Chapter 2: The Burden of Truth

The moon hung high in the sky, its silver light spilling through the dense canopy of trees. Lyric Ardyn sat on a moss-covered log in the heart of the forest, the Scroll of Truth resting beside him. He stared at the glowing artifact, its golden light faint yet persistent, casting long shadows over the fallen leaves.

The weight of the day pressed heavily on his chest. His village, his family, his life—everything he’d ever known—was gone. He ran a hand through his dark, tangled hair, feeling the sting of unshed tears. But crying now wouldn’t change anything. He had to focus on what his father had asked of him.

“Seek the Watchers. Protect the scroll.”

The words felt more like a curse than a mission.

He glanced at the scroll again, its glow almost taunting him. “What’s so special about you?” he muttered, his voice cracking in the quiet night. “Why did you have to destroy everything I had?”

Of course, the scroll didn’t answer. But Lyric swore the light flickered, almost as if it were alive. He frowned and reached for it hesitantly.

Before he could unroll it, a soft crunch of leaves behind him froze him in place.

“Don’t unroll it too far.”

The voice was calm, but it carried an edge of authority. Lyric spun around, his heart pounding. His fingers instinctively gripped the scroll tighter, ready to defend it.

From the shadows emerged a woman. Her cloak was dusty and worn, and her boots were caked with mud. She had green eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness, and her auburn hair was tied back, revealing a face hardened by experience.

“Who are you?” Lyric demanded, taking a step back.

The woman raised her hands in a gesture of peace. “My name is Erynn. I’m here to help you.”

“Help me?” Lyric’s voice rose, his fear turning into anger. “Where were you when they burned my village? When they killed everyone I loved?”

Erynn flinched but held his gaze. “I wish I could have been there sooner. I really do. But you’re alive, Lyric, and that means your father succeeded. He protected the scroll—and you. That’s what matters now.”

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Lyric’s chest heaved as he tried to calm himself. His father’s dying words echoed in his mind, but the pain was too fresh. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t,” Erynn said plainly. “But if I wanted to hurt you or take the scroll, I would’ve done it already.”

That wasn’t exactly reassuring, but she had a point.

“What do you want?” Lyric asked, his voice quieter now.

“To help you,” Erynn said again, stepping closer. “The empire won’t stop until they have the scroll. You’re not safe here. If you want answers, you’ll have to come with me.”

Lyric hesitated. The logical part of him knew she was right—he couldn’t stay in the forest forever, not with imperial soldiers hunting him. But every instinct screamed at him not to trust her.

“What’s so important about this scroll?” he asked, testing her.

Erynn’s eyes flicked to the glowing artifact. “It holds the truth,” she said simply. “A truth the empire has been hiding for decades. If it were to come to light, it could bring their entire regime to its knees.”

Lyric blinked. “You expect me to believe that?”

“You don’t have to believe me,” she replied. “But your father did. And he gave his life to protect it.”

That hit harder than Lyric expected. His fists clenched at his sides as he looked down, his voice barely a whisper. “Where are we going?”

“To a safe house,” Erynn said. “It’s not far. From there, we’ll figure out our next steps.”

Lyric glanced at the scroll one last time before slinging it over his shoulder. He didn’t trust her, not fully, but what choice did he have?

“Fine,” he said. “Lead the way.”

---

The forest was eerily quiet as they walked. The only sounds were the crunch of leaves beneath their boots and the occasional hoot of an owl. Lyric kept stealing glances at Erynn, trying to read her.

“So,” he said eventually, breaking the silence. “How do you know my father?”

“He was one of us,” Erynn said without looking back.

“One of who?”

“The Watchers,” she explained. “We’re an order dedicated to uncovering the empire’s lies and protecting the truth.”

Lyric frowned. “Why didn’t he ever tell me?”

“Because he wanted to keep you safe,” Erynn said. “Being a Watcher is dangerous. Your father knew that better than anyone.”

Lyric’s mind swirled with questions. His father—a Watcher? It didn’t make sense. The man who taught him how to mend fences and plant crops didn’t seem like the kind of person to take on an empire.

“Why me?” Lyric asked after a moment. “Why couldn’t he just give the scroll to someone else?”

Erynn stopped walking and turned to face him. Her green eyes softened, and for the first time, Lyric saw a flicker of sympathy in them.

“Because he trusted you,” she said gently. “And because he knew you’d do what’s right.”

Lyric opened his mouth to argue but closed it again. He wasn’t sure he believed her, but the thought of his father’s faith in him was enough to keep him moving.

---

By the time they reached the safe house, the first light of dawn was breaking through the trees. The building was little more than a dilapidated cabin, its roof sagging and its walls covered in moss.

“This is it?” Lyric asked skeptically.

“It’s not much,” Erynn admitted, pushing open the creaky door. “But it’s safe.”

Inside, the cabin was surprisingly well-stocked. There was a table cluttered with maps and papers, a fireplace with a pot hanging over it, and a corner filled with weapons and supplies.

Erynn gestured for Lyric to sit. “Rest. We’ll talk more after you’ve eaten.”

Lyric sat down reluctantly, his stomach growling as Erynn placed a bowl of stew in front of him. The warm, savory smell reminded him of his mother’s cooking, and for a moment, he let himself savor it.

As he ate, Erynn leaned against the wall, watching him. “The journey ahead won’t be easy,” she said. “The empire is relentless, and they’ll stop at nothing to get the scroll. But you’re not alone, Lyric. You have the Watchers now.”

Lyric looked up at her, his spoon pausing mid-air. “And what exactly do the Watchers expect me to do?”

“Survive,” Erynn said simply. “For now, that’s enough.”

Her words were meant to comfort him, but they only added to the weight on his shoulders. Lyric didn’t feel like a hero or a savior. He was just a boy trying to make sense of a world that had been torn apart.

As the fire crackled and the forest outside began to stir with the sounds of morning, Lyric leaned back in his chair. He didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was certain: he couldn’t turn back now.

The truth was out there, hidden within the glowing scroll, and it was up to him to uncover it—no matter the cost.