Chapter 162: New path open

The honeymead gathering lasted long into the soft evening of the fairy forest. Lira sat among the fair folk, laughter and song swirling like fireflies around her. She felt lighter than she had in weeks, as if every note and every sip of honeymead had swept away the shadows lingering in her chest.

But when the silvery light of fairy-moon beams filtered through the canopy, Queen Lissandra rose gracefully. The fairies quieted at once, wings folding. She looked at Lira with eyes that seemed to hold both warmth and eternity.

"It is time, child," she said softly. "You must return before your absence is noticed. The world beyond our circle waits for you still."

Lira nodded, though a small part of her wished she could remain here, in this haven where the worries of dragons, shards, and looming dangers seemed so far away.

As she stood, one tiny fairy fluttered forward, her wings glimmering like spun glass. She held something cupped in her palms: a small vial filled with liquid that shimmered between blue and silver, as though starlight had been captured within it.

The little one looked up at Lira shyly. "This is from us," she said in a bell-like voice. "If you ever feel lost in darkness, open it. It will show you a light, even in the deepest waters."

Lira’s breath caught. Carefully, she took the vial and tucked it close to her heart. "Thank you... I’ll treasure it."

Queen Lissandra smiled knowingly. "Our gifts are small, but sometimes the smallest light shines brightest in the blackest sea."

With that, she lifted her hand, and the circle of standing stones glowed faintly once more. The air shimmered as the portal reawakened.

"Go, child," the Queen said. "And remember—friendship is your anchor, even when waves threaten to drown you."

Lira bowed deeply, her chest full of gratitude. "I won’t forget."

She stepped into the circle. Light enveloped her, and in the blink of an eye, she was back in the forest behind the academy. The night air was cooler here, sharper, and the sounds of crickets replaced fairy song.

For a moment, she stood still, holding the vial close, feeling its faint warmth. Then she whispered into the quiet woods, "I’ll be ready. And I won’t be alone."

With that, she turned back toward the academy, the fairy gift tucked safely away, her resolve burning brighter than ever.

When Lira returned to the academy courtyard, the lamps were already burning low, students drifting off to their quarters after the long day. She slipped through the quiet halls without drawing attention, her mind still wrapped in the shimmer of the fairy forest.

The vial pressed against her chest beneath her robes, warm as though alive. She touched it once, just to reassure herself it was real, then quickly pulled her hand away. No one can know—not yet.

Not Serelyth, not Maelin, not even Patricia.

She knew her friends would ask questions, and Renkai especially would press her until she told him everything. But something deep inside told her the Fairy Queen’s words were not meant for many ears. The secret had weight, and it was hers to carry.

When she entered her chamber, the fire in the lantern flickered softly, casting golden light across her desk where half-finished notes and potion vials still stood. She smiled faintly, remembering how safe and ordinary her little room felt compared to the endless depth of the fairy forest.

Sliding onto her bed, she laid back and stared at the ceiling beams, fluffy cuddled near her. The vial’s glow was faint, but she could still sense it—like a heartbeat beside her own.

Deep beneath waters...

The thought shivered through her. She exhaled, steadying herself.

"I’ll be ready," she whispered into the quiet room, a promise not just to herself but to the fairies and the shard yet to be found.

Sleep took her slowly, and though her dreams were strange—waves of dark water rising around her, broken only by a single thread of light—she held no fear. The light always found its way back to her hand.

...

The next morning, when the sun had only just begun to climb above the horizon, Lira slipped quietly into the forest. She followed the familiar paths until the air shimmered faintly and she passed through the portal into her grove.

There, beneath the vast canopy of the giant tree, Serelyth rested. In her human form, she lay reclined against the roots as though they had been carved into a throne just for her. Her white hair spilled like silk over her shoulders, and her sapphire eyes opened the moment Lira stepped into the grove.

"You return sooner than I thought," Serelyth said softly, her voice carrying that calm power that always made Lira’s heart still.

Lira walked closer, hesitant at first, then sat down beside her. She could feel the tree’s life force humming through the roots, soothing and warm. For a while she was silent, her hands tightening in her lap. Then, slowly, she told Serelyth about the vial of starlit liquid she now carried as a gift.

Serelyth listened without interruption, her expression thoughtful, almost solemn. When Lira finished, the dragon-lady tilted her head back against the roots, gazing up at the endless green canopy.

