The rain had a rhythm that night — soft, deliberate, like the pulse of a heart trying not to be heard. It slid down the tiled roofs of the training courtyard, gathered in narrow grooves, and fell from the eaves like beads of glass. Beneath that quiet, Lyra Vintrel sat alone.
Her violet Flow shimmered faintly, a thin halo of warmth against the storm. Each flicker drew the outline of her face, her eyes reflecting the flame's dim light. Around her lay fragments of petals — not real ones, but illusions born from her Flow, dissolving before they touched the ground.
She wasn't meditating. Not really. She was remembering.
Teik had been gone for hours, perhaps days — training under Elder Vairen's unyielding discipline. Arin and Seren had argued about whether to check on him, but Lyra said nothing. She simply watched the rain, her hands resting loosely in her lap.
> He's stronger than they think.
Even if his Flow burns him, he endures.
Her voice trembled softly in her mind. She could still feel the echo of his energy from their last spar — unstable, raw, almost violent. And yet, within that chaos, there was a strange calm — a harmony struggling to form.
When she closed her eyes, she could feel it again — the same strange pull that had existed since the first day they met. His Flow called to hers, resonating like two notes that shouldn't fit but somehow did.
> "You carry something that should have destroyed you," she murmured aloud. "And yet… you live as if it never happened."
A faint smile tugged at her lips. But it faded quickly when a sharp tremor ran through her body. Her Flow flickered, then erupted for a brief moment — a violent burst of violet fire that split the air like a scream.
Her eyes widened as the flames danced upward, taking shape — forming a mark in the air, glowing faintly crimson beneath the purple hue. It pulsed once, twice — then faded into smoke.
Lyra gasped softly, clenching her fist.
She had seen that color before. Not in this life, but in the fragments of memory that haunted her dreams — a flash of a dying world, a loud crack like thunder, and a man with eyes that looked at her through the fire.
And she remembered the sound.
The same gunshot that ended Teik Drayden's life.
The connection chilled her, even though she didn't fully understand it.
Was it coincidence? Or had their fates intertwined long before rebirth?
"Lyra," a voice called.
She turned sharply — Seren Kael stood at the edge of the courtyard, her cloak damp with rain. The shadow-user's calm gaze studied her silently.
> "Still awake?" Seren asked.
"Couldn't sleep," Lyra replied softly.
"You're burning too much essence. You'll collapse if you keep this up."
Lyra nodded faintly, her hands trembling as she suppressed the last traces of her energy. "I'll be fine."
Seren hesitated, her voice dropping lower.
> "You worry about him too much."
The words lingered in the air, sharp as the rain. Lyra didn't respond. She simply turned her gaze back toward the darkness beyond the courtyard.
> "If I didn't," she whispered, "who would?"
Seren left quietly, leaving her to the storm.
Lyra stayed there until the night began to fade, watching the rain fall into the reflecting pools. Her violet flames slowly died out, leaving only her shadow and her thoughts.
When she finally stood, the faint sigil reappeared on her palm — that strange crimson hue that didn't belong to this world. She covered it quickly, eyes heavy with exhaustion.
> "I will protect him," she said quietly. "Even if the truth kills me."
The wind carried her words into the night, and for a brief moment, the rain slowed — as if the world itself was listening.
End of Chapter 20.