1085 CC, The Month of Aquamora, the 10th week of Aquisol

Four days after defeating the Ultimate Magycte Beast, Baal

“Hmm, where is that boy? He's going to miss his coronation,” Ealdred said, shaking his head. “It's not like him to oversleep.”

“No way would he oversleep! He'd be excited about this. I'm sure there's a perfect explanation for this.” Lyra tried to cover for Eamon. She, too, thought it strange, but she wouldn't assume until she knew. “Don't worry. I'll go find him.”

She, however, couldn't find him as quickly as she had thought. She scoured all over Sylvanbrook, including the business district.

“Where could he have gone?” Lyra questioned. She didn't want to cause herself to panic, but a gut-wrenching feeling kept finding its way back to her insides. Everything is fine. He even told me that he'd tell me if something wasn't.

Or would he?

Something about that day when they escaped from the Altar and how he held Aurora– not as if he had procured her to safety, but as if he planned to take her.

She shook her head free of the thoughts. “Stop, you're overthinking again.” She took a deep breath to clear her mind. “Just… think. What would Eamon do in this situation?”

For one, he'd check the perimeter, check. Assess for danger: none, and last…

“The last place you'd look.”

She turned toward the lake where they had recently trained, where a little girl used to climb on a tree and wait for him.

The last place you'd expect to look.

“Eamon?” His name passed her lips when she approached the lake's view. She had thought she was imagining the figure because she still wasn't used to the long, stark white hair, pale complexion, or red eyes that started becoming prominent after the Altar collapsed.

“What are you doing out here?”

He had been looking up at the sky when he turned to her, tilting his head to the side, and smiled at her. Yet, the smile was cold and didn't reach his eyes.

“We should head back. We'll miss our coronation… Eamon?” calling out to him once more with worry.

“I'm glad you made it, Lyra. I know it was selfish to take you away from this moment. It’s a moment you dreamed about forever, yet I wanted us to return here one last time. Where it was the first time we trained, and you kicked my sorry butt good.”

She snorted, inching toward him. It was indeed him, even down to his posture, but there was something alien about it.

“Oh, so now you accept the truth,” she teased. He chuckled. It sounded like his laugh, yet she couldn't help but notice the faux tone.

“I guess I'm just appreciating things more, like I should have. I should have appreciated you more and told you how I felt.”

They looked at each other now. They were an arm's length apart, so close that they could touch, but neither did.

It was right, but then Lyra knew something wasn't right.

“...What's this about, Eamon?”

He stared back at her. “I think we both know what this is about.”

She frowned. “You told me everything was okay. That you'd tell me whatever it is. Is this why you wanted me to show up? To reminisce and then leave like it's just another day?”

He didn't say anything.

She gaped at him. “Why can't we just go back into town, rank up like how we trained, and together we take down the Children of Deimos once and for all,” she said. “You don't belong there. Sovran or not, you are still Eamon; that changes nothing.”

He bowed his head. His hands in his pockets. “It changes everything. I am the very thing that we keep away. My whole reason for being was based on a lie. I'm a Dormant shadow for the Children of Deimos, made to be whatever they wanted me to be. I didn't know who I was growing up, but I had Ealdred, yet, despite guidance, I still went to the military to find the answers. Still nothing. I thought if I came back here… there would be answers, but instead, I found a home.”

“Then come back to it…” Lyra pleaded. She was the first to take that step and grabbed his hand. He looked down at their enclosed fingers but didn't move.

“I can't.”

“Tell me why? Because if you say it's because you're tainted, look at the world. It's already tainted for centuries; we're just now about to see it in reality.”

He looked up to meet her expectant gaze. The eyes of someone he had grown fond of and loved.

Those feelings were always there, but he pushed them back. It wasn't Ealdred he had to return to; it was Lyra, so why couldn't he just come home? Be a better and stronger person as a Locksmith.

Because we weren't made to be normal. Only as a weapon.

He forced the other voice from inside him back into his thoughts, the Sleeper version of himself, which Walsh had crafted and created as a humanoid weapon.

“Lyra…” her name fell past his lips. It wouldn't be long before he would take over again. His arms were wrapped around her waist as he pulled her into him.

Warm lips pressed against hers, first inviting; if she'd reciprocate, she melded into him reciprocating the exchange. The kiss became more fluent as their lips molded and tasted the other. Something they had only thought of since meeting again.

They parted from their kiss, breathless, and stayed silent, looking each other in the eye to see who would speak first.

Eamon rested his forehead against hers. His white hair brushed her skin. His eyes closed. He could feel her soft hands against his cheek and chest, and her hands rested in his pockets.

“Do yourself a favor and forget me, Lyra.”

“What?” As if the words he requested were a slap to the cheek.

“I know it is who you are as a Locksmith to protect the people. I would never stop you from doing that. When you take down the Altars and the Children of Deimos… don't save me. I'm not worth it, but… Aurora deserves better.”

