Chapter 161: Lissandra speaks

The academy grounds were still alive with faint chatter, but Lira slipped away quietly after a short rest. Her heart beat with a mixture of anticipation and caution. Behind the main buildings, where ivy curled thick around stone walls and few students dared to wander, stood an old, worn wooden door almost swallowed by moss and vines. Most thought it led nowhere, just a forgotten relic of the past, but Lira knew better.

She pushed it open with a soft creak. The air shifted instantly—warmer, denser, filled with the scent of wild earth and flowers unseen. Beyond the doorway stretched a narrow, half-forgotten path, winding deep into the thick forest. Branches interwove overhead, letting only specks of light filter through. The silence here was different than in the grove—less calm, more watchful, as though unseen eyes followed her every step.

Her boots pressed into damp moss as she walked further, deeper into the trees. She remembered coming here before, her encounters with the fairies—tricky, playful, and sometimes sharp in their mischief. But she also remembered the information and truths they had shared with her, hidden between riddles and laughter.

After what felt like an hour, the trees suddenly opened into a small clearing. At its center lay the circle of stones: smooth, time-worn, and faintly glowing with old magic. The air above them shimmered faintly, like heat rising off a fire.

Lira’s chest tightened with a mix of nerves and excitement. She stepped into the circle.

The moment her foot touched the moss inside the stones, the world around her shifted. The air grew weightless, her vision blurred, and the forest dissolved into rippling light. A sensation of falling upward rushed through her body, and then—sudden stillness.

She opened her eyes.

Before her stretched the fairy forest.

It was unlike any place in the human world. The trees here were taller, their bark silver and glowing faintly, their leaves a cascade of emerald, gold, and violet. Flowers bloomed in impossible colors, their petals humming softly as if alive with music. Tiny lights darted between the branches—some were fireflies, others unmistakably the fair folk themselves, their translucent wings glimmering like shards of crystal.

A river of pure light wound lazily through the forest, reflecting stars even though no sky could be seen above. The air was alive with enchantment; each breath tingled in Lira’s lungs, filling her with a sense of awe and unease.

She stepped carefully forward, her gaze flicking between the moving lights. A giggle echoed—high, bell-like, unmistakably mischievous. Then another.

"They know I’ve come," she whispered to herself.

The fairies were here, watching her, waiting.

The laughter and flickering lights around her stilled all at once, as if the entire forest drew in a breath. A warm glow spread through the clearing, brighter and more refined than the soft shimmer of the other fairies. From between the silver-barked trees stepped a tall figure, every movement flowing with unearthly grace.

Her gown shimmered like woven sunlight, each fold shifting between gold and pale amber as though it had been spun from liquid dawn. Her hair, long and radiant, fell in waves down her back, catching glints of starlight that hung in the air like motes of dust. A crown of delicate vines and golden blossoms rested upon her brow, subtle yet commanding.

This was no ordinary fairy—this was their queen.

Lira’s breath caught in her throat. Though she had heard whispers of the Fairy Queen, standing in her presence was something else entirely. Power radiated from her, gentle yet undeniable, like standing before a river that could either soothe or sweep away everything in its path.

Lissandra’s sapphire eyes settled on her with warmth touched by ancient knowing. When she spoke, her voice was like the sound of a harp string—soft, melodic, yet resonating deep into the heart.

"You are back, child." She tilted her head slightly, studying Lira as if she could see far more than her physical form. "You seek answers?"

The question lingered in the air, not demanding, but offering.

Lira swallowed and nodded slowly, bowing her head out of instinct. "Yes, my queen... I have come to learn, to understand what paths lie before me. So much has changed since the last time I stepped into your forest."

A faint smile curved Lissandra’s lips, a smile that was both kind and knowing, yet laced with mystery. She extended a hand, and as she did, golden motes spiraled outward, settling gently on Lira’s shoulders and hair like sparks of fireflies.

"The winds of fate have swirled around you, Lira," Lissandra said softly. "I feel them clinging to your aura, weaving a destiny both perilous and bright. You carry fire where once there was only balance, and you walk with bonds that stretch beyond your own kind. A dragon at your side... and yet, you still come to us."

Her eyes glinted, sharp as if testing. "Why is that, child? What answers do you believe we hold for you?"

The fairies hidden in the branches tittered and whispered, their wings fluttering like the rustle of leaves, but none dared speak above their queen.

Lira lifted her gaze to meet the Queen’s eyes. For a moment she hesitated—how could she even begin to explain everything that had happened? But something in Lissandra’s calm, almost motherly presence urged her to speak.

So she did.

Slowly at first, then with growing certainty, Lira told her tale. She spoke of the fire trials within the ancient ruins, of illusions and guardians, and of the burning shard that pulsed like a living heart upon its pedestal. She recounted how she had touched it and felt its warmth seep into her very soul, igniting a new flame inside her.

