Meeting Eira
The cavern was eerily quiet as Eira began the twins’ training. Her methods were ruthless, designed to push them to their limits and beyond. Eryon was forced to remain in his wolf form for hours, his body trembling with exhaustion as he clawed at the stone floor.
“Again,” Eira commanded, her tone devoid of sympathy.
Eryon growled, his massive form sagging as he tried to rise. “I can’t,” he rasped, his voice distorted by his transformation.
“You can,” Eira said coldly, stepping closer. “You must. Strength doesn’t wait for convenience. It doesn’t care if you’re tired.”
Nearby, Lyra sat cross-legged, the artifact glowing faintly in her lap. Eira had instructed her to channel its power, to harness its whispers and turn them into action. But the more Lyra focused, the louder the whispers became, drowning out her thoughts and filling her with unease.
“I don’t understand,” Lyra said, her voice tight with frustration. “How am I supposed to control this?”
Eira’s silver eyes flicked toward her, sharp and unyielding. “You don’t control it. You guide it. Power doesn’t bow to the weak—it answers to those who command it.”
Lyra’s hands trembled as she tightened her grip on the artifact. Its energy pulsed erratically, feeding on her doubt. “And what if it destroys me?”
Eira smiled faintly, her gaze calculating. “Then you weren’t meant to wield it.”
Seraphine, who had been watching silently from the edge of the cavern, stepped forward. Her expression softened as she knelt beside Lyra, her hand resting on her daughter’s shoulder.
“You’re stronger than you think,” Seraphine said gently. “I know this is hard, but I’m doing this for you—for both of you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Lyra looked up at her, her silver eyes filled with doubt. “Are you sure this is the only way?”
“It’s the only way to survive,” Seraphine replied firmly.
Eira, standing behind them, smirked as the artifact’s glow intensified, bathing the room in an eerie light. “Soon, you’ll be unstoppable,” she said softly.
Eryon, finally managing to rise, growled low in his throat. “Then let’s finish this,” he said, his amber eyes blazing with determination.
Lyra’s hands tightened around the artifact as its whispers grew louder, their voices forming a single, haunting phrase: “Power demands sacrifice.”
