A few days after Kael's oath of loyalty, Lyrus and his new companion continued their journey through the wilderness. The forest here was denser, the paths less traveled. Ancient roots twisted beneath their feet, and the air smelled of damp leaves and distant rain. Each step still multiplied Lyrus' strength, refining his control over the Hellfire Technique. With Kael's guidance, he began to understand not only how to generate flames but how to shape them into precise strikes.
They were discussing possible training regimes when a scream echoed through the woods. Without a word, Lyrus sprinted toward the sound, his steps shaking the earth as his power surged. Kael followed, struggling to keep up.
In a small clearing, they found a young woman surrounded by three rough-looking cultivators. She wore a tattered cloak, and her bow lay snapped at her feet. The cultivators laughed cruelly, taunting her as she desperately tried to fend them off with a broken arrow shaft.
Lyrus stepped in, his aura suffocating. "Leave her," he commanded, voice cold. The trio turned, one sneering, another gripping his sword tighter. Their bravado lasted only a moment. When Lyrus stepped closer, they felt the crushing pressure of his presence. He struck before they could speak: one fist shattered a sword, another sent a man sprawling, and a searing kick of Hellfire set the last fleeing into the forest.
The woman stared, breathless. She had long, dark hair that fell in loose waves around her shoulders and eyes that seemed to gleam gold in the dappled forest light. There was strength in her gaze, and also relief. For a moment, Lyrus found himself marveling at the fierce determination and quiet grace that radiated from her.
He bent down, offering his hand. "You're safe now," he said softly.
She hesitated before placing her hand in his, her grip firm despite the tremor in her arm. "Thank you," she managed, voice low but steady. "My name is Alyra. I owe you both my life."
As he helped her to her feet, Lyrus realized he was suddenly aware of how close they stood. The scent of wildflowers clung to her cloak, and when she met his eyes, there was a warmth there that stirred something unexpected in him—something gentle and unfamiliar. He cleared his throat, trying to steady his thoughts.
"I'm Lyrus," he said, as if reminding himself. "And this is Kael."
Alyra nodded at Kael, then turned back to Lyrus. "If I may… could I travel with you? I have nowhere else to go."
He glanced at Kael, who offered a small nod. Lyrus knew what his mentor would say: another skilled companion could only strengthen their cause. But this felt different. There was a softness in Alyra's eyes that made him want to protect her, to show her the kindness the world had denied her. He swallowed, the corners of his lips turning upward in a gentle smile.
"Yes," he said quietly. "You're welcome with us."
Alyra's cheeks flushed ever so slightly, and Lyrus felt a warmth spread through his chest. In that quiet glade, a delicate bond began to form between them, one that went beyond gratitude and strength.
this one was super long.