Even after everything we had learned… even after the messenger… even after the knowledge that in two days' time I would stand face-to-face with the man who was once my greatest ally and was now my most dangerous enemy…
The city still breathed like nothing was wrong.
Lanterns dimmed slowly with the dawn. Market boats slid into the canals with quiet precision. Voices stayed low. Laughter remained careful.
Peace performed so well it almost felt rehearsed.
I stood at the balcony outside Tadewi's temporary residence, fingers curled around the carved stone railing as the morning wind rolled off the sea and tangled through my hair.
Two days.
That was how long I had before the meeting at Forever Twin Falls.
Two days to prepare.
Two days to decide what I would say.
Two days to decide whether I was walking into a conversation… or a trap.
Behind my ribs, Kagutsuchi stirred restlessly.
You walk toward lightning willingly, he murmured. You have always been a reckless little flame.
Njord's presence followed, heavier, more contemplative.
Lightning does not summon without purpose. He waits. That alone is dangerous.
"I know," I whispered.
I wasn't afraid of Raiden.
Not exactly.
I was afraid of what he might say.
Afraid of what I might see in his eyes when there were no prisons, no battlefields, no distractions left between us.
Afraid that some part of him would still be there.
And that it would hurt more than if he were completely gone.
I exhaled slowly and pushed away from the railing.
I had other things to do before I faced that storm.
Revik was awake when I entered his quarters.
The room Tadewi had given him overlooked the refugee makeshift homes, sunlight spilling across the floor in pale blue streaks reflected off the sea below. He sat upright on the edge of the bed, shoulders tense but stronger than they had been the day before.
Color had finally returned to his skin.
Not fully.
But enough.
"You look like you haven't slept," he said the moment he saw me.
"Same to you," I replied.
He snorted faintly. "Fair."
I leaned against the doorframe instead of sitting, studying him quietly.
"How's your head?" I asked.
"Clearer," he admitted. "Still feels like someone rang a bell inside it and forgot to stop."
"That's progress."
He nodded, but something in his expression stayed tight.
Not physical pain.
Mental.
Processing.
"I remembered something," he said finally.
My posture straightened immediately.
"From the prison?"
"Yeah."
He rubbed the back of his neck, gaze drifting toward the window.
"At first I thought it was just noise. Guards talking. You know how it is when you're half-conscious — you hear things but they don't stick."
I waited.
"But this one did," he continued. "And now that my head's clearing… it's getting louder."
A slow chill crawled up my spine.
"What did they say?"
He hesitated.
"That's the thing," he said. "I don't know if I should even bring it up."
"Revik."
He met my eyes.
"I want to tell you first," he said quietly. "Before anyone else. So you can decide if it's worth believing… or if it was just my mind playing tricks on me."
I pushed off the door and crossed the room slowly, stopping in front of him.
"Tell me."
He exhaled once, steadying himself.
"The guards were talking about why the prison acts the way it does," he said. "Not just the wards. Not just the old magic."
My pulse ticked faster.
"They said… the Earth Relic has been there so long… it's rooted itself into the prison."
Silence fell between us.
"Heard them say the prison isn't just enchanted," he continued. "It's… alive. In a way. Sentient. Like the relic seeped into the stone and gave it awareness."
The words settled heavy in my chest.
I didn't answer immediately.
I couldn't.
Because—
It made sense.
Too much sense.
The shifting corridors. The illusions. The emotional manipulation. The way it separated people based on fear and memory.
The way it had felt like it was watching us.
Testing us.
I looked back at him slowly.
"What do you think?" he asked. "Real? Or just something they tell new recruits so they don't lose their minds down there?"
I didn't respond right away.
Instead, I studied him more closely.
Not pity.
Curiosity.
Concern wrapped in caution.
"Revik," I said carefully, "can I ask you something?"
"Always."
I hesitated — not because I didn't want to ask, but because I didn't want to sound like I was questioning his sanity after everything he'd been through.
"When I saw you… before we rescued you," I began slowly, "you seemed fine."
He frowned.
"What do you mean?"
I chose my words carefully.
