THE EDGE OF THE HUMAN REALM
441 Words
The gallery in California smelled like oil paint and money.
Zyphyra kept her hood low. Her face was wrong today. Paler. Sharper. A glamour that cost her sleep. No one in this city knew what the "Crest Painter" looked like. And she planned to keep it that way.
Her paintings watched from every wall.
A boy drowning in black water.
A throne split down the middle.
A girl with a scar on her wrist glowing like a star.
_Bloodsense._ Futures she never asked to see.
The bell chimed.
Silk brushed her arm.
“Excuse me.”
White hair. Silver eyes. Dressed like old money.
Lysandra. She crossed realms to get away from Velmora. Nobody here knew she was celestial.
“I’m sorry,” Lysandra said, staring at the painting of the scarred girl. “I’ve seen this in dreams.”
Zyphyra’s fingers twitched. _Don’t react._
“You have expensive taste.”
Lysandra smiled. Tired. Real.
“I collect artists who see the truth. You’re the artist, aren’t you? Why are you always in disguise?”
Zyphyra’s blood went cold. _She knows._
“People pay more when they think I’m dead.”
“My family thinks I’m shopping in Beverly Hills,” Lysandra whispered, pressing a black and gold card into her hand. No seal. Just a number. “Don’t tell them I came here. The paintings are worth it.”
Then she turned. And left.
But Zyphyra saw him.
In the corner. Shadowed. Gold eyes.
Caelvorn.
He wasn’t looking at the art.
He was watching Lysandra.
Every step she took.
He followed her out.
Zyphyra’s heart dropped.
_He knows lysandra is not human._
Step one of her plan was already in motion and she didn’t even start it.
---
Two hours later, at the edge of Human realm
The sky bled red.
Zyphyra tracked them from the rooftops. Caelvorn and Lukevon. Heading toward the wastelands. Toward the Vault.
Black smoke curled in the distance.
Lukevon’s voice carried on the wind.
“MY LORD! The Crest! Where are its whereabouts? Velmira found nothing! If the Velmora princess reaches it first—”
Caelvorn didn’t answer. He was staring at the horizon.
“I saw her in the gallery,” he said. Low. Dangerous. “She needs to die
He didn’t know about Zyphyra.
He didn’t know she was watching from 30 feet above him.
Zyphyra’s wrist burned.
If Caelvorn reached the Vault before her...
If Lysandra died...
Her plans would be ruined.
Velmora would burn.
And it would be her fault.
She shifted. Bones cracking.
A red crescent snake slipped off the roof and into the sand.
Chasing them to the Vault.
- Writer
