The journey from the Thorn-Labyrinth had been an education in endurance. Lyra, shielded by Bari and the Charn-Riders, had focused entirely on strengthening her control. She could now filter the immediate emotions of the tribe down to a manageable hum, a minor victory of discipline over her raw L3.III power.
But the emptiness in her chest—the Eliasian Void—only grew wider, demanding its match.
The plains where The Wind-Eater rested were strange, bathed in a perpetual twilight cast by a dense cluster of nebula dust filtering through the Aether Veil. The massive creature, a living, semi-magical airship, was impossibly large, its shadow covering acres of ground. Its hide was mottled purple and gray, and it generated a low, humming frequency that made the very air vibrate.
Bari warned her: "The Wind-Eater is an entity of the Aether Veil, Lyra. It only communicates through truth and cosmic necessity. Your light may soothe the beasts of Aethelgard, but this creature judges the very essence of your soul."
Lyra stepped forward alone. The Wind-Eater was a chaotic being, and its vastness flooded Lyra's senses not with emotion, but with pure, raw cosmic hunger—a need to move, to cross boundaries, to ingest the chaotic Star Dust that fed its growth. It was a terrifying, beautiful energy signature.
She raised her hands, palms open. She knew she couldn't try to force or command the beast; her Light was not yet disciplined enough for L4 control. She had to offer the one truth that transcended this reality: her love for Elias.
Lyra took a shaky breath and channeled the Living Light deep from the core where Elias's absence ached. She pushed the energy outward, attempting to project a complex, narrated sequence of memories.
ARC L3.III: Initiate, Proficient. She had enough raw energy (Proficient) but only beginner stability (Initiate).
The Light surged, pure gold, flowing from her hands like liquid sun. It touched the Wind-Eater's immense hide, and Lyra used the Whisper to push the complex sequence of images:
A flash of the Earth-Universe.
The feeling of her hand gripping Elias's.
The moment their souls were ripped apart.
The crushing, physical weight of their current separation.
The Wind-Eater reacted violently. It was not anger, but a profound, physical rejection of the foreign energy. Lyra felt the backlash—a wave of chaotic, cosmic Light-Aura that slammed into her own system.
Control! Lyra fought to shape the chaos. She visualized the Light not as a weapon, but as a bridge, a perfect, luminous arc spanning the chasm between their souls.
She pushed the final, most agonizing truth: We are two halves of the World-Binder. We cannot achieve L13 without reunion. You must help us restore the balance of Light and Shadow, or the Rift will destroy everything.
The effort was immense. Lyra's vision swam. The uncontrolled power of the L3.III Light began to consume her. Her skin flushed hot, her nose started bleeding, and a searing pain shot through her chest—the internal feedback loop of overloading her system.
But the message landed.
The Wind-Eater's cosmic hunger momentarily vanished, replaced by an ancient, resigned comprehension. It saw the cosmic scale of their mission.
The beast lowered its massive head, its great, ancient eyes locking on her. A profound, tired thought echoed in Lyra's mind: The cost is too high, Riftbound Soul. The Void Sea burns. But Balance demands it.
Slowly, deliberately, the Wind-Eater shifted. It didn't just move; it folded its immense bulk, creating a temporary, sheltered valley near its neck. An invitation.
Lyra collapsed to her knees, the pain immense, the Light fading back into a manageable pulse. The projection had cost her nearly half her energy reserves. She was safe, but utterly spent.
Bari and the Charn-Riders rushed forward, hoisting Lyra onto her feet.
"You risked too much, child," Bari scolded, examining the trickle of blood from Lyra's nostrils. "That was L4 intent with L3 control. The price of truth is high."
Just then, a flash of sickly, pale green light erupted on the horizon near the Void Sea, followed by a sound like tearing parchment. Bari's eyes went wide.
"Void Keepers," she hissed. "They felt that pulse of Aether energy. They felt your truth, Lyra. The cost is now due."
The massive Wind-Eater shifted once more, sheltering them from the approaching threat. Lyra, leaning against its scaly hide, looked toward the distant Sea—the Sea that held Elias. The journey had begun. Now, they were running for their lives.