## CHAPTER 84: The Phantom of the Font
Lyra stood as if she were frozen, her boots rooted to the damp stone perimeter of the central clearing. Her eyes, usually so calculated and critical, stared at the figure before her with an unbidden, quiet admiration. There he sat upon the edge of the pristine fountain, dressed in a simple, casual shirt and loose trousers. The pale afternoon sunlight seemed to gather specifically around the clearing, pouring directly onto his face. His stark white hair glimmered like spun silver under the sun's rays as he stared off into the distant horizon. His face was stone-cold, dull, and entirely unbothered, looking exactly like a boy hopelessly lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts. His crimson eyes, reflecting the ripples of the silent water, looked as empty as they had ever been.
She swallowed the dry lump in her throat and stepped closer, trying to close the immense, invisible distance between herself and the white stone structure.
The very moment her heel took its first forward step, Silas's empty eyes instantly fell on her. He did not move his head. Not a single muscle in his neck or shoulders twitched. Only his crimson pupils shifted, locking straight onto her form. Those bloody spheres looked as if they wanted to pierce right through her flesh and stare directly into her soul.
Lyra felt her legs instantly go stiff. A violent, instinctual shiver ran up her spine; just a single, passive look from him gave her this much chills. But she forced herself not to stop. Realizing she had successfully captured his attention, she took steady, deliberate steps forward toward the fountain.
Silas, who had stayed entirely quiet, casually watching her close the distance between them, finally spoke.
"Why are you here, Lyra Amelia Valerius?" Silas asked. His tone was incredibly low, dull, and completely devoid of any welcoming warmth.
Hearing her full, aristocratic name roll so casually off the tongue of an ord—of a Grandmaster, Lyra instantly perked up. She raised her head, forcing her shoulders back to look him eye to eye.
"It's not just me," Lyra said, her voice carrying the practiced weight of her lineage. "I, Elisa, Casel, and even Alium came all this way to check on Caspian. We wanted to see how he was doing. After what happened in the courtyard, we were genuinely concerned for his safety."
"Interesting," Silas said, though his expression didn't change a fraction. "However... we both know what I meant. That was not the question."
With a fluid, ghostly movement, he dropped down from the ledge of the white fountain. He was now standing directly before Lyra on the stone pavement, his height casting a faint shadow over her, his crimson eyes glowing with an ominous, underlying light.
"Why are you here?" Silas asked once again.
The subtext was clear. She had already seen Caspian, and she knew he was recovering fine under Louisa's care. So why was she out here, deep within the dangerous confines of the western garden? And why, of all things, had Aurora allowed Lucy to guide her into the heart of this labyrinth? Silas had a couple of working reasons for her sudden presence, but his nature demanded that he hear her say it herself.
Knowing she had been completely found out much earlier than she had anticipated, Lyra realized there was no hiding her true intentions from him. The tactical retreat was useless here.
"I want to know," Lyra confessed, her voice ringing clear in the dead silence of the clearing.
"Your curiosity is a bothersome thing. Has anyone ever told you that, Miss Valerius?" Silas asked, tilting his head slightly.
"I don't need anyone to tell me that. I already know," Lyra shot back, standing her ground. She took half a step closer, her sharp wit locking onto him. "Who are you? I know you are a Grandmaster... Lady Aurora told me as much. But which one are you? What is your mantle?"
Silas went completely quiet for a few agonizing seconds, the silence stretching out between them like a physical wall.
"And why exactly would I tell you?" he asked smoothly.
"Because I will find out anyway," Lyra stood her ground and spoke, her blue eyes flashing with the fierce, unyielding spirit of the Crimson Riot. "With or without your help."
Silas went quiet again. Lyra stood there, chest heaving slightly, waiting for his defensive response or a deflection—but she got absolutely none. The silence lingered, but this time, it felt entirely different.
Slowly, a deep sense of profound discomfort began to pool in the pit of her stomach. A strange, phantom ick crawled across her skin, a primal alarm bell screaming that something was fundamentally wrong with the reality around her.
She walked forward, her boots clicking against the stone as she approached his unmoving form.
"Hey," she called out, her voice suddenly sounding muffled, as if the air itself had grown dense.
As she spoke, her eyes instinctively looked past his shoulder, only to widen in absolute horror. The bright, amber afternoon sun was setting so quickly it felt entirely unreal. The sky was violently bleeding from orange to a deep, suffocating twilight purple in a matter of seconds, shadows stretching out like reaching claws across the white stone courtyard.
"What... this can't be..." she whispered, panicking.
She walked quickly toward Silas, whose gaze remained entirely fixed, staring straight down at the ground, completely unmoving and unresponsive to the cosmic acceleration happening right above them.
Lyra quickly closed the remaining distance between them. Driven by fear and a desperate need for answers, she reached out her hand and tapped his shoulder.
The very moment her fingers made contact with his body, Silas's form violently shuddered. There was no flesh, no solid bone beneath her touch. Instantly, his entire body dissolved into a thick, freezing grey fog, scattering into the wind like he had never existed in the first place.
"What...?"
Lyra stood alone in the center of the dark clearing, her hand still frozen in mid-air. She was completely shocked, dumbfounded, and entirely short of words as a cold, terrifying fear began to grip her heart from the shadows of the maze.