Kael's legs felt like lead. His chest burned. His fingers still trembled from the fight. He had survived, but barely.
The alley was quiet now, not the suffocating, world-swallowing silence from before, but the kind of quiet that comes after chaos, when everything holds its breath.
Lyra crouched beside him, brushing dirt from her sleeves. Her bow rested across her knees, glowing faintly. "You're lucky he didn't finish it."
Kael blinked, still dizzy. "Lucky? That guy… he" His voice cracked. "I didn't even do anything."
Lyra's gaze softened for a fraction of a second, then hardened again. "You did something. Something rare." She didn't say more, but her eyes lingered on him in a way that made him shiver.
Kael's mind replayed the fight over and over. The black-armored man had come like a storm, a crushing wave of sound. Kael had tried to echo the noises he'd seen around him, fire, wind, even stone, but it hadn't worked. Not really. And then… something had happened.
A pause. A flicker. A moment where the sound didn't exist. Not echoes, not music, not laughter. Nothing.
Kael shook his head. "It's nothing. I'm nothing. Just a street performer with a broken echo."
Lyra's lips pressed into a thin line. She studied him for a long moment, then reached into her satchel and pulled out a small, silver flute. The metal gleamed faintly in the dim light.
"This," she said softly, "is for you."
Kael stared. "A flute?"
She nodded. "It will help you… control what you don't understand yet."
He laughed bitterly, almost choking on it. "Control? I can't even echo properly. And now you give me a flute. What am I supposed to do with it? Make the world stop breathing?"
Her eyes narrowed, and for a heartbeat, Kael thought she might snap at him. But she didn't. She leaned closer, voice quiet. "I didn't give this to you to save you… not yet. I gave it to see what you can do."
Kael's stomach dropped. "See what I can do?"
Lyra didn't answer. Instead, she glanced toward the alley entrance, her expression unreadable. "You need to learn control. Now, or they'll find you. And when they do…" She trailed off, but Kael didn't need her to finish. He knew.
The black-armored knight wasn't just anyone. He was part of something bigger. Something dangerous. The Dissonance Cult.
Kael pressed the flute to his lips almost without thinking. He didn't play, he barely knew how, but a note slipped out. Faint. Almost nothing. Yet for a split second, he felt the world pause again.
Lyra's eyes widened. "Yes… that's it. That's what I wanted to see."
Kael dropped the flute, shaking his head. "I don't understand. I can barely echo, and now you say I'm special?"
"Not special," she said, picking up the flute and handing it back. "Dangerous. You have a power even the strongest Harmonics fear. But it's raw, untrained. And right now, it's uncontrolled."
Kael's stomach churned. He wanted to argue. He wanted to run. He wanted to cry. He did all three at once, collapsing onto the floor with the flute clutched against his chest.
Lyra crouched beside him, for the first time letting her face soften. "I'll help you… for now. But know this: if you fail, the world will not forgive you. Not the Harmonics. Not the cult. Not me."
Kael blinked at her, confused and overwhelmed. "Not you?"
She smiled faintly, almost bitterly. "Not yet."
The words settled on him like ice. And for the first time, he realized something he hadn't before: this girl, this noble, hadn't saved him out of kindness. She had saved him because she saw potential. Potential to use. Potential to survive. Potential… to change the world.
He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the weight of it. The echoes in him flickered faintly, tiny shadows of powers he didn't fully understand. They trembled in his chest like scared birds.
A sound from the alley made both of them freeze. Not the knight. Not Lyra's bow or the footsteps of guards. Something deeper, heavier. A horn. Long, low, hollow, vibrating in the air like a warning.
Lyra's eyes sharpened. "They're coming."
Kael's fingers dug into the flute, heart hammering. He didn't know if he could do it. He didn't know if he wanted to. But the echoes stirred again. Tiny, weak, uncertain. But there.
Lyra stood, bow ready. "From here on," she said, voice iron, "you're no longer just a boy with faint echoes. You're a target. And if we don't move now…"
Her green eyes locked onto his. "You won't live long enough to understand what you are."
Kael swallowed, the flute trembling in his hands. He nodded. Not because he was ready, not because he wanted to be. But because he had no choice.
And somewhere deep inside, a tiny, dangerous part of him… wanted to see what he could really do.