"The first time I found you in the prison," I said. "You weren't… like you were when we broke you out. You were clear. Coherent. Stronger."
Confusion creased his brow deeper.
"Lyra," he said slowly, "the first time I saw you after getting captured… was when you came to rescue me."
The world tilted.
I went very still.
"…What?"
"I was out of it the whole time," he continued. "I barely remember the guards, barely remember the chains. I definitely don't remember seeing you before the rescue."
My mind flashed back instantly—
The corridor.
His voice.
The conversation.
The clarity in his eyes.
The way he had spoken like he wasn't broken at all.
My stomach dropped.
"It wasn't you," I whispered.
Revik stiffened. "What?"
I looked at him again, the realization settling like cold iron in my bones.
"It was an illusion," I said quietly. "And a damn good one."
The prison hadn't just separated us physically.
It had separated us emotionally.
It had tried to manipulate my choices.
My breathing slowed as the implications stacked.
If the relic truly lived within the prison…
If it had rooted into the stone…
Then it hadn't just been guarding prisoners.
It had been shaping reality inside its walls.
Testing those who entered.
Judging them.
I exhaled slowly and looked back at Revik, who was still watching me carefully.
"So?" he asked. "Was it real? What I heard?"
I held his gaze for a long moment.
"There's something about that prison," I said finally. "And we don't have any other leads on the Earth Relic."
Hope flickered in his eyes.
"So you think—"
"I think we follow up on it," I said. "Whether it's truth or myth… it's the closest thing we've got."
He nodded once, relieved.
"Then we should bring it to the others."
"Yeah," I said quietly.
"We should."
We gathered that afternoon.
Muir sprawled sideways across one of Tadewi's low seating cushions like he owned the place. Willow stood near the back wall, arms crossed tight across her chest. Tadewi poured tea calmly, as if we weren't about to decide the direction of the war.
I explained everything.
The guards' conversation.
The illusion.
The prison's behavior.
And finally—
The possibility that the Earth Relic was embedded within it.
Silence followed.
Willow was the first to react.
"No," she said immediately.
Her answer came too fast. Too defensive.
"My father would have told me if the relic truly resided within the prison," she continued. "The royal bloodline guards relic knowledge closely."
"Would he?" I asked gently.
She hesitated.
"It's a myth," she insisted. "A children's story. Passed down through generations to scare criminals into compliance."
I tilted my head slightly.
"All myths start somewhere."
She didn't answer that.
Didn't want to.
Because part of her knew I was right.
Tadewi set her teacup down softly.
"If the Primal Dragon feels there is truth here," she said calmly, "then we should investigate."
Willow looked at her sharply.
"You would chase folklore?"
"I would chase possibility," Tadewi replied. "Especially when relics are involved."
She turned to me.
"I will consult what records we have. The elders salvaged scrolls when we fled. And if necessary… I will return to the Air Nation ruins."
My eyes widened slightly. "That's dangerous."
"Yes," she said simply. "But knowledge often is."
Muir stretched lazily, breaking the tension.
"For what it's worth," he said, "Lyra's gut has saved us more times than I'd care to admit."
I shot him a look. "That sounded almost like a compliment."
"Don't get used to it."
He sobered slightly then.
"If the relic's in that prison," he continued, "it changes everything. Strategic advantage. Power balance. War trajectory."
"And trafficking routes," I added.
They all looked at me.
"If the prison is tied to the relic," I said, "and the relic influences the Earth Kingdom's infrastructure… it could explain why trafficking networks operate so confidently through certain territories."
Willow frowned.
"You think the smugglers are connected to relic influence?"
"I think the idea that getting caught could make you insane does," I said. "And someone's been moving children through all the other kingdoms' borders but the Earth Kingdom."
Silence deepened.
Tadewi nodded slowly.
"Then both paths may be linked."
Muir sighed.
"Great. One relic, one corrupted prince, one slave network."
And one suspicious king, I thought to myself, sparing Muir the discomfort of saying it aloud.
I smirked faintly.
"Busy week."
But inside—
Tension coiled tighter.
Two days until I faced Raiden.
And now—
A relic buried in a sentient prison.
The storm ahead had just doubled in size.