She told of Serelyth—the great white dragon who had revealed herself, fought beside her against the black terror, and then shown her the volcano where dragons first hatched. Lira described how Serelyth had even entrusted her with a scale, a token of their bond, and how that bond felt deeper than words.

Her voice softened as she explained how she had returned to her ruined grove, shown Serelyth the portal, and discovered the vast expanse within—a space beyond imagining, hidden behind the ancient tree. She told of her friends—Maelin, Patricia, Renkai, and Thalanir—of their loyalty, their courage, and how much they meant to her.

The fairies listened, enraptured, their tiny faces glowing with curiosity and awe. Some gasped when she spoke of the great battle, others covered their mouths when she mentioned the black dragon’s fury. None interrupted.

When at last her words slowed, she drew a quiet breath and asked the question that weighed most on her heart.

"My queen..." Her voice wavered but held steady. "I have found three shards now—earth, air, and fire. Each one has changed me. I feel there are more, that they are meant to be found, but I do not know where. You and your people know much of old magic, of things forgotten by others."

Her hands curled slightly at her sides, hope flickering in her chest. "Do you have knowledge of any other shard places? Any whispers of where they might rest? Anything that could guide me forward?"

The clearing fell utterly silent. Even the rustling leaves seemed to pause. The fairies perched in branches and on flowers leaned forward, their wings stilled, waiting.

Lissandra did not answer right away. Instead, she moved closer, her gown trailing motes of golden light that made the air shimmer like dawn mist. She reached out, brushing the back of her fingers gently along Lira’s cheek in a gesture that was strangely tender.

"You are brave to ask such a question," the Queen murmured, her eyes reflecting centuries of memory. "And braver still to walk the path you tread. For what you seek... is not without cost."

Her gaze lifted toward the great canopy of the fairy forest, as if looking far beyond it.

"The shards you speak of... they are not mere stones. They are fragments of the First Flame, the Breath of Creation itself. Few remember this truth. Fewer still dare to chase them. Each one you touch will change you more, weaving your soul into their ancient pattern. If you continue, child, you will not remain as you are now."

She turned her eyes back to Lira, and there was no softness in them now, only the weight of truth.

"There is one more I know of," Lissandra admitted at last. "Not here, but deep beneath waters no mortal has walked in centuries. It slumbers in the Abyssal Caverns, guarded by tides older than kingdoms. That shard belongs to water, and it will test you in ways fire never could."

The fairies gasped at her words, some hiding their faces, others whispering frantically. Lissandra silenced them with a single lifted hand.

"You asked, and so I have given," she said to Lira, her voice both kind and solemn. "But remember, child—knowledge is a gift and a burden. Are you ready to carry it?"

Lira lowered her eyes, her mind racing.

Deep beneath waters? The Abyssal Caverns?

The thought of it unsettled her more than she wanted to admit. Fire she could endure, earth had tested her strength, and air had carried her in illusions and storms. But water—dark, endless, suffocating water—that was something she had no idea how to face. She could already imagine the weight of it pressing down on her chest, the silence of the deep where light could not reach.

Her hands tightened around her robe. How can I even reach something like that?

As if hearing her thoughts, Lissandra’s lips curved in a knowing smile. "Child, you are not meant to walk this road alone. You have friends—loyal ones who already proved themselves. And more will come to you in time. Friendships are the lanterns that light the dark. Trust them, as you trust yourself. When the time comes, they will help you find a way into the deep."

Her words sank into Lira’s heart, calming the storm there. She looked up and met the Fairy Queen’s sapphire-like gaze, and for a moment, she felt as if the weight on her chest lessened.

Lissandra straightened gracefully and clapped her hands once. Tiny bells jingled in response, and fairies zipped out from the trees carrying crystal goblets filled with golden liquid that shimmered as though it had caught sunlight itself. The air filled with a rich, floral sweetness.

"Enough of heavy talk," Lissandra said with a soft laugh, her presence suddenly lighter. "Your path is long and weary. Sit with us a while, child. Rest your heart. Let us share in honeymead before you chase your next adventure."

The fairies cheered, wings sparkling as they circled, and set the goblets before Lira. The honeymead was warm when she lifted it, the scent thick with wildflowers and nectar. She took a careful sip and almost melted—sweet, golden, and comforting, with a glow that spread through her body like the gentlest embrace.

Lira laughed softly, shaking her head. "It tastes like happiness."

"Exactly what it is meant to be," Lissandra replied, raising her own goblet. Her golden gown caught the light of the mead until she looked like a shard of the sun itself. "To courage, and to the bonds that make courage possible."

Lira lifted her glass. "To courage... and to friendship."

Around her, the fairies echoed her words in chiming voices, their cheer ringing through the forest like a song of light.

For the first time since hearing about the Abyssal Caverns, Lira’s heart no longer trembled. She didn’t yet know how she would face the depths, but she knew she would not face them alone.