Lyra tried to push the gates closed as the elemental Essentia surged through her body. The vortex that was trying to escape was more robust than the previous ones she had closed.

Her grandfather had warned her the Rifts would grow more robust as they were attracted to negativity. Humans had plenty of it, and Veilspawns wanted to feed off of it.

Eamon burst through with power that made Lyra snap her head up. There was no Wellspring Essentia fused with his weapons or in him; it was just his natural aura. He charged for the Veilspawn with a war-like cry and bashed it several times until it exploded.

He dodged out of the way with timed precision as a claw headed for him. Two Veilspawns charged him for a two-chained attack.

Eamon crossed the metal sticks together in a defensive stance, parrying the creature's blows. The residual effect caused the animals to stagger, giving Eamon enough time to bash them out of existence until there was none left.

He ran over to Lyra and helped her close the door to the Rift until it shut completely.

“Lyra, now!”

Lyra nodded. She backed up a few inches in front of the door and stretched out her palm, chanting the incantation to seal the Rift: From darkness bound, to the light we’re sworn, by Lumos’ grace this Rift be sewn.

A brilliance of power shot up from the ground, and gold sparks of light surrounded Lyra. It blew her hair back as she could feel the calming sensation of the Wellsprings power coming to her aid. From her palm, that same Wellspring powers shot out in a beam of light and trapped it within its glow, making it easier for Eamon to shut the door completely.

Lyra cheered with excitement. Though Eamon had less excitement as he brushed himself off.

“We shouldn’t celebrate too soon. You never know what enemies could be waiting for when your guard is down.”

Lyra rolled her eyes. She let out a grumble. “This is not a battlefield. Locksmiths close Rifts. Closing the Rifts ends the existence of all the spawns attached to it. If you had never left, you would have remembered that.”

Eamon pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to start another argument. “It doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

She shook her head. “I’m walking back.” Leaving Eamon behind.

Lyra removed her Vox Link, a long rectangular device used to communicate via messages via a beacon tower with a limited call feature. Though the range wasn’t far, it became one of the most famous inventions once people started to get used to it.

She groaned.

There were a few missed calls and dozens of messages from her mother. She called her back, and her mother picked up just as Eamon called her name.

“Lyra Ashbourne,” her mother’s stern tone said into the device. “Was that a man’s voice I heard? Where are you, young lady?”

Lyra glared at Eamon, who jogged beside her with a confused look and then mouthed, ‘Sorry.’

She shook her head. “It’s nothing, Mom, just someone passing by. I was helping Grandpa this morning.”

Lyra could hear the hospital and staff in the background, followed by static from Voxlink's internal system.

“We do not leave at dawn without telling me or doing any chores.”

“Ma, you know I go to Grandpa’s all—”

“Lysandra.” Lyra flinched when her mother used her full name. “Do you hear what I’m saying? There is too much going on in this country, and I need to know your whereabouts.”

She sighed softly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. I’ll be doing an overnight shift, so you must find something for dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said again. The call ended shortly after. Lyra tucked the device back into the pockets of her loose-fitting linen breeches.

“Did I…get you in trouble?” Eamon whispered, concerned etched across his furrowed brows and pursed lips.

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She shook her head. “Nope, Mom is always like this.”

“How so?” he asked as they walked side by side down the hill of the forest.

Lyra looked at him from the corner of her eye. “Sometimes she can be a bit smothering, if not demanding. I know she’s my mom; I respect and love her, but she only sees what she wants to see. She doesn’t even know I’m a Locksmith.”

Eamon hummed, nodding. “I do think I remembered something like that. Ms. Edie, right? She was annoyed that she saw you holding my Escrima sticks once.”

Lyra gaped at him in astonishment. “Oh, wow you remember that?” She chuckled. “I was eight then, and I think you were twelve?”

He chuckled. “Eleven. I’m surprised you remember; it was so long ago.”

They left the mouth of the forest and headed back to town.

“I have a pretty good memory. Plus, being in this town since you were little, nothing much has happened here. Don’t get me wrong, it’s amazing and serene here, but I think about the rest of Aurum, exploring and defending it from Rifts.”

She looked peaceful as Eamon watched her look up at the sky. Her broad and eager eyes were hopeful and full of wonder. He vaguely remembered being that way, but it all faded when he joined the Empire.

“I know what you mean by that. Memories flood back to me from when I was a child. It’s strange, though.”

