Chapter 163: Shard by shard

The academy was quieter than usual when Lira returned. Evening light stretched long across the courtyards, tinting the stone walls with warm gold. Students hurried to finish their lessons or drifted toward the dining hall, their chatter echoing faintly down the polished corridors. But Lira didn’t stop to rest or join them—her mind was fixed on what Serelyth had said.

The library loomed at the far end of the west wing, a grand arched chamber with heavy oak doors bound in iron. She pushed them open carefully, and the familiar scent of parchment, leather, and ink wrapped around her like an embrace. Tall shelves stretched upward like pillars of a wooden forest, their ladders leaning against rows that reached nearly to the vaulted ceiling. Lanterns glowed with soft mage-light, giving the place an otherworldly calm.

She headed straight to the older section, where dust clung to books untouched for decades. Most students sought modern spell manuals or histories for their essays—but Lira’s curiosity drew her deeper, where tomes whispered of forgotten times.

She trailed her fingers across the spines, reading faded titles: Records of Elemental Convergence, Cartography of the Ancient Kingdoms, The Seer’s Almanac. None of these were what she needed. She exhaled slowly and pulled a stack of brittle maps from a drawer hidden behind a carved dragon crest. They were fragile, drawn in inks that had nearly bled away with age.

Carefully, she spread the first map across a desk. It showed the lands surrounding the academy, detailed with mountains and rivers, but nothing unusual. The second map, however, caught her breath—it was older, sketched with shaky lines but marked with curious symbols. At the far eastern edge, beyond the borders of the known forests, a shimmering blue mark was drawn like a teardrop. Beside it, in ancient script, she deciphered the words: The Singing Depths.

Her heart quickened. Could this be one of the lakes Serelyth spoke of? She leaned closer, brushing away dust, and noticed faint notes scrawled in the margin:

"Beware the voices in the water. They sing truth and lies alike."

Lira whispered the words under her breath, a shiver crawling across her skin.

Determined, she pulled more maps from the drawer. One showed a series of dotted lines—an old trade route perhaps—that ended abruptly near that same blue mark. Another, a journal hidden between the pages of a thick tome, contained a passage written by a long-forgotten scholar:

"The merfolk guard their secrets jealously. Yet it is said their lakes mirror the skies of creation itself. To look within them is to glimpse eternity, though the price may be dear."

Lira sat back in her chair, the flickering mage-light catching her thoughtful expression. So it was true. The lakes existed, hidden deep within lands barely touched by travelers anymore.

Her determination solidified. She traced the routes with her finger, memorizing the paths and landmarks—dense forests, a broken mountain ridge, and finally the waters marked with silver ink. She knew she couldn’t go alone. Renkai would insist on joining her, perhaps even Thalanir, and Serelyth too.

Still, she whispered to herself: "I will find it. The shard must be there."

As she gathered the maps and notes into a neat pile, the silence of the library pressed in, broken only by the faint crackle of torches. For a moment, Lira thought she heard a soft, melodic echo—like distant singing, almost hidden within the walls themselves. She stilled, heart thudding, but when she strained her ears, the sound was gone.

She closed the journal carefully, hiding it under her arm. Tonight, she would return to the grove, share her findings with Serelyth, and prepare. The journey toward the mermaids’ lake had already begun.

The moon was already climbing the horizon when Lira left the library, the old maps and copied notes secured in her satchel. The quiet of night wrapped around the academy grounds, the lanterns glowing faintly along the cobbled paths. She pulled her cloak tighter and slipped toward the forest trail.

Not far from the border, two familiar figures were waiting. Renkai leaned against a tree, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the shadows, while Thalanir knelt, adjusting a strap on his boot. When they noticed her, both straightened immediately.

"You’ve been gone longer than I thought," Renkai said, stepping closer. "Were you in the library again?"

Lira nodded, unable to hide the excitement on her face. "Yes. And I think I found something."

They began walking together, leaves crunching softly beneath their boots, the forest thickening around them. The path glowed faintly with threads of moonlight slipping through branches.

"What did you find?" Thalanir asked, his voice calm but curious.

Lira’s hand brushed over the satchel at her side. "Old maps. Ones most people don’t even know exist anymore. They show something to the east—an ancient lake, marked as The Singing Depths."

Renkai shot her a sharp look. "The Singing Depths? That doesn’t sound safe."

"It might not be," Lira admitted. "But Serelyth spoke of old lakes, places where creatures still dwell. If a shard is hidden anywhere, it could be there."

Thalanir’s brows furrowed. "Lakes like that... they’re places of power. I’ve read small scraps about merfolk and their magic, but no living scholar has dared to seek them in centuries."

Renkai slowed his pace, watching her carefully. "And you want to go there."

Lira stopped walking and turned to them, her eyes shining with resolve. "I don’t just want to. I have to. Every step I take, every piece I uncover—it all leads toward the shards. If this lake is connected, then I can’t ignore it."

For a moment, the forest was silent except for the whisper of wind. Then Renkai sighed, ruffling a hand through his hair. "I knew you’d say that. You never take the easy road, Lira. But fine. You’re not going alone."

