The hall felt smaller today. Shadows clung to the walls more tightly, and the air buzzed with tension. Lyra's pulse quickened. She had faced souls of cruelty, regret, and deceit. She had learned that fear came in many forms.
But none had prepared her for this.
The door at the far end of the hall creaked open, and a figure burst through. He was young, barely more than a boy by his appearance, yet every movement radiated danger. His hair was wild, eyes blazing with a reckless fire, and his clothes were torn and dirty, smeared with what might have been mud or blood.
Lyra instinctively stepped back. She had learned to recognise the weight of presence — and this one pressed on her chest like a storm.
"Who are you?" Kaelen asked, his voice calm but cutting through the tension like a blade.
The boy grinned, a crooked, feral smile, and his chest heaved with laughter. "Name's Riven," he said, voice high-pitched but full of energy. "Don't care about your rules. Don't care about your judgments. I'm here to have fun."
Lyra's stomach twisted. Fun? From the looks of him, he seemed more like a tornado than someone who could play games.
---
Riven charged forward, arms flailing, not toward her directly but into the hall as though daring the walls themselves to stop him. He kicked a bench aside, sending it clattering across the floor. The sound echoed like thunder, and Lyra flinched.
"You're too stiff," he shouted over the noise. "Loosen up! Let's see what you've got!"
Kaelen's eyes glimmered from the shadows. "Do not let him distract you. Observe."
Lyra nodded, though her hands shook. He was unpredictable. Every twitch, every shout could spiral into violence. She had learned to read cruelty, but chaos like this? It was alive, untethered.
---
Riven's grin never faded. "You've faced sadists, kings, manipulators… and here I am! The real fun begins now."
Before she could react, he leapt toward the centre of the hall, flipping in a wild arc. He landed with a thud that shook the floor, laughter spilling from his lips like sparks from fire.
Lyra's mind raced. This wasn't about reasoning with him. This wasn't about compassion or debate. This was raw, untempered energy. She had to survive it, keep herself steady.
---
He darted around her, circling like a hawk, eyes alight with mischief. "You think you're ready, little lamb? Think again!"
Lyra's heart pounded. She gripped her fists, remembering Kaelen's lessons. Observe, endure, and learn. He wanted to provoke her. To see her falter.
"You can't scare me," she called, trying to keep her voice steady.
Riven laughed again, bright and loud. "Not scared! Excite! Thrill! You'll learn faster if your heart races. Come on, move! Don't just stand there!"
---
The boy's movements were impossible to predict. He darted from shadow to shadow, kicked up dust, and even swung a broken chair at the far wall. Lyra ducked instinctively, her mind snapping into focus.
"This is chaos," she muttered. "I have to think… fast."
Kaelen's gaze followed every motion, silent but instructive. Lyra realised he was letting her adapt. The lessons were not in stopping Riven, but in surviving him.
---
Riven slowed for a moment, crouching low. "Ah, you're learning," he said with a sly grin. "Good instincts. Don't let your fear chain you. Move with me. Move like the storm, not against it."
Lyra swallowed. She had no choice. She shifted her weight, moving cautiously, letting his unpredictable path guide her. Every jump, every kick, every erratic movement tested her reflexes. She felt the thrill of it, the pure adrenaline, and somehow she balanced it with the fear gnawing at her chest.
---
"You're getting better!" Riven shouted, clapping his hands in delight. "I like that! Fire in your eyes! You've got spirit, little lamb!"
Lyra's breath came fast, sweat running down her temples. She realised something — Riven's chaos was a mirror. The more she let panic take hold, the more he thrived. The steadier she became, the less control he had.
"I won't let you control me," she said, feeling her resolve harden.
---
Riven's grin faltered, replaced by a look of curiosity. "Interesting," he said, tilting his head. "Most crumble under me. Most break. You… resist. That's rare."
Lyra's chest heaved. She took a step forward, planting her feet firmly. "I endure, and I survive. That's the only way to learn."
Riven laughed, the sound high and unrestrained, but there was admiration in it now. "Ah, so the lamb fights back! I like that. I like that very much."
---
The hall seemed to shift around them. Shadows flickered as he danced unpredictably, yet Lyra no longer flinched at every motion. She began to anticipate, to read the patterns in his chaos. His excitement, his need for motion, his reliance on unpredictability — it all became clear.
She mirrored his steps, not perfectly, but enough to stay one step ahead. Each time he lunged, she sidestepped. Each leap, she rolled. Each shout, she responded with steadiness.
---
Kaelen's voice finally broke the tension. "Enough, Riven. Show your truth."
The boy froze mid-leap, surprised. "Truth? Ah, yes. You want the truth, Judge? Very well."
He landed, breathless, and the chaotic energy dimmed slightly. "I was reckless. I thrived on it. On danger, on fear. I pushed people, myself, beyond limits because I craved the feeling of living."
Lyra took a cautious step closer. "You hurt people?"
Riven's grin softened, almost wistful. "Sometimes. But it was never about them. Never truly. It was about feeling alive. I burned, I shouted, I fought — because stillness terrified me more than pain ever could."
---
Lyra studied him. She could see the chaos and danger, yes, but also a raw, unshaped humanity. "So you aren't evil," she said. "You're… just lost. Reckless."
The boy nodded slowly. "Lost… yes. Reckless… always. But not evil. That is for the Judge to decide, I suppose."
Kaelen's eyes glimmered faintly. "You are judged not by intention alone, but by consequence. You act without thought, and yet you leave marks that cannot be erased."
Riven's grin faded slightly, replaced with a sombre acknowledgement. "Then I will take it. Consequences are part of the storm. I face them because I chose to dance in it."
---
Lyra felt her chest lighten slightly. Unlike Dorian's manipulations or Alaric's heavy guilt, Riven's storm was transparent. He was chaotic, impulsive, and dangerous, but honest. There was no mask.
She exhaled slowly. "Then you'll learn here too. You'll understand yourself, and the chaos you leave behind."
Riven bowed theatrically. "Ah, the lamb is wise! Good. Good indeed. Maybe we will dance again someday."
---
The hall swallowed him in a swirl of light and shadow, leaving silence once more. Lyra's legs trembled, but she smiled faintly to herself. She had endured the storm. She had survived it without losing herself.
Kaelen's voice was soft, almost approving. "You are learning, Lyra. Every storm tests you, and every storm leaves you stronger. Remember this feeling, for it will guide you in darker trials to come."
Lyra nodded. She straightened, feeling the hall around her shift. Another soul would come, and another challenge, but she was no longer trembling at the first sign of danger.
She was ready.