Mira Irithryl

Left alone, I turned back to the bustling kitchen. There was still so much to prepare—after all, this was just breakfast. I didn’t have the ingredients for fancy dishes like Lunar Petal Salad, Crystalbrook Soup, or even Sunblossom Soufflé (though maybe that was for the best with the last one). Still, I had plenty of options on the table... or at least the house.

Although it didn’t sit well with me, it actually worked out well that Lyon found a reason to leave on his own, sparing me from sending him to bring food to Horny—the name always made me smile. What a funny thing to call the friendly Deerhorn, and so ironic in the specific one.

But his absence gave me the space I needed to focus on something far more important: his gift. Just thinking about it made my stomach flutter. I had made things for him before, but this one was different. It was special. And I wasn’t sure how he’d react.

Today marked a full year since he woke up in this house. I still remember the first moment he looked at me, the glimmer of wonder in his eyes, filled with hope and awe. In that fleeting second, he saw me as his mother. He had whispered it in his breath. If only he knew just how much that single word meant to me, how hearing his voice paired with that word filled me with such joy.

An entire year had passed since that moment. So much had changed, it felt like an entire lifetime. From the early days when he barely spoke to me, to the time when he finally opened up, trusting me enough to teach him how to write, how to swim, and so many other things. We had our ups and downs, but this was the best year I could have ever asked for. And today marked the close of one cycle, the beginning of a new one.

The mental timer ringed as did the boiling pods, but before I returned to the kitchen, I approached the piano. I lifted the lid carefully, the sunlight catching on its polished surface and scattering across the room. Nestled inside, hidden beneath the keys, was the core.

I sighed, feeling a small pang of guilt—even more so for letting him find the lotus, knowing it might put him in danger. Still, at least I had a good reason to take his core.

A few weeks ago, he’d found the ‘bracelet’ I’d been working on. Thankfully, it was incomplete, and he didn’t realize its true purpose. But today… today, it would be finished.

With the last piece knitted into place, I wrapped it in the finest fabric I had and hid it back under the piano keys.

Satisfied, I returned to the kitchen and opened the oven. The rich aroma of the cake immediately filled the air, overwhelming everything else. For a moment, I just stood there, breathing it in, before the other smells returned—gentler, blending into a harmonious symphony of scents.

It was time to decorate.

I didn’t have a fancy shaped tin, so the cake was rectangular. I used the flattest, longest pan I could find, giving me plenty of space to work with.

Lyon loved exploring the forest, so I carefully made two thin cuts in the surface, dividing the cake into four equal sections. In each smaller rectangle, I created a rough map of the forest around our home, doing my best with the ingredients I had. Each section represented a different part of the forest.

I stepped back, taking in the design with a small sense of pride.

The upper section was decorated with delicate, sugary blue leaves, blending into the caramel-colored trees on the right, a nod to the swamp. The lower and left areas were glazed in honey, which gave them a warm, golden hue—though I didn’t have enough colorful ingredients to make it more accurate, the honey gave it a vibrant, earthy feel. The middle section remained bare, the perfect spot for the lotus when Lyon returned. It symbolized our home, not in the heart of the forest, but our own special place.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I wiped my hands on my apron and turned to the window. Lyon was still nowhere in sight.

He had been gone for a while now. I tried not to worry, but it was hard not to.

I hadn’t expected him back on the promised hour. The forest was vast, and even with no interruptions, finding the lotus would take him much longer than he himself had realized. Even as an Elemancer of the red stage it simply wasn’t enough.

I let out a small laugh at the thought. Elemancer of the red stage… and not even seven years old.

It was unbelievable to even think about.

Elves were the fastest to awaken, but even by those standards it was unheard of.

The earliest awakening ever recorded was just shy of seven, and Lyon had surpassed that by three whole colors.

Still, out of everything that had happened to him, that was probably the least astonishing.

Meeting and surviving an encounter with a Mythical Creature was on a whole different level of unthinkable. No more than a thousand people throughout all recorded history could claim such a feat, spanning every Kingdom and every epoch. Each of those survivors was immortalized in the Book of Myths, a collection of tales not merely because they were stories of survival—but because surviving an encounter with a creature of legend was nothing short of a myth itself. How fitting.

Yet Lyon… he had done something even crazier.

It wasn’t just that he came face-to-face with a Phoenix—one of the rarest Mythical Beasts, with only three known accounts of such meetings in history. It was what happened afterward that set him apart from even the legendary survivors.

Somehow, Lyon did something no one else had ever done. He read the cryptic message on the ancient ring.

It was impossible. Astonishing. Otherworldly. And yet… it had happened.

The bubbling pot dragged my attention back to the kitchen. As I turned to stir it, a faint tremor ran through the floor, making me pause.

‘An earthquake?’ I blinked, startled.

Earthquakes were rare in these parts. In all the years I’d been living alone, they’d only happened a few times, and even then, it was mostly due to...

Another tremor. Stronger this time.

‘...The UniQue.’

My stomach twisted with unease. I moved quickly, turning off the fireplace and lifting the pot from the flames just to be sure there wouldn’t be any accidents. For a moment, I stood there, hesitating. Then, I grabbed my coat.

This had nothing to do with Lyon… right?

Of course not. Lyon had only just reached the red stage, while the UniQue required someone at least in the orange—and even that was a stretch, especially out here in the middle of nowhere. The more likely explanation was the Darkclaws we’d come across a few weeks back. Maybe they’d gathered their numbers and clash with the Beast, like every other time.

I pulled on the coat, trying to convince myself. ‘Yeah, that’s probably it. No need to panic.’

Still, I couldn’t shake the tightening knot in my chest. If the Darkclaws were involved, Lyon could be in danger. I couldn’t ignore it.

Just as I reached the door, a blinding white light flooded the entire house, making me stumble back. My heart pounded as the brilliance seeped into every crack and corner, so strong, not a single shadow escaped it.

I shielded my eyes, trying to locate the source. Slowly, the light faded, leaving a faint glow that trailed toward the second floor.

The egg.

I turned and saw it—the egg wrapped in the white feather, pulsing softly on the nightstand. The light gradually faded until it was as if nothing had happened. My mind raced, but there was no time to dwell on it.

Whatever that strange light was, it would have to wait.

Lyon could still be in danger.

***

The swamp was silent, too silent. My footsteps sank into the moist earth with a muffled squelch as the trees loomed overhead, their shadows stretching like long fingers. The deeper I ventured, the darker it grew, the sunlight barely piercing through the dense canopy. Little puddles dotted the ground, reflecting the dim light, but they didn’t distract me from my task.

Lyon has to be somewhere here.

I pushed deeper into the thick foliage, scanning every tree, every bush, every shadow. But the further I went without seeing him, the tighter the knot in my chest became. The anxiety gnawed at me, my breath coming quicker with every step. Each glance, each turn, only heightened the sense that something was terribly wrong.

Suddenly, a flash of light pierced the gloom—a light exactly like the one in the house. My heart skipped a beat, and I froze. A moment later, my head spun, and my worries tightened.

‘Lyon...’