The lyre's secret

-covered stone bench in the garden, surrounded by the soft glow of lanterns and the sweet scent of blooming flowers. The music poured out of her like a dream, weaving a

joy that she couldn't quite explain. It was as if the music was a key, unlocking a part of her soul that she hadn't known existed. Suddenly, the music faltered, and Lyra's eyes snapped open. A figure stood before her, cloaked in shadows. "Your music is...different,"