Lyra furrowed her brow. Her thoughts proved correct, knowing what he was talking about.

“So, you were trying to take her that day?”

He nodded. Then explained, “I was told to retrieve and return with her, but… I couldn't. She doesn't deserve that life. You can raise and mold her to be the opposite. She still has a chance.”

“What, and you think you don't?” she angrily yelled at him. “That just proves you are worth saving, too. You are a Locksmith like me, and it doesn't matter whether you were raised to be a Sleeper or not; you can still change for the better.”

He pursed his lips together. “Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is I can't be trusted. Not until I find some way to get rid of this other me. If not, I'm glad you will end me when it's over.”

“What? No, Eamon.” She tried to reach out to him, but her movements were slow and sluggish, and her body suddenly tired. “What's… happening to me…” her words slurred as they flapped past her lips.

She lost her footing and fell. Eamon caught her before she hit the ground and hoisted her in his arms. Her body was limp, but she could still feel her head move.

“Eamon… What did you…”

“The Essentia should wear off soon. I figured you'd try to chase after him or change his mind, and he probably would have let you too.”

Lyra’s eyes twitched hearing the lifeless, dry laugh from the Sleeper version of Eamon.

The sorrow in his now red eyes let her know that Eamon was still in there, somewhere, despite the Sleeper version in front of her.

“When we meet again, we will be rivals. Just know I won't make it easy for you or him to get rid of me.”

She tried to grit her teeth. She managed to lift her head and glared at him. She wanted to shout, yell, call him names, hug and hold him. She tried to shake this version out of him and the notion that he was unworthy.

You're stupid if you'd think that would stop me! She spoke through their Kesync, hoping that some part of them remained.

He grinned. She was filled with joy, and her heart skipped a beat, only to drop when she noticed his pursed lips and Void expression were unlike Eamon.

“I knew you'd always find a way, Lyra… Until we meet again, it won't be Eamon you speak to. No, from now on, I'll be who I was made to be–Blackthorn.”

She failed to speak to him. Her lips were unable to produce words, and when she tried to Kesync, through their telepathic bond, she was forcibly pushed out.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Her mind grew hazy and sleepy, and her eyelids closed. She saw the last remnants of Eamon's face before she fell asleep.

Lyra would be tucked in her bed when she woke up.

•†•

It was as if he vanished from out of nowhere.

Lyra looked for weeks straight; she didn't rest or eat—not that she could, especially not without seeing the Void Beast, Baal, or the way Eamon looked when the Truth was revealed that he was a Homunculus–a weapon for the Empire–and the Dormant Shadow, Blackthorn, that controlled his body.

His Dormant was the cause of the Veilfall tragedy, a catastrophic event that killed hundreds of people. Eamon was a victim of The Children of Deimos, and his so-called family– the ones Lyra had come to know as Grace and Anthony–betrayed and lied to not only Eamob but her grandfather and all the people of Sylvanbrook who had taken them in.

Even though her heart clenched at the things he had kept secret, she couldn't shake the Eamon she knew. There was no way he had pretended and wormed his way back into their good graces. She was sure of that.

Sly returned to Ledel to warn the Mayor of what had happened in hopes of remedying the situation.

Cassandra and Tierney had stayed in Sylvanbrook to help with the search but, like Lyra, found nothing.

That left Alivier and Malakyh. Both had gone their separate ways, leaving to their own devices.

As Walsh said, the Curse had only reached the Lysandrian Kingdom. It would continue producing Ethereal Rifts morphing Fiends and Veilspawn.

It would cover the rest of the regions soon.

The removal of the Altars was necessary and detrimental to Aurum's survival.

Destroy the Altars and continue the Astral Contracts Curse, or leave the Altars alone. Aurum will continue to be affected, plunging back into the dark ages of the Primal Chaos Era.

There was no way around it.

Lyra didn't know what to do and was out of answers. The only thing she could ask had been weighing in the back of her mind for the last few days that made the least amount of sense.

Walsh had mentioned her father.

How did he know him? Was it a part of his Locksmith duty? They had clashed before, so he wasn't working with him. None of it made any sense, and it frustrated her.

So she had to ask the one person who might have known precisely what Arcemedus Ashbourne had been investigating during his time as a Locksmith.

Her grandfather and Master: Ealdred Ashbourne, Arcemedus’ father.

“Lyra… I didn't expect you to be visiting today. Weren't you and Cassandra supposed to be…” Ealdred didn't finish his sentence.

Every time he mentioned Eamon, he'd choke up. Lyra had revealed the truth to him a few weeks ago; her grandfather said nothing. He had been silent for two days after that, apologized, and said that the revelation had shocked him because he had opened his arms to his parents, who had been a natural part of the community.

