your 'two hours' to finish."
Zaryan felt a sharp pang in his chest. He reached out, his hand moving with agonizing slowness, and tucked a wild curl behind her ear. To him, it was a tender gesture. To Lyra, she had to stand perfectly still for nearly a minute just to feel his touch.
"I will come back tomorrow," Zaryan promised. "As soon as the first light hits the Palace spire."
"Promise?
"I promise."
Zaryan turned and began the slow walk back to the Stillwater Realm. To him, the walk took twenty minutes. He reached his room, climbed into bed, and closed his eyes. He slept a deep, dreamless sleep for eight hours.
When he woke up, the sun was hitting the spire. He dressed quickly, heart pounding, and ran back to the Border. He was exactly on time. Not a second late.
He reached the clearing, expecting to see the 13-year-old girl with the teal ribbons.
But the girl standing by the log was different. She was taller. Her ribbons were faded by the sun. Her face had lost some of its childhood roundness, replaced by the sharp, elegant lines of a young teenager.
"Lyra?" Zaryan breathed.
The girl turned. Her eyes were no longer just curious; they were weary.
"You're late," she said. Her voice was deeper, more melodic.
"Late? Lyra, I... I slept for eight hours. I came as soon as I woke up!"
Lyra looked at him, a single tear escaping her eye. "Eight hours for you, Zaryan. But I waited. I came to this clearing every morning. I watched the moon change shapes four times. I celebrated my fourteenth birthday alone under this tree."
Zaryan's blood ran cold. "Fourteen? But... yesterday you were thirteen."
"Yesterday for you," Lyra said, stepping closer. She wasn't a child anymore. She was a girl who had spent two weeks of her life waiting for a man who had only been gone for a nap. "To you, I am a moment. To me, you are an era."
Zaryan realized then that their love wasn't just a fantasy. It was a countdown.