LIRA
WHEN LIRA WAS a child growing up in the wilderness of Adhira, she couldn’t travel more than a few feet away from her twin brother without his fingers gripping her wrist.
Without him rushing to join her side, always the protector.
Always the faithful guide.
Everywhere she went, he went. Everything she did, he did.
Their mother had never been there for them, and so Lon had filled that gap for her, and she for him. They’d shared countless memories, days spent exploring the quadrants of their planet, getting lost in its glorious splendor.
They’d been inseparable, two parts of a whole.
Until, one day, Lon stopped following her. He’d grown out of his need to be near his sister, to follow her motions as if they were his own. He turned his attention toward other things.
Like standing guard near the doors of Rhymore, trying his best to imitate the older Sentinels.
Lira had turned her eyes to the sky, while Lon kept his feet on the ground, his greatest wish to be an Adhiran Sentinel, a protector of the queen whose greatest desire was peace.
It was why, of all people, Lon did not belong in this Arcardian hospital bed, his eyes still shut, his vitals being monitored by a medical droid.
“I’m so sorry,” Lira whispered as she held Lon’s hand in hers. It was warmer than it had been on that horrid journey across the skies, Lon lying on the cold floor of the Xen Pterran warship. His condition was improving.
Soon, he might even wake up.
Lira wanted to run, to be anywhere but here when she told Lon the news of what had transpired on their planet. When he discovered that he wasn’t there guarding their aunt, as he’d sworn to.
His chest was bare, the fresh wrappings on his skin pulled taut as he lay in the bed. The gunshot had just missed his vital organs, but he’d lost nearly enough blood to kill him.
And though he’d survived, after he learned how many had died...
Lira guessed Lon would wish himself dead.
So she sat by his side for endless hours, until the warm clutches of sleep stole her away.
In her dreams, she imagined she was riding atop an Adhiran darowak. The massive winged beast, with scales that burned bright like her own, carried her across the skies of Adhira.
The wind pounded fiercely against her, causing her eyes to water, her hands to shake.
Still, she urged the darowak faster.
At top speeds, she felt she could outrun her fears. Her sadness. Her shame.
The beast banked left, its wings snapping like taut fabric. Lira leaned into its neck, gazing down at the ground below.
Rhymore was bathed in black smoke.
They trailed upward, spiraling into the sky and soaring through a bank of clouds. They came out the other side, sputtering, and as Lira looked down over the darowak’s outspread wings, her heart froze at the sight.
Adhira was gone. Where the planet used to be, the dry husk of Xen Ptera sat in its place. A bare orb bathed in darkness, a skeletal casing of a world once thriving with life.
“No,” Lira gasped. Her heart began to crack. Fissures spread through it, reaching cold fingers through every valve until Lira felt darkness stealing her away.
She fell from the creature’s back, screaming.
Tumbling downward, into the endless pit where Adhira used to be.
* * *
Lira woke to a soft hand grazing her cheek.
“Don’t cry, Lirana.”
That voice, so soothing, so full of calm.
Lira opened her eyes, the sticky wetness of tears obscuring her view. But she saw the beautiful woman standing before her clearly enough, a delicate face she knew and loved, despite the differences between them.
“Aunt Alara,” she gasped.
Lira leaped from her chair and fell against her aunt. Their arms encircled each other. Tears fell freely from Lira’s face, but for once, her scales didn’t heat. Instead, cool relief overcame her.
“I’m so sorry,” Lira sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Alara. I didn’t know, I never could have known that—”
“It’s not your fault, Lirana. Hatred, and the desire to spread fear, is never your fault.”
“I’ll come back home after this,” Lira said. “I’ll make up for it. I’ll do anything. I’ll agree to your terms, if you’ll only forgive me for bringing Valen there.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Alara said, pulling back to look into Lira’s eyes. “The only thing you will do is follow your heart.”
She pulled Lira back to her chest as she cried.
Lira didn’t let go of her aunt until the tears dried up. Until they sat down on either side of Lon’s bedside, held his hands and spoke of happier times. The beauty of a family that could come together, broken, and still find a way to become something whole.
It wasn’t until later that Lon woke, groaning, the scale on his cheek flaring with his pain.
“Lira? Aunt Alara?” he asked, his voice raw. He looked down at his bandaged chest and winced. “What happened?”
Lira was about to speak, to try to explain the horrors that had transpired on Adhira, when her aunt placed a warm hand over hers.
They shared a knowing glance across Lon’s body.
“There was an attack,” Alara said.
She told the terrible tale, bearing the burden so Lira didn’t have to.