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The cold night air was thick with silence, broken only by the faint rustling of leaves. Lyra moved like a shadow, careful and light-footed, slipping past the sleeping inn's back door. Her hands trembled slightly as she clutched the satchel, each step filled with urgency and fear. She glanced back once, eyes wide in the dark.
Unseen, Zarya's sharp gaze followed from a second-floor window. Her breath hitched as she watched Lyra disappear into the night. Something deep inside her stirred — a flicker of unease that she couldn't ignore.
Quietly, she slipped out of the room, careful not to wake Nathaniel or anyone else. The moment her feet touched the ground, she felt a strange surge inside her — a warmth spreading from her scalp down her spine, as if an ancient power was awakening.
Her hair, usually dark and flowing, began to shimmer subtly under the moonlight. A few strands at her temples had already started to lighten, turning a pale silver that she quickly brushed behind her ear. *Not yet,* she thought fiercely. *No one must know.*Clutching her cloak tighter, Zarya moved swiftly but silently, following the faint trail Lyra left behind. She kept to the shadows, every nerve alert. The growing power inside her made her senses sharper — she could smell the crisp scent of damp earth and hear the soft crackle of twigs long before her eyes caught them.
As they ventured deeper into the forest, the air grew colder, heavier, almost charged with magic. Zarya felt her strength growing with every step. Her fingers tingled, and a faint white glow pulsed at her fingertips.
Lyra's pace quickened, unaware of the silent presence behind her. She hesitated near a mossy clearing, pulling out the vial. Zarya's heart pounded — jealousy, fear, and a new fierce protectiveness all tangled inside her.
Suddenly, the glow from Zarya's hands flared briefly, and a few more strands of her hair shimmered white in the moonlight. She swallowed hard, fighting to keep her power hidden but knowing she must confront Lyra soon.
"Lyra," Zarya's voice cut through the stillness, low but trembling with emotion.
Lyra whipped around, startled, eyes wide with fear and surprise.
"You didn't think I'd let you go alone, did you?" Zarya said, stepping into the clearing, her gaze sharp but conflicted.The tension between them crackled, like electricity before a storm. Zarya's heart ached — the power awakening within her was more than magic; it was rage, jealousy, and a desperate need to protect what was hers.
As the crystal in Lyra's hand pulsed softly, Zarya's hair caught the moonlight again — more strands turning white, a silent sign that the reawakening had truly begun.
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Zarya stepped closer, the white strands of her hair now more visible, shimmering softly in the moonlight. Her voice was low, but every word carried a sharp edge.
"Why are you sneaking out, Lyra? What are you really after?"
Lyra's eyes darted nervously, trying to keep her composure. "I... I need answers, Zarya. Nathaniel's illness... I have to find a cure. You wouldn't understand."
Zarya's hands trembled, her power swirling beneath her skin like a storm barely contained. "I've been here, waiting, watching. Doing everything for him! And you just slip away like a thief in the night?"
Lyra took a step back, fear and frustration mixing in her gaze. "You don't own him, Zarya. And you don't own me."
A sudden gust of wind rustled the trees, and Zarya felt the surge inside her intensify. Her hair glowed brighter—silver strands creeping past her temples now. She forced herself to breathe, but her voice cracked with raw emotion.
"I've stood by him when no one else did! I begged for his love! We should have never left the palace. We should've been married by now!"Lyra's eyes softened for a brief moment, then hardened again. "Love isn't something you can demand or force."
Zarya's jaw clenched, tears spilling over despite her fierce anger. "Then why does it feel like you're stealing him from me? Like you're the other woman?"
Lyra's face flickered with surprise—then regret. "I never wanted this to happen..."
For a moment, silence hung between them. The forest seemed to hold its breath. Then, with a trembling hand, Zarya brushed the white strands from her face. Her eyes glowed faintly, sensing her power rising like a tidal wave beneath the surface.
"You should know," she whispered, "my power's awakening. And I won't let you take him without a fight."
Lyra swallowed hard, backing away slowly. "Maybe... maybe it's time to stop fighting."
Zarya's laugh was bitter, echoing in the dark woods. "No. Not yet."
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