A Family Divided
Lyra approached Seraphine’s chambers, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions that swirled like a storm threatening to consume her. The artifact pulsed rhythmically in her hands, its whispers threading through her thoughts like an invasive tide that she couldn’t block out. Each step she took toward the chamber felt like a betrayal of her instincts, yet a small, fragile part of her clung desperately to the hope that Seraphine truly wanted what was best for them—what was best for her and Eryon.
As she pushed the door open, a chill greeted her, making her breath hitch. The room seemed colder than usual, the faint glow of silver light casting long shadows that danced eerily on the walls. Seraphine stood by the window, her silhouette framed by the soft light of the moon. When she turned to face Lyra, her expression softened, a practiced warmth lighting her silver eyes. She held out her hands, her movements slow and deliberate, beckoning Lyra to come closer.
“My love,” Seraphine said gently, her voice imbued with warmth that felt like it could melt even the coldest of doubts. “You’re troubled.”
Lyra hesitated just inside the doorway, her grip tightening on the artifact as though it could anchor her. The pulsing glow lit her face, its energy syncing unnervingly with the rapid beat of her heart. “Why does it feel like this is destroying me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the weight of the question.
Seraphine’s gaze softened further, and she stepped forward with the grace of someone who knew they held control. She placed her hands gently on Lyra’s shoulders, her touch steady and firm. “Because you’re fighting it,” she murmured, her voice as soothing as a lullaby. “The artifact is not your enemy, Lyra. It’s a part of you—a gift meant to elevate you above the lies they’ve told you all your life.”
Lyra turned her head, her silver eyes clouded with doubt as she avoided Seraphine’s gaze. “And Isla?” she asked, her tone hesitant, her words barely cutting through the tension in the room. “Was everything you said about her true? Did she really betray us?”
Seraphine’s warm smile faltered, just for a fraction of a second, before she recovered. She leaned in closer, brushing a strand of hair from Lyra’s face with a gesture that was almost maternal. “Isla was weak,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with bitterness that couldn’t be hidden. “She feared what we could become. Instead of supporting us, she turned her back on you and your brother. On me. She let her fear dictate her actions, and in doing so, she betrayed us all.”
The whispers of the artifact intensified, their murmurings growing louder as if urging Lyra to trust Seraphine, to surrender to the path laid before her. Yet, deep within, something resisted—a flicker of unease that refused to be silenced, no matter how alluring the promises sounded. Lyra swallowed hard, her voice breaking as she asked, “Then why does this feel wrong?”
Seraphine’s silver eyes glinted with an almost maternal sadness, her smile softening as though to comfort Lyra. “Because you’ve been taught to fear your own strength,” she said, her tone low and persuasive, as if confiding a precious secret. “But I see the truth, Lyra. You are destined for greatness. Let go of your doubt, and let me help you realize it.”
The weight of Seraphine’s words pressed heavily on Lyra’s chest, the room seeming smaller with every breath. The artifact pulsed insistently in her hands, amplifying every thought, every emotion, every whisper that tried to drown her doubt. A small part of her—a part she didn’t dare name aloud—still held back, unwilling to leap fully into the abyss Seraphine had created for her.
“I need time,” Lyra whispered, her voice so quiet it almost disappeared into the cold air. She stepped back, putting a small but significant distance between herself and Seraphine.
Seraphine nodded slowly, her smile faint but understanding as though she had expected this. “Take all the time you need, my love,” she said softly, her voice honeyed with reassurance. “Just remember—strength lies in trust. And I will always stand by your side.”
As Lyra turned and walked out of the chamber, the artifact’s whispers continued to hum in her mind, louder than ever. Each step away felt like tearing herself from a web she hadn’t realized she was caught in. Behind her, Seraphine watched in silence, her serene demeanor unwavering, but her silver eyes glinted with an unreadable intensity.