Lyra could understand the betrayal of being lied to and used.

“I had a bit of time, Master. I wanted to ask you something.”

Ealdred nodded. He ushered Lyra inside the guild. It was still early so that no one would be in the guild for several hours. They left for his study.

“What is it, Lyra? Are you well? Have you heard back from Sly?”

Lyra shook her head. “No, none of that. It's something that scientist Walsh had told me… about my father.”

She watched her grandfather's facial features to see if he would shut down again or push her away. His eyes were steady, not dilated or unfocused.

She continued, “He spoke of him like they had met and even interacted. Maybe they had a confrontation with each other?”

He hummed. “I see, “he said, sitting as he listened to her. And you want to know if I knew about his missions?”

Lyra bobbed her head. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but having some answer was better than not knowing.

“I'm afraid I don't know much, Lyra.” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. He often did this when the topic of his son came up and the matter surrounding his death. “We didn't get into detail on his missions. He told me things here and there, where he was located, but not all the always.”

Lyra pursed her lips, looking down at the floor. “So… either the guilds know more than you do since they assigned cases to him, and they were on a need-to-know basis, or…”

She didn't want to say the obvious answer they were all thinking.

“...He was investigating something that wasn't authorized by the guild.” Ealdred finished her sentence.

Arcemedus' death was never talked about. He had been a respectful Locksmith, but there was a reason why people only referred to Ealdred when they heard Ashbourne. Whatever he had gotten into was not on the public's radar, so many thought he retired and went on with a simple life.

“I'm sorry I couldn't be of more use to you, Lyra. I know things have been hard on you.”

Lyra bit back the frustration and tears. She hated being kept in the dark and not knowing things.

“I'm just finding things difficult, that’s all.” Lyra shrugged. “I thought it would be worth a try to ask.”

She turned to leave, but Ealdred called her back, worried about her state.

“If you need anything, Lyra, you can tell me.”

She nodded. “I know. I'm just going to take it easy.”

Ealdred nodded and let her go.

It was a small lie but necessary because he already had much to handle. Lyra decided to head to the lake—hoping he would be there again.

But not this time.

She came up to the lake's view. It was beautiful, as always, but she wasn't filled with awe and tranquility right now.

Lyra walked up the hill. She sat down on the soft ground, the grass tickling her skin. Her back rested on the trunk of the tree.

“When we meet again, we will be rivals. Just know I won't make it easy for you or him to get rid of me.”

She gritted her teeth as the memories of that day replayed in her mind.

She had been helpless then but wouldn't let The Children of Deimos, Blackthorn, or the Curse think she was weak.

She had to keep fighting.

•†•

The 1st day of the month of Ventura, 1085 CC

“So that's it?” Cassandra’s golden flux hair loosely hung over her shoulders. She chastised Lyra as she was packing a bag.

“Yup,” was all she said.

Cassandra's blue eyes scrutinized Lyra’s back. She sighed. “I can't let you do this, Lyra.”

The time of passing since the incident was two weeks ago when everything had changed.

Lyra, too, sighed and closed her bag. She had been thinking about her decision and what to do next. “I know you're worried about me, Cassandra, but you didn't see it. Him. It was like he was two different people–he technically is two people.”

Cassandra frowned, seeing the torn and weary look on her tawny brown complexion and dark brown eyes. She could see the tired lines underneath and knew she hadn't slept.

Barely anyone was getting sleep. The world has slowly changed since the rise of the Harmony Tax. It was used at first to “unify” people after years of abuse from the previous Chancellor, Price Regnor. But now the current Chancellor, Viktor Radovinov, was starting to show its true colors.

Now, the aftermath of the curse was on the rise as well. The results were of the combined negativity from both the past and present to reawaken greater evils that were creating Altars.

“You've been looking for him for over a month with no new leads. Everyone's worried about you: your mom, your grandfather, Aurora. What if he–”

“Don't say it, Cassandra.” Lyra snapped at her. “Don't say ‘he doesn't want to be found.’ You didn't see the look in his eyes. The desperation and the pleading way he wanted me to give up on him and to end him when I find him.”

Lyra shook her head and placed her bag on her back. Cassandra frowned, watching her back as she watched her leave out of the door.

“And what will you do once you find Eamon?”

Lyra stopped halfway out the door.

Eamon. Her partner, her childhood Friend, and… Lyra touched her lips where they had kissed underneath their tree what felt like ages ago. It was where they first trained and rekindled, and… the last time she saw him was when he left for the nefarious group, the Children of Deimos, where he discovered his true origins as a Homunculus weapon.

She swore she'd get him back no matter what.

“No matter what he had done, he's still a Locksmith, and we have a job to do: Save Aurum from the Curse and destroy those Altars, then the Children of Deimos and their master. To do that, I have to bring him home.” Before closing the door behind her.