"Deep waters," Serelyth murmured at last. "Yes... I know of places that could fit such a hint." Her voice softened into memory. "Long ago, before I was bound in stone, there were lakes so vast and deep that even dragons hesitated to cross them. Lakes said to be older than mountains, older than the skies themselves. And in those depths... dwelled creatures of song and mystery."

Lira leaned forward. "You mean—mermaids?"

Serelyth’s lips curved faintly. "Merfolk, yes. Some were beautiful, with voices that could charm even dragons. Others were fierce guardians of their waters. But all were bound to the mysteries of the deep. If anywhere holds what you seek, child, it is in a place like that."

Lira’s heart quickened. She could almost see it—the vast blue expanse, the hidden secrets at its bottom. "Then... I need to find it. A map, something in the academy records. I can’t just wander aimlessly."

Serelyth turned her gaze to Lira, eyes shimmering like twin sapphires. "Good. Your caution is wise. Do not dive blind into waters that could drown you. Search the library, gather knowledge, then act."

Lira nodded, determination hardening in her chest. "Yes. I’ll go to the library tomorrow. There has to be some record of old lakes."

She hesitated, then smiled at Serelyth. "And... thank you. You always make me feel like I’m not walking this path alone."

Serelyth reached out and brushed her pale fingers lightly against Lira’s hand. "You are not alone. You carry bonds stronger than you realize. And remember—whatever lies at the bottom of those waters, I will fly above them, ready to guard you."

Lira’s chest warmed at the words. She looked toward the tree, its ancient trunk glowing faintly in the morning light, and whispered, "Then the next piece waits in the deep. And I’ll be ready to find it."

Serelyth said softly, her voice carrying the weight of ancient patience. "Did the fairies give you their tricks and riddles again?"

Lira gave a quiet laugh, sitting beside her on the grass. "Not riddles this time. Queen Lissandra was kind, though... she gave no direct path. Only hints. She told me I must look to the waters, deep waters, for what I seek." She glanced up at the tree, watching the leaves sway gently in the breeze. "She said friendships will guide me. I think she means I won’t have to walk this road alone."

Serelyth tilted her head, studying her with the faintest smile. "She speaks true. Fairies rarely say more than what they must. But deep waters..." She paused, looking beyond the branches as though seeing faraway memories.

Lira’s curiosity sparking like fire. "Do they still exist?"

Serelyth chuckled lightly, the sound low and melodic. "Exist? Perhaps. Though they are not as one imagines from songs. They are cunning, playful, and not easily trusted. But their waters... they are powerful. If there is a shard to be found, it could be hidden within those depths." She leaned back against the tree trunk, her voice softening as though weighed by nostalgia. "I once flew over such lakes, when I was still wild and unbound. The water shimmered with colors no mortal eyes had names for, and the creatures below moved with grace beyond anything I’d ever seen. If you are to go there, you must be cautious, for not all who enter the mermaids’ domain return."

Lira listened intently, her heart racing at the thought of venturing to such a place. A spark of determination lit in her chest. "Then I must find it. If there’s even a chance, I have to try."

Serelyth’s emerald eyes softened with a rare glimmer of approval. "Your courage is like a flame, little one. But flames burn out if not guided. Seek knowledge first. The academy’s library has maps most students never think to read. Some are forgotten in dust, others locked away. Perhaps within those tomes lies the path to the mermaids’ lake."

Lira nodded, her mind already forming the next steps. "Yes. I’ll search the library. I’ll find out where these lakes are—or where they once were."

Serelyth reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over Lira’s hand. The touch was cool, steady, grounding. "Good. And while you search, I will rest here. This tree’s roots heal me more than slumber ever could. When the time comes, I will fly with you again."

Lira’s lips curled into a small smile, comforted by the promise. She looked once more at the great tree, feeling its silent strength radiate through the grove, then stood with renewed determination. "Then I’ll go. I’ll bring back what I learn, and together, we’ll see what waits in those waters."

Serelyth’s voice followed her as she walked toward the edge of the grove. "Remember, Lira—the waters can mirror your heart. Go with clarity, or they will show you only confusion."

Lira nodded, the words settling into her like a quiet vow. She would go to the library, seek the forgotten maps, and prepare for the journey to the mermaids’ lake.