The next two days passed rather uneventfully and for that, Lyra was thankful. Their journey was steady, unhurried, the road stretching before them beneath the shade of dense canopies and open skies alike. The silence between them was never strained, but neither was it entirely empty. They shared provisions and easy conversation, the miles passing with an occasional story or remark. Lyra, for her part, chose her stories carefully. She spoke of her time in the royal guard, of distant campaigns and skirmishes at the borders, of training with comrades she still missed. There was a warmth in her voice as she spoke, a quiet fondness for the people she deemed safe enough to mention but she was careful, always careful. She did not speak of her. Even so, the memories carried a mild ache, like an old wound that had healed but never quite faded. The ghost of another life.

  Korie didn’t speak much. Not in the way most people did when forced into long journeys together. He never filled the silence with idle chatter, never offered up details about himself unless it served a purpose. He listened well, he asked the right questions, but there was very little given in return. As they travelled, the more Lyra's curiosity about the elf grew. So different from anyone she’d travelled with before - and yet, there were familiarities in him as well.

  She found herself studying him at times, especially in those quiet stretches of the road, curiosity tugging at her. There was something about the way he moved, the way his breath fogged in the air even when it wasn’t cold, the way the glow of his freckles pulsed faintly beneath his hood. He seemed at odds with himself, as if his very existence was split between two states - one familiar, one entirely foreign. And yet... she couldn't look at him for too long.

  Whenever she let her gaze linger, whenever she let herself consider him too closely, an ache would begin to swell in her chest - a dull, aching thing, a pressure just beneath her ribs. It was subtle, like a whisper of something she couldn’t quite hear, couldn’t quite place. A wrongness that didn’t make sense. Coincidental, surely. A slight readjustment of her armour, a shift in the weight of her sword against her hip, and the ache would dissipate entirely. Perhaps she was simply tired.

  In the evenings, their roles had naturally settled.

  Lyra tended to the horses while Korie built the fire, gathering wood and ensuring it was steady. She took comfort in the rhythm of caring for Orion and Aurelian, in the familiar scent of leather and hay, in the warmth of a beast pressing against her shoulder as she checked their tack. Meanwhile, Korie worked without complaint. They ate simply, bread and dried meats, fresh fruit dwindling with each passing meal. Conversation at night was lazier, the kind that unfolded between tired travellers who had no reason to rush. It was in these moments that Lyra found herself reassessing him.

  She had expected him to be more of a problem - a difficult, slippery thing that she’d have to keep an iron grip on. But Korie, for all his initial reluctance, had not once tried to run. He had pulled his weight, hadn’t whined about discomfort, hadn’t made her job harder than it needed to be. More than that, he was capable. Not with horses - definitely not with horses - but he was quick on his feet, seemingly good at assessing situations, adaptable. Lyra didn't find his presence unpleasant. In fact, if she were being honest with herself, it was...

  Easy.

  The second day, the landscape shifted. The forest began to thin, giving way to open stretches of golden fields and rolling hills, the land dotted with patches of farmland. The air smelled richer here, tinged with the scent of harvested wheat and distant hearth smoke.

  Aurumvale came into view by late afternoon.

  The town was larger than Zephyr Hollow, with stone-paved streets and buildings stacked tightly together, their rooftops dusted with gold and bronze paints that gleamed faintly in the waning sunlight. The main road was bustling, filled with merchants hawking wares, carts carrying goods, and guild banners hanging proudly over several shopfronts. It seemed prosperous, thriving, but Lyra had travelled enough to recognise the signs of something deceptive beneath the surface.

  Aurumvale didn’t just prosper - it flaunted its wealth. Guild emblems were displayed too frequently, the people moving through the streets with a careful sort of energy, as though stepping too far out of line might earn unwanted attention. Merchants stood outside their shops, but not all of them looked eager - some looked watchful, guarded. Something about the place felt off.

  The city was exactly as Korie had expected it.

  Merchants' voices could be heard from afar, calling out and selling their goods beside their wooden carts filled with all sorts of items for sale. Produce, fabrics, trinkets and baubles; stalls lined the stone-paved street. The guild banners, hung up for every passerby to witness, were practically everywhere. They changed the atmosphere of the city completely, giving the vibe of competitive marketing by faceless businesses.

  He wondered if he'd ever crossed these roads himself, but he could not remember. His mind had been elsewhere while travelling towards the north, focused on moving quickly rather than shopping at markets. That original trip had been the farthest he'd ever travelled from home, and here he was, making the exact opposite journey.

  As they passed through Aurumvale’s gates, Lyra slowed Orion to a steady halt just past the entrance, her movements practiced, unhurried. She swung her leg over Orion’s side, dismounting with ease, her boots landing lightly against the stone-paved road. The large stallion shifted beneath her, muscles rolling as he steadied himself from the movement, but Lyra didn’t let go of the reins just yet.

  Korie pulled gently on the reins, slowing his horse to a halt as Lyra reined in her own beside him. He followed her lead, though his dismount was far from the effortless grace he usually carried; at the very least, he was growing more accustomed to dropping down from the saddle without stumbling. The stiff ache in his legs was a familiar companion now, but he paid it little mind.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Lyra let Orion’s broad build shield her from view, positioning herself carefully between him and the open street. The last thing she needed was to draw attention to what she was about to do. With swift, efficient motions, she reached into her belt pouch, fingers brushing against the fabric of her royal armband.

  With one last glance around, Lyra quickly wrapped the armband around her upper arm, pulling the fabric snug before fastening it securely. Though, as soon as it was in place, a small doubt settled in her chest. Was it too soon to use this again? After Zephyr Hollow - after nearly being recognised - she had told herself she would be more careful. That she wouldn’t be so reckless about parading her name, her past, her old rank. Yet, here she was. She flexed her arm slightly, feeling the snugness of the fabric against her.