Thalanir gave a faint smile, though his eyes carried a shadow of worry. "Nor without preparation. Lakes guarded by ancient creatures aren’t places you just walk into."

Relief warmed Lira’s chest. She smiled at both of them before they continued down the path, the forest gradually opening into the glowing expanse of her grove.

The giant tree rose into the night like a guardian, its luminous bark casting soft light across the grass. Beneath it, Serelyth rested in her human form, pale and ethereal, her robe pooling around her like woven moonlight. She opened her sapphire eyes as they approached.

"You’ve returned," Serelyth said, her voice calm but edged with curiosity. "What did you uncover, little one?"

Lira stepped closer, kneeling slightly before the dragon-turned-woman, and drew the old map from her satchel. She spread it on the ground, the blue teardrop mark gleaming faintly even in the grove’s light.

"A lake," Lira explained, her voice steady. "An ancient one, far to the east. Called the Singing Depths. I think... I think it may be tied to the shards."

Serelyth leaned forward, studying the parchment. Her long, slender fingers hovered above the mark without touching it. "The Singing Depths..." she murmured, recognition flickering across her expression. "I have heard whispers of such places. Waters where the veil between worlds thins, where voices call from the deep. If this lake still exists, it is not ordinary water—it is a cradle of power."

Renkai frowned. "So it is dangerous."

"Of course," Serelyth replied smoothly, her lips curving faintly. "Anything of worth usually is. But if the shards lie there, then your path is set."

Lira met Serelyth’s sapphire eyes. "Then I will go."

For a moment, Serelyth simply looked at her, then reached out and touched her hand gently. "And I will not let you face it alone. The waters may not welcome me, but I can guard the skies above."

Renkai glanced at Thalanir, who gave a small nod. Both stepped closer, standing firmly beside Lira.

Seeing them all together—her old friends, her dragon companion, the glowing giant tree at their backs—Lira felt her heart stir with something powerful. This was no longer her burden alone.

"We’ll prepare," she said quietly. "And then we’ll go to the lake."

The grove seemed to hum with quiet agreement, the giant tree’s leaves stirring as though in approval.

As the first morning light filtered through the academy, Lira made her way quietly to the hidden chamber beneath the grounds of her home. The old wooden door was worn from countless years, but it had never failed her when secrecy was required. She pushed it open gently and stepped into the familiar, dimly lit corridor beneath the earth. The smell of moss and old stone filled the air, comforting in its familiarity.

The chamber itself was small, circular, and lined with smooth stone walls. In the center, a shallow depression awaited the shards, its surface etched with faint runes that pulsed with a soft, welcoming glow. The earth and air shards rested patiently in their places, one golden-brown like sunlit soil, the other pale and airy, swirling faintly as though caught in an invisible breeze.

Lira approached slowly, cradling the fire shard in both hands. Its warmth was immediate, comforting and almost alive. As she drew closer to the center, the runes along the walls began to glow brighter, reacting to the shard’s heat. She felt a hum under her fingertips, a subtle vibration that whispered in rhythm with her heartbeat.

Carefully, she placed the fire shard near the others, aligning it so the three formed a triangle. Instantly, the runes along the walls flared with brilliance, casting dancing lights across the chamber. Lira’s breath caught. She could sense the energy building, swirling around the three shards, each element complementing the others. The air shard shimmered, the earth shard seemed to pulse with life, and the fire shard radiated warmth and light.

Her eyes closed as she felt the connection between the shards. There was a hum of anticipation, a quiet promise that they were part of something much larger. She opened her eyes, scanning the runes and the stones, and realized with a thrill that the chamber itself was waiting—waiting for the final pieces to complete the puzzle.

Just two more shards remained, hidden elsewhere, their energies unclaimed. And once they were brought here, Lira could feel it—she would be able to unlock the next door, the threshold to something far beyond what she had yet experienced.

A shiver ran down her spine, equal parts excitement and reverence. She knelt beside the fire shard, running her fingers along its smooth edges. The warmth seeped into her, a tangible reminder of her journey so far, of the trials she had endured, the lessons learned, and the companions who had walked beside her.

"Two more..." she whispered to herself, voice barely audible in the quiet chamber. "Just two more, and the path will open."

She took a deep breath, allowing the energy of the three shards to flow around her, steadying her resolve. Her mind drifted briefly to Serelyth, to Maelin, and to Patricia—each had played a part in her journey, each had strengthened her in ways no shard could replicate. The chamber felt alive, not merely with elemental magic, but with the echoes of those bonds.

As she stood, she gazed once more at the three shards. Fire, earth, air—together they pulsed with latent power, a silent call for completion. She tucked the memory of this moment deep into her mind. When the remaining shards were found, when the final threshold was crossed, she would be ready.

Carefully, she closed the chamber door behind her, the runes dimming to a soft, steady glow. She walked back through the corridor, her heart alight with the knowledge that she was closer than ever to the next step, the next door, the next adventure waiting beyond the threshold.

And somewhere deep in her thoughts, she already felt the pull toward the waters, toward the unknown, toward the Singing Depths and the shard that awaited her there.