Lyla stared at him for a long moment. This was not how she envisioned the conversation going. She adjusted in her seat.
"I…"
"She doesn't have to show us, Idiot," Mor said, catching her discomfort
"Luckily, I said me," he smiled
"Quite it, Felix," Lucien said, but his eyes on her, "don't you know a Projector is most in danger when projecting. If Laura here projects, she leaves her body unprotected with strangers."
Lyla met the arrogant spark in his eyes, unfazed. She will not let him scare her, even if he is right. The two stared at each other for seconds, and Lucien's eyes flared with delight. A cough sounded, but neither looked away.
Lucien was the first to relent, smirking before turning to his friends.
"Aah, that was not awkward at all," Felix said, and that was the end of both topics.
Both guests left after some random chat, and Lucien went back to his room without a word. Left alone, she decided to do what she had wanted for months: bask in the glory of the night.
She tilted her head back, breath catching as the night unfurled above her – black velvet scattered with shimmering stars and a full moon. The sky felt alive, vast and infinite, a feeling she might have forgotten. The night's cool breeze carried scents of the earth, leaves, and flowers around her, and as it blew on her ears, it whispered wonders and promises carried from far.
She lifted her arm to the sky, seeming a hand reach away. She couldn't help but smile at the beauty before her; time itself felt suspended, and all she could feel was awe–pure, quiet, soul-deep awe.
Lucien had snuck past the open door and was now staring down at the lady who seemed to be in a world of her own. Her eyes sparkled with joy, a smile of contentment gracing her luscious, full lips. Beautiful – absolutely, devastatingly beautiful
He had been stunned when he first saw her, and when she had turned ready to face off with him, that fire in her eyes had him forgetting she was an intruder for a second
"Isn't it beautiful?" the woman, sitting on the steps, asked, still looking at the sky.
She had heard him then, and he had been foolishly gawking at her
"Yes," he said, his eyes still on her
She turned to look up at him, "You must be used to this," she said, almost embarrassed. "Do you ever wish to see the sun?"
"I have thought about it."
"Do you think you will?"
"No"
"You don't think things might change."
"Like Luminara letting us in?
"No, I mean for day and night to be normal like long ago."
He tilted his head to the side, "Do you mean the prophecy about some being saving us from impending danger and restoring the world?" Humour laced his words
"You don't believe in the chosen."
"I don't know about some chosen, but if it's real, then they're too late. This world is fucked up, and if they do manage to save it or whatever, it will never be normal. Too much hate has already festered between the two sides," he paused, "if I were you, I wouldn't waste my time dreaming." With that, he went back in
*
He had not sent a single word to her the next day, and Lyla had chosen to do the same. Although she had wandered as she lay in bed last night, what would he say if he knew she was the chosen one he didn't believe in? He would probably laugh on her face
The day passed silently, her chores taking a good part of her time, though she did spare some locked in her room, training her magic. It had replenished quite well, enough for her to do what she had been thinking throughout the day, so after Mor had briefly dropped by to give her a couple of clothes, heavens bless her soul, she settled herself on the bed and closed her eyes.
Lyla inhaled a deep breath before willing her consciousness out of her body. It had been second nature, the gift she used easiest.
She pictured the mansion, every entry, every room, and corridor, then she thought of the Keeper's private library where the woman spent most of her time. She pictured herself there, back in those familiar walls.
Her conscious moved between time and space, aware of every sound and presence, floating and drifting towards where she wanted to be
She hoped to reach the Keeper, to let her somehow know that she was okay, and to know what happened after she left.
She came to a stop, and what she expected to be a warm room with stacks of books was a wall of mist and crackling power; The Wall.
She tried again, but she couldn't move; it was as if something was blocking her way, preventing her from going further. She had enough sense to know what it was, the barrier now standing before her. Still, she tried, and this time, as though it had had enough of her futile attempts, it shoved her.
It was like being punched in the gut, air whooshed from her, and she was thrown back, slipping and falling further and further until she woke up with a jolt, heaving and coughing, trying to get air into her dry lungs.
"What the fuck!" a familiar deep voice spoke
Lucien stood beside her, alarm written on his face. How long had he been here?
"What happened?" he demanded. She didn't answer.
"What happened?" he asked again, his tone a clear indication that he expected an answer immediately.
"I… I wanted to see if I could reach anyone on the other side."
"You were projecting," it was more of a statement.
She still nodded, "I couldn't."
"Why?"
"I guess I'm not strong enough," she lied.
"That was stupid," he said, leaving.
It was, she knew it. She had left herself vulnerable; he could have easily killed her, and anyone could have entered the house and done it.
She found him sitting on the couch, ten minutes later, with a beer at hand. He didn't so much as look in her direction.
She had changed into leggings and an oversized t-shirt from the clothes Mor had brought, and she almost sighed at the comfort she had missed. The fashion in Luminara consisted mostly of dresses for women, and although some wore pants, she had only worn dresses, except for loose pants when training. She didn't mind, but…this felt right.
Lyla exited the house. She had decided to take a jog to clear her mind and possibly head to the wall. Marking the way as she went, she soon found herself before it. She walked to the same spot she had been brought through, still no way. It wasn't like she expected to find one, but it was worth a try.
Looking around, she risked it and summoned her creation magic. Her suspicions were right; the wall was somehow interfering with magic when one was too close. No one had ever told her of this, although she supposed no one would be stupid enough to get close and test out their magic.
Lyla bathed in the quiet of the trees as she jogged back, allowing her thoughts to calm, her feet against the forest floor the only sound.
Without warning, a crack echoed, and she skidded to a stop heart slamming against her ribs.
A massive figure burst from the trees – all muscle and shadow, its eyes gleaming with something primal. It stood directly in her path, silent and unblinking, all its focus on her.