  Korie’s attention shifted to Lyra as she stepped around Orion, moving toward him with a quiet purpose. It was only then that he noticed the subtle yet undeniable change in her attire. His brow furrowed, a grimace tugging at his lips as confusion settled in his chest.

  Provisions were running low and though she still had coin, it was depleting faster than she liked. If wearing the band meant smoother access to supplies, if it meant a merchant knocking a few coins off their asking price, if it meant people would be more inclined to help rather than question - then so be it. Power was a currency, and she wasn’t too proud to spend it. Still, she adjusted the fall of her cloak, making sure the insignia was visible but not obnoxiously displayed. Let them see it if they were looking, but she wouldn’t flaunt it. By the time she stepped out from behind Orion, her face was composed, her posture straight, the hesitation locked away beneath the same practiced ease she had always carried.

  "We should find a stable for the horses," she said to Korie, looking round. "And a tavern..."

  "You're really going to wear that? Here?" He cut her off from changing the subject, raising an eyebrow. He had operated under the assumption that Lyra understood how a city like Aurumvale worked, out in the middle of the island and far from the control of the royal family. "Nobody's going to give you anything for free around here. They don't answer to the crown. This city is independent from the kingdom, ruled by the richest guilds around." The people there cared little about respecting a member of the royal guard. No matter what her title may be, no merchant would smile for her unless she carried enough gold.

  Lyra's fingers brushed over the fabric wrapped around her arm, her expression unreadable as she met his gaze.

  "Even the greediest of merchants recognise influence when they see it. Perhaps they don't answer to the crown, but they won't spit in its face either - not if they want to keep doing business with the rest of the kingdom."

  She shifted her weight, casting a glance toward the bustling streets ahead. The golden rooftops, the polished storefronts - it was all a display, a performance of wealth. A city ruled by merchants meant everything had a price.

  "It's not about getting anything for free," she murmured, flicking her gaze back to him. "But if I can make that price a little lower, I will."

  If Lyra was honest with herself, there was another part of her - a part that she wasn't willing to admit out loud - that enjoyed the pretence. Enjoyed being Lady Lysandra Selvorin, First Blade, Third Sentinel. It was a lie, but it was a comfortable one. It settled into her like a balm on raw skin, soothing even as it reminded her of the wound beneath. She could feel the ache of what had been lost, the hollow place where that life had once belonged, but pretending eased it, even if only for a little while. Even if it was all pretend, Lyra felt mostly whole again.

  Korie was right - nobody would be offering her handouts but it wasn't about that. It was about turning the odds in her favour.

  “Guilds might rule this city, but influence still matters.” She exhaled, rolling her shoulders. “They don’t respect the royal guard? Fine. But they’ll respect what it represents. Authority. Connections. The kind of power that can make life easier for them - or much harder.”

  Korie shook his head at her, but didn't comment further. Her opinion was naive, biased by the confidence in her title and by the attitude she was accustomed to receiving for representing the royal family. The crown had no power there; the people would hardly care about her connections, because it was as he'd explained it. They only cared for gold. Whatever. It was a choice that would soon punish her, and then she would finally take that band off before embarrassing herself further.

  He’d heard tales of Lyra’s home city and the citizens of the capital. Illustris Celesta. People from there were sharp, cultured, and far too proud for their own good. A life filled with political discourse, gold and power meant that they either had to grow up fast or get swallowed in the river of the commonfolk. Quick-witted, opinionated, whether noble or commoner, most were well-versed in the arts and the latest gossip, dressed with flair and spoke with a confident air that hinted at their place in the center of the world. Life in Illustris Celesta demanded adaptability, ambition, and a certain charisma, and its people wore that with pride. Diversity was second nature; they were as likely to trade words with a foreign scholar as haggle with a street mage.

  Not to mention, it being the home of the royal family, the Eclipsars, meant that sun and moon magic was entirely woven into their daily lives. Sol and Luar had once blessed their kingdom, and it was the reason it had bloomed into such a strong force in the first place; every citizen of Eclipsia had reason to worship their names. On the other hand, the crown held little power on the island they were currently on, despite it technically being a part of that kingdom. Merchant guilds were the ones that held the most power, the most gold.

  Korie shook his head, moving on from the old thoughts of their land. They moved on without hesitation. Their first priority was to find a stable, and it didn’t take long. The scent of damp earth and horses grew stronger as they approached a weathered wooden structure, solidly built, worn by time, and unmistakably well-used.

  Inside, a thin stablehand with straw on his tunic looked up from brushing a mare. They spoke briefly, exchanged silver, and made sure their horses would be fed, watered, and well cared for. The stablehand led the animals into their stalls, the soft rustling of straw beneath their hooves filling the quiet space. Lyra gave Orion one final pat, while Korie and Aurelium exchanged a simple glance; despite them riding together for however many days, the stallion had not yet taken much of an interest in him. He often wondered why. With their mounts settled, they stepped back into the busy streets, ready for what came next.

  A tavern. The sky was growing darker at this point, so they needed a place to sleep. Slight issue... With that silver spent, they were not left with much gold to their name. Korie counted the coins in his bag, sliding them aside with each count, and found that he'd been left with two gold and fifty two silver. So that was about two and a half gold... He glanced over at Lyra and raised an eyebrow. She'd spent quite a bit of gold in Zephyr Hollow... Did she still have any gold in her bag, or was all of his the only gold that they were left with? They'd need to pay for a room, after all...

  He supposed they'd figure it out when they got there.