Ayla followed them to the doorway, waving with a bright, hopeful smile.
"Raven!" she called before they stepped outside. "Let's meet again sometime, okay? When you are not busy !"
Raven paused.
Ayla's smile widened.
Lyria felt something inside her chest twist sharply.
Raven gave a small nod. "Sure ."
Ayla beamed.
Lyria shut the door a little harder than necessary when they exited.
The autumn air outside felt cooler, but it did nothing to calm the heat in Lyria's chest — jealousy, fear, confusion… all tangled.
Kara walked a few steps ahead, giving them space on purpose.
Lyria knew she noticed everything.
⸻
They walked in silence for several long breaths.
Finally, Lyria spoke — her voice sharper than she'd intended.
"You scared me, Raven."
Raven looked down at her, genuinely confused.
"Asking about the sword?"
"No," Lyria snapped before she could stop herself. "Not that. Everything."
Raven blinked.
Lyria forced herself to breathe. She lowered her voice.
"You touched a cursed blade like it was nothing. You absorbed the curse and pain from Kara like it was easy. You acted as if dying was just…"
Her voice cracked.
"Just another inconvenience."
Raven's steps slowed.
Her expression shifted — barely, but Lyria saw it.
A flicker of guilt.
"I didn't mean to scare you," Raven said quietly.
"You did," Lyria whispered.
"And I hate it."
They stopped walking entirely.
Raven turned fully toward her.
She stood taller, colder, always composed… yet now she looked uncertain. As if no one had ever told her they feared losing her.
Lyria's chest tightened.
"You keep throwing yourself into danger like your life doesn't matter," she said. "But it does. It matters to me."
Raven's eyes widened a fraction — the closest she ever came to shock.
Lyria looked away, flustered.
"I also didn't like how close that girl was to you."
Raven blinked again. "…Ayla?"
"Yes, Ayla," Lyria muttered. "She was practically glued to your side."
"I didn't notice," Raven said honestly.
Of course she didn't.
That made it worse.
"You're impossible," Lyria groaned.
Raven hesitated.
"Are you… angry with me?"
"No," Lyria exhaled. "I'm—"
She stopped herself just in time.
I'm worried. I'm terrified. I don't want to lose you.
"…concerned," she said instead.
Raven looked down at the ground.
Something unreadable passed over her face.
"I'm not used to that," Raven admitted. "People worrying about me."
Lyria's heart squeezed again.
They resumed walking, this time closer than before.
Kara pretended not to listen — badly.
The weight of the cursed sword on Raven's back seemed to hang in the air with them.
Heavy. Dangerous. Fate-like.
But Lyria couldn't help glancing at Raven's profile.
Her cold eyes.
Her unreadable expression.
Her strength that felt too sharp for this world.
And yet…
The memory of Raven kneeling in front of Kara, absorbing her pain without hesitation, replayed in Lyria's mind.
Her bravery.
Her reckless selflessness.
Her willingness to bleed for others without thinking twice.
Lyria realized something painfully clear:
She didn't just fear losing Raven because Raven was important to the kingdom.
She feared losing Raven because Raven had become important to her.
Too important.
That thought shook her so much she missed a step.
Raven looked at her immediately. "Are you alright?"
Lyria nodded, forcing a smile. "I will be."
Raven frowned slightly — concerned, though she didn't realize how much it showed.
Lyria looked at her softly.
Please stay, she thought.
Please don't disappear. Not now. Not ever.
But she didn't say any of that aloud.
Instead she whispered:
"Just… promise me you'll be careful."
Raven hesitated.
Then she nodded once.
"I'll try."
It wasn't enough.
But for now…
Lyria held onto it anyway.
The sun was lower now, turning the marketplace gold.
Raven walked a few steps ahead with the wrapped cursed sword in her hand, silent and unreadable as always.
Lyria kept watching her back.
Not because she needed to.
But because she couldn't help it.
Kara lingered behind, letting Raven move forward.
After a moment, she leaned close to Lyria and whispered:
"So," she said lightly, "Ayla, huh?"
Lyria stiffened. "What about her?"
Kara grinned. "You looked like you wanted to throw her out of the forge."
"I did not," Lyria whispered back, eyes wide.
"You did," Kara insisted. "You were glaring at her like she stole your horse."
"I do not glare," Lyria hissed.
"You literally growled when she hugged Raven."
"I did not growl!"
"You did," Kara said cheerfully. "It was adorable."
Lyria's face flushed hot.
"Kara, stop talking."
Kara bumped her shoulder playfully.
"You're jealous."
Lyria nearly tripped. "I am not jealous!"
"Uh-huh."
Kara smirked. "You only pressed a hand to your heart like it betrayed you, stared at them like you were about to cry, and looked away every time Ayla smiled at Raven."
Lyria covered her face with both hands.
"I hate you."
"You love me," Kara said. "And you're jealous."
Lyria dropped her hands, cheeks red.
"It's not jealousy. I was simply… worried. That's all."
"Worried she'd run off with the cute blacksmith girl?"
Lyria shoved her lightly.
Kara laughed.
But the truth lingered:
Yes. She had been jealous.
And the admission terrified her.
Up ahead, Raven slowed her pace so they could catch up.
She glanced back at them over her shoulder.
"Are you two done whispering?" she asked calmly.
Lyria went rigid. Kara snorted.
"We're just talking," Kara said innocently.
Raven raised an eyebrow. "About?"
Lyria shook her head quickly. "Nothing important!"
"Suspicious," Raven murmured.
Kara grinned wider.
Lyria wanted to disappear into the cobblestones.
⸻
Raven's POV (brief)
The sword… choosing her
When they reached a quieter street, Raven let the others walk ahead for a moment.
She shifted the long wrapped blade in her hand, feeling the faint pulse of dark energy under the cloth.
The sword was quiet now.
Almost… obedient.
Why me? she wondered.
Why could it drain others but not her?
Why did it react to her touch like recognition?
The shadow inside her — Morivain — stirred.
"Is it not obvious, girl?"
Morivain's voice curled through her thoughts like smoke.
"That blade feeds. And so do you."
Raven frowned.
"Your ability — absorption. Draining. Devouring what was meant to consume you.
That sword is the same. It recognized itself in you."
"So it chose me?" Raven whispered under her breath.
"Of course it did. You are the only one it cannot kill."
Raven tightened her grip on the sword.
The others didn't hear.
Didn't see.
Didn't feel the dark hum beneath the wrapping.
"Be careful with it," Morivain added.
"Two predators recognizing each other is not always a blessing."
Raven sighed softly.
She wasn't sure if that made her feel better… or worse.
⸻
Back to Lyria's POV
She glanced back again, catching Raven's faraway look.
For a moment, Lyria wondered what she was thinking — and why her chest tightened every time she drifted even a little out of reach.
But she said nothing.
And Raven didn't notice the worry in Lyria's eyes as she joined them again.