Lyra’s brow raised. “Why?”

Eamon’s eyes drooped low. “Because those child-like memories feel alien in this body.”

Lyra looked at him and wondered what he really had gone through and seen all those years ago.

She stopped walking. Eamon did, too.

“Lyra? What’s wrong?”

“Come to the lake and train with me. You heard my mom, she’ll be working late, and we were interrupted earlier. You were pretty handy with those Escrima blades.”

Eamon grinned, rubbing the back of his head. “Sure, why not.” Taking her up on the offer and headed the opposite way of town.

•†•

The two trudged up the hill to the lakeside, where a glistening crystal lake spread toward them. Eamon stared in awe; he had forgotten how beautiful the lake was since he had left. Even the forest trees in the background complimented the surrounding area.

“Wow…” he breathed out, his jaw agape.

Lyra peered at him with a grin. His stunned look made him look almost normal, and she almost forgot that he had gone to the Empire. Her thoughts, however, changed to panic and concern when she saw his eyes getting teary-eyed.

“Eamon? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Eamon blinked a few times with furrowed brows.

“What? Of course, I’m okay.” he touched his cheeks and peeled his fingers away to see his fingertips wet with tears. “Why am I crying?”

“That’s what I would like to know, too,” Lyra said, her arms crossed. She waited for him to reveal whatever it was he thought about. “You can tell me anything, you know. Even if we haven’t seen each other since we were kids, it doesn’t mean I won’t lend an ear.”

He parted his lips to speak. She thought he would come clean and tell her, but he smacked his lips closed. Lyra mentally rolled her eyes and huffed under her breath.

“Come on, let’s practice a little further uphill.”

They made their way to the large tree on the hill, where a gigantic tree sat overlooking the lake.

“Wait, is that the same Elms tree we used to play on?” Eamon gaped at the oversized tree. “Didn’t we carve our names here? Where is it?”

Lyra grinned. She squinted her eyes and pointed several feet off the ground where a sixth branch was located. “Somewhere up there. It’s grown exceedingly tall since you left. I saw it once while climbing a few years ago, but then I lost my footing and broke my arm into a few different places.”

Eamon hissed. “Ouch, why were you climbing up there anyway?”

Her face flushed red. She wasn’t about to tell him that every year or two, she’d climb that tree in hopes that she would see him walking back home again. This year, she had sworn that she wouldn’t climb up the tree again because she was tired of waiting for someone who had left of his own free will.

“It’s nothing. You ready to spar?”

She was removing Riftblade from her back and standing in a fight stance.

Sensing that she didn’t want to continue talking, he removed his Escrima sticks from their sheath and readied himself into a stance.

“Your move first.”

“How kind of you, Soldier Boy.”

Lyra charged forward with incredible speeds that Eamon didn’t realize until she was on top of him. He caught her by surprise and blocked her slash attack. The two metals rang together as they collided with ferocity.

“Ah, crap. That’s hard-hitting.” Eamon shook his hand, freeing the stinging sensation in his palm.

“What can I say,” Lyra shrugged. “I know how to maneuver it.” She retorted back at his comment from yesterday.

“Touché.” He grinned.

The two of them continued their onslaught of attacks. Sometimes, one would come in and charge with a sneak attack, while the other parried and stayed on the defensive side. They were evenly matched, matching each other’s speed and rhythm. It was almost in sync with how well the two moved together. They could read their movements and counteract as if they were reading each other’s minds.

It was rare for two locksmiths to be in tune with each other as if they were one person. Only two other people had that skill: Ealdred Ashbourne, the Sentinel Riftbreaker, and The Rosevera Whip. It was even rarer not only to have that skill alone but also to excel and perfect it without Kesync.

The two of them breathed heavily as they took a break. They eyed each other, panting, with smiles on their faces as the adrenaline fueled them.

“You’re not half bad,” Lyra said, leaning against her sword. She swiped at her brow to avoid sweat from dropping into her eyes.

“I was going to say the same,” Eamon replied. He was crouched on one knee as he took deep breaths to get his breathing back to normal.

No one broke eye contact. Staring at the other as if to see who would strike first. Twenty minutes passed when they both said simultaneously: “Break?”

They collapsed in the cool grass underneath their tree, with their chests beating wildly and laughter spilling from their lips. The two enjoyed the other’s company, letting the day pass over them as the sun dipped below the clouds.