Chapter5 -The Riverbank
1251 Words
Lyra finished the last movement slowly.
Step.
Turn.
Strike.
The stick cut through the air and then came to a stop in front of her.
For a moment she stayed like that, arms extended, breath steadying in her chest.
The forest had gone quiet again.
Kael’s footsteps had long since disappeared into the trees, but the tension he left behind lingered in the air like the fading echo of thunder.
Lyra lowered the stick.
Her stomach still hurt where his fist had landed. A deep ache sat just beneath her ribs, dull but stubborn.
She pressed a hand there briefly and winced.
Then she exhaled.
It would fade.
Everything always did.
The night air had cooled while she practiced. The damp scent of moss and pine clung to the clearing, and somewhere in the distance an owl called softly.
Lyra rested the stick against her shoulder and started walking back toward the estate.
The path wound through the trees, familiar enough that she didn’t need to think about where her feet were going.
The iron collar around her neck felt heavy again.
Not burning this time.
Just there.
Always there.
By the time the estate came into view, the sky had already begun to soften toward morning.
A pale gray glow stretched across the horizon.
Servants would be waking soon.
The kitchens would start filling with noise.
Lyra slipped quietly through the back door before anyone could notice her coming in.
She didn’t head upstairs.
Instead, she grabbed a wooden bucket from beside the wall and slipped back outside through the side gate.
The path down to the river was narrow and worn smooth by years of footsteps.
It was where the pack’s lower-ranking families washed clothes.
The place where servants worked.
The place where no one important ever bothered to go.
Which made it peaceful.
The river itself moved lazily between smooth stones, the water clear enough to see the pale sand beneath it. Early sunlight glimmered faintly across the surface.
Lyra knelt beside one of the flat rocks near the water’s edge and began scrubbing a cloth against the stone.
The cold water stung her fingers.
But she didn’t mind.
The quiet helped settle her thoughts.
Her shoulder still ached from the stone that had struck it days ago during practice. Her stomach still held the fading bruise from Kael’s punch.
But the river didn’t care about bruises.
The water simply kept moving.
She had almost finished the first bundle when a familiar voice rang across the riverbank.
“Lyra!”
Lyra turned.
A girl about her age hurried down the path toward her.
Short black hair bounced around her jawline as she ran, and her sharp gray eyes lit up the moment she spotted Lyra.
Her grin was bright enough to chase away half the morning gloom.
“Sera.”
Relief spread quietly through Lyra’s chest.
Sera slowed when she reached the riverbank, catching her breath as she brushed stray strands of hair away from her face.
“You disappeared again,” she said, leaning casually against a wooden washing counter nearby.
Lyra shrugged slightly.
“It’s quiet here.”
Sera glanced around the riverbank.
“Quiet is good,” she said. “The estate is chaos this morning – with all the ‘royals’ returning from the hunt.”
Lyra smiled faintly.
“That sounds normal.”
Sera’s eyes flicked to the bucket beside Lyra.
“You’re working already?” she asked.
Lyra dipped another cloth into the water.
“Someone has to.”
Sera studied her for a moment, then reached toward a nearby tray someone had left behind and grabbed a piece of bread.
Before Lyra could say anything, Sera tossed it to her.
“Eat.”
Lyra caught it automatically.
“That’s not mine.”
Sera shrugged.
“It is now.”
Lyra hesitated for half a second.
Then she took a bite.
The bread was still warm.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
They sat together on an overturned crate beside the river while the water moved steadily past the stones.
Lyra chewed slowly.
Sera stretched her legs out in front of her and leaned back on her hands.
“You ever notice,” Sera said after a moment, “how everyone pretends this place is important?”
Lyra glanced at her.
“The estate?”
“Yeah.”
Sera gestured vaguely toward the distant buildings barely visible through the trees.
“Big halls. Big titles. Big egos.”
Lyra laughed softly.
“You’re going to get yourself in trouble talking like that.”
Sera grinned.
“I get in trouble for breathing.”
Lyra shook her head.
But the quiet between them felt comfortable.
Easy.
Which was rare.
Sera was the only one in the pack who spoke to her like a normal person.
Not like a mistake.
Not like something broken.
Just…Lyra.
They had been sitting there only a few minutes when voices drifted down the path.
Several girls from the pack approached the riverbank carrying baskets of laundry.
Their chatter faded the moment they spotted Sera.
The shift was immediate.
Sneers.
Whispers.
One of them rolled her eyes.
“Well, look who it is.”
Another girl scoffed loudly.
“The mute.”
Sera’s posture stiffened slightly beside Lyra.
But her face stayed neutral.
Everyone in the pack knew what she was.
Or what they believed she was.
A wolf who couldn’t shift.
A wolf who had never answered the call of transformation.
To them, that made her defective.
Something lesser.
Lyra felt the tension ripple through the air.
The girls walked closer.
One of them bent down and picked up a small stone from the riverbank.
She tossed it lightly in her palm while staring directly at Sera.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said.
“This place is for wolves.”
Sera said nothing.
The stone flew.
Lyra didn’t think.
Her body moved before her mind could catch up.
She stepped forward.
The rock struck her shoulder instead.
A sharp sting shot down her arm.
The girls blinked.
Lyra stood between them and Sera now.
Her posture straight.
Her expression calm.
The silence stretched.
None of the girls seemed quite sure what to do with that.
Finally one of them scoffed.
“Whatever.”
They turned away with exaggerated boredom and walked further down the riverbank to begin washing their clothes.
The moment they were far enough away, Sera exhaled slowly.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Lyra rolled her shoulder slightly.
“It’s fine.”
Sera studied her.
Her sharp gray eyes softened.
“You’re terrible at pretending things don’t hurt.”
Lyra looked out toward the river.
“I’m used to it.”
Sera was quiet for a moment.
Then she leaned closer.
Closer than usual.
Her voice dropped slightly.
“Lyra.”
Lyra glanced at her.
Something in Sera’s expression had changed.
The easy grin was gone.
Now she looked thoughtful.
Curious.
“You ever notice something strange?” Sera asked softly.
Lyra frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Sera tilted her head slightly, studying her.
Her gray eyes lingered on Lyra’s chest.
Then she said quietly,
“Your heart.”
Lyra blinked.
“My heart?”
Sera nodded once.
“Yeah.”
She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice to a whisper.
The river murmured behind them.
The morning breeze stirred the leaves overhead.
And Sera said softly,
“It’s screaming so loud I can hear it.”
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