The Prince, the Rogue & the Reckoning

g over the city rooftops. She missed home, the Lower Quarters, the chaos, the smells of smoke and bre

ady to call Lyra out on her reckless antics; Jax, clever and steady, who never let her slip entirely out of his sight; and even the younger ones, scrawny but quick, who followed her

y, almost alive. She couldn't deny it any longer: it wasn't just a shiny bauble or a

bility to awaken dormant magic in anyone it chose, but it could only be wielded by one with the fire of rebellion

hungry for freedom, for leverage, for a thrill that no petty theft cou

ng how to cheat the merchant without getting caught. Her fingers had grazed the edge of a golden s

yers. Their eyes scanned every alley, every stall, every passerby, like predators sniffing for a trail. Something a

topped before a building she hadn't seen before. The building itself seemed older than the rest of the marketplace. Its stone cracked, windows narrow and tall, shutters carv

yal treasury sat alongside scrolls and artifacts, and at the center, resting on a pedestal cushioned with vel

ord they spoke was in the old tongue. But she understood the stakes: the relic was

aced, and the thrill of the chase that would follow surged in her veins. She waited until the men stepped away, then sca

terns across the walls. Lyra ducked, rolled, and leapt, landing silently on the pedestal. Her fingers closed around the relic, and the momen

gh, the relic clutched tight. A shout went up. Torches lit the walls as the chase began. She ran, weavi

he flicker of torches, and then... the sudden encounter with Prince Aerion.

came Ca

ghter, Jax's quiet scolding, the younger ones' wide-eyed admiration for her daring exploits. They had been her confidants, her ancho

wn. This was not a trinket for a rogue. It was a key. And s

ient, dark, and far older than the city. The hum from the medallion flared sharply, a warning that made he

ngers. Lyra instinctively tightened her grip on the rel

n words but in sensation. A pull-cold, insisten

in the market, whatever had made the medallion hu

nd the corner of the room, expression unreadab

what it wants. That thing..." he gestured at the medallion, "...

om home, far from safety, but for the first time, she understood the scope of h

stirred beyond the wa