The town of Sylvanbrook, where Lyra resided and called home, was reasonably large. Though its business district toward the east was the largest of the area, several shops were open in the early morning.

Despite what was happening around Lysandrian Kingdom with the Harmony Tax and the Curse, it couldn't stop some civilians from conducting business—unless another set of Altar-like towers decided to appear somewhere else in Aurum.

Another reason Lyra couldn't sit back any longer.

She walked to the Ashen Vanguard guild on the furthest side of town. It was an organization of gifted individuals called Locksmiths who trained to keep Aurum safe by closing dangerous Rifts or the monstrous Veilspawn or assisting civilians with other tasks.

Opening the doors to the guild, she could hear students training inside. She hoped she wouldn't have to bump into her master and grandfather.

Fortunately, she reached her destination: Eamon's old room upstairs from the guild. It hadn't even been a year, let alone a couple of months, yet it already smelled like him.

“Don't get sidetracked. Just get what you came here for and leave.” Lyra headed for the closet and tucked away in the back was a small chest with his Steel Escrima Sticks.

She stashed them in a sheathe at her side because he would need his weapons when she saw him. But before that, she would bash his head before returning them to him.

Someone cleared their throat, and she saw Ealdred standing outside the door.

“Grandfather, if you're here to stop me like Cassandra, I'll make this quick and say I'm still going. Not even you can stop me.”

On her back, she had her legendary sword, Riftblade, which he passed down from her grandfather.

“And I see you've thought this through?”

Lyra straightened her shoulders and nodded. “Yes, Master. Since these Altars have risen, they'll summon more erratic Fiends and Stronger Veilspawn, and the Great Void Beasts will guard each Altar. Many Citizens and some Locksmiths are still skeptical of all this coming to terms. With Eamon missing… he’s as important to find so we both can end this Curse and start a new life that doesn't have to be tainted by a dark past.”

Lyra masked her emotions as she considered how the Children of Deimos' return last month had changed everything.

“I see, and do you truly think you're alone?”

Lyra wrinkled her brow. “Well, no. I know they're all trying to keep me safe, but I can't sit back and wait to see what happens next. This is my home, and I'm a Locksmith; I won't let it burn to ashes.”

“And you won't be doing that alone.”

Ealdred left the room with a curious Lyra following after him. There was a small crowd of people at the main entrance of the guild.

“W-What's all this?”

She looked at everyone, from Ealdred to Cassandra. “I don't understand… I thought you opposed me going,” she said to Cassandra.

A smile framed her lips as she stepped toward Lyra. “Alone, yes. I never said I wouldn't keep fighting by your side, as will many others, even if some aren't there physically. They are in spirit.”

“But…” Lyra was at a loss for words. Her mind reeled with some response but opted for two words to sum up the weighted feeling in her chest: “Thank you.”

After farewell hugs and pick-me-ups, it was time to leave, except there was a bit of an issue.

A white-haired, red-eyed, tawny, brown-skinned child walked up to Lyra. “I wanna go too! Let me help find Eamon!”

Lyra sighed. Unsure what to do, as she had already been back and forth with Aurora, it had been a stark surprise when they first found her floating in the ocean. She immediately gravitated to Lyra.

However, no one knew where she had come from until the Children of Deimos revealed that Aurora was not only a Homunculus.

They wanted and planned for Lyra and Eamon to find Aurora, team up with Cassandra, and cross paths to enact the Astral Contract.

Even if shutting down the Altars would release the Great Void Beasts and their paths were a part of their grand plan, if Lyra could help it, she didn't want Aurora in any part of this. She'd be safer with her mother and grandfather in Sylvanbrook. Of course, that was better said than done.

A woman with loose afro curls who shared Lyra’s brown shade and eyes approached her and pulled her out of earshot.

“I think you should take her.”

Lyra was baffled that she would agree to that and so quickly.

“Really, mom? I thought you'd be on my side.”

Her mother, Eida, raised a brow. “Mmm, and I remember someone once told me that just because what they think is best doesn't mean that's the path they want to choose.”

Lyra narrowed her eyes. “Hey, wait a minute! Didn't I say something like that? This is really a lesson.”

Eida smiled. “you just have to believe in them. You can't make all life's decisions for them.”

Lyra pouted, defeated by her own words. She sighed. “Fine. I see where you're going with this.” Even though a part of her still wasn't sure, she knew her mom had a point. Otherwise, she would have never left Sylvanbrook in the first place.

She walked back to where she had left Aurora. “Hey, Aurora… why don't we talk for a minute.”

All the while, she smiled; there was still hope, as long as she believed.

I will get you back, Eamon, because I see it in your eyes, she told herself in the darkness of her sleep. You want to be saved. You were right that I'm stubborn and will always find a way to bring you back—because you don't belong there.

You belong here with me. You belong home.

And I'll bring you back alive, no matter what.