Lyra approached Vane's bed with slow, graceful steps. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her uniform. Her emerald-green eyes locked onto Vane's bandaged arm, and then onto his pale face.
"Professor Vance is an old fool who has aged on the battlefields," Lyra said, her pleasant voice tearing through the silence in the room. As sweet as her voice was, her words were razor-sharp.
The girl leaned toward Vane, closing the distance between them. A light, floral perfume scent filled Vane's nose... And in that instant, Vane's blood ran cold. This wasn't an ordinary floral scent. It was chamomile. The specific scent that lingered in his mother's hair every morning; a scent so familiar it warmed his heart, yet brought agonizing pain. Vane violently suppressed the tightening in his chest.
"He's been using aether to power his mechanical prosthesis for so long," Lyra continued, seemingly oblivious to the boy's internal tremor, "that he's begun to see everything merely as a physical force. A kinetic mirror... What utter bullshit."
Vane weighed the silver raven crest on the girl's collar and the name of House Corvus in his mind. "What do you mean? And who are you exactly?"
Lyra leaned against the foot of the bed. She smiled, lightly adjusting the complex-lensed goggles on her head with her index finger. "I am a Corvus, Vane. My name is Lyra. These toys on my head aren't just for decoration; they read the momentum, density, and flow of aether. The moment Caelum's axe hit you... the aether didn't bounce back."
A deep silence swallowed the room. Only the hissing of the aether pipes on the infirmary walls could be heard.
"The aether died," Lyra whispered, the mysterious smile on her lips growing wider. "In a tenth of a second, all the aether, light, and even heat around that rusted dagger vanished. A void, a vacuum was formed. That physical shock the professor felt wasn't a reflection of the aether; it was your ugly weapon vomiting out the energy it couldn't digest."
The kinetic mirror lie felt like bullshit from the start, Vane thought. What she's saying perfectly proves how that disgusting reaction in my body happened. Even that ancient voice in my mind mocked the professor's words. I need to find out what this dagger is, immediately.
Vane dropped the exhausted expression from his face and sat up straight in his hospital bed. His gaze hardened. "Have you shared this information with anyone else, Lyra? If what you're saying turns out to be true—"
"I am one hundred percent sure it is true," the girl cut him off.
"Then why didn't you tell anyone?" Vane's eyes locked onto her emerald ones. "If this is properly investigated, wouldn't it lead to my expulsion from the Academy, or even my surrender to the Inquisition? Wouldn't that be exactly what the Queen and the other Pillars, who don't want me here, desire?"
As Vane spoke, Lyra gracefully released the lock of silver hair she had been twirling around her finger. "Vane, I have no intention of telling anyone. I only came here to inform you."
Alarm bells rang in Vane's mind. No one in this world does anything without expecting something in return, especially a Corvus, he thought. He didn't trust the girl in the slightest, but right now, he had no choice but to play along. "What do you want from me, Lyra?"
"Just consider this a small welcoming gift, Vane," the girl said, a wide, terrifyingly sweet smile on her face. "If you hear a single word from the outside regarding what I've told you, you can do whatever you want to me."
Vane steered the conversation to what he really wanted to know. "So... Has there ever been anyone else in my condition?"
Lyra crossed her legs and sat on the edge of the bed. "Nothing like this has ever been encountered within the borders of the Valerius Empire before. But... there are records of very similar anomalies caused by rogue New Nocturne witches in the past."
"New Nocturne?" Vane frowned. "Isn't that the border country my father destroyed as soon as he took the throne?"
Lyra took off the lensed goggles from her head and began gently wiping them with a silk cloth she pulled from her pocket. "Yes. The King's most important act upon his ascension. Some ancient texts whisper that New Nocturne and Valerius used to be a single empire named Nocturne. Of course, nowadays, anyone who says such things is instantly declared a political criminal and eliminated."
Vane rapidly began piecing together what he had heard. The puzzle pieces were clicking into place in a terrifying way. If this aether-devouring trait is only seen in witches from New Nocturne... Could my mother have been a witch who fled from New Nocturne? Considering the timeline and how desperately his mother had tried to hide him far away from the palace, the possibility didn't seem far-fetched at all.
Lyra put her goggles back on her head and stood up from the bed. She leaned in and whispered directly into Vane's ear: "The Censored Floor."
"What does that mean? Where is that?" Vane instinctively leaned forward, feeling that all the answers he sought were hidden behind those two words.
Lyra had noticed the thrill of the hunt in the boy's eyes. "The Censored Floor is a sealed area located at the very bottom of the Academy Archives. The door leading down only opens with the blood of the Ten Pillars." The girl winked pointedly at Vane as she said this last sentence.
Vane got the message instantly. Finally, this Leynthey blood in my veins will be good for something, he thought.
"You'll draw too much attention during the day, Vane. You should try going at night. But be careful... The mechanical hounds guarding the Archives are a bit too dangerous."
Vane understood the lethal warning in her voice perfectly. "I'll keep that in mind."
As the girl turned back with a satisfied look and headed for the exit, Vane could no longer resist the urge gnawing at him. That chamomile scent was clouding his logic.
"Lyra?"
The girl stopped abruptly, as if she had been waiting for this exact question, and turned back to Vane. "Yes, Vane?" Their eyes locked onto each other.
Vane was the one to break the tense silence between them. He narrowed his eyes, studying the girl. "Could we... have met somewhere before?"
A momentary, playful gleam flashed in Lyra's emerald eyes. Without letting her smile fade, she turned around and grabbed the door handle.
"I don't think so..." Lyra said, her voice suddenly dropping to a soft whisper. "...Sweetie."
And the heavy wooden door closed on Vane.
Left alone in the infirmary with nothing but the wheezing breaths of Caelum coming from behind the curtains of the next bed, Vane's blood ran cold. He gritted his teeth, his eyes glued to the door.
She's lying, Vane thought. That word she used on her way out wasn't just a casual term of endearment. She had used the word 'Sweetie', right down to its exact emphasis and tone, exactly the way his mother used to say it to him.