Astra Fracta

Chapter Eight: Shadows on the Lake.

The path sloped gently downward, trading broken stone and jagged cliffs for soft grass and open air. The farther we moved from the mountain, the more the world seemed to breathe again. Wind passed freely here, cool and light, carrying with it the clean scent of water and wild reeds.

Eimora Lake stretched wide before us. Its surface reflected the sky like a polished mirror, streaked with gold and pale violet as the sun descended toward the horizon. Gentle ripples spread outward where the breeze touched the water, and tall reeds whispered softly along the shore. Smooth stones lined the edge, some half-submerged, others warmed by the fading light. Beyond the lake, clusters of trees stood in uneven lines, their shadows long and watchful.

It looked peaceful. Too peaceful.

I slowed my steps, instinctively tightening my grip on the sword. The warmth inside it pulsed faintly, like a quiet warning humming beneath my skin.

Tiva stopped beside me, eyes sharp, ears flicking as she scanned the area. “Yeah… I don’t like this,” she muttered.

“…You say that about everywhere,” I replied, though my voice lacked confidence.

She shot me a look. “And how many times have I been wrong?” she said lightly.

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Exactly.

We continued forward, our footsteps soft against the grass. The air felt different here—charged, tense in a way that made my shoulders stiffen. I couldn’t explain it, but it felt like the lake was watching us.

Tiva stepped ahead and raised her voice, loud and clear. “Leora! We’re here!” she said.

Her call echoed faintly across the water. Nothing answered.

Tiva frowned. “Of course. She’s probably hiding again,” she muttered.

“Hiding?” I asked.

Instead of replying, Tiva cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey! Archer! If you don’t come out right now, I swear I’ll—” she shouted.

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

An arrow of pure energy formed midair and struck a rock inches from Tiva’s foot, exploding in a flash of light.

“…Finish that sentence,” a calm voice said.

I blinked. A figure stepped into view atop a flat stone near the lake’s edge. Leora stood tall, bow in hand—though no string or quiver was visible. Power gathered naturally around her, flowing from her body into the shape of a glowing arrow resting against her palm. She hadn’t even moved much.

“…That was fast,” I murmured.

Tiva grinned, completely unfazed. “There you are. Took you long enough,” she said lightly.

Leora’s eyes flicked to me briefly, sharp and assessing, before returning to Tiva. “You’re loud,” she said.

“You love me,” Tiva replied.

“I tolerate you,” Leora said evenly.

“That’s affection,” Tiva said.

Leora sighed softly.

Before I could process their exchange, a rustle came from the trees. Then another.

The shadows near the lake’s edge twisted unnaturally, pulling themselves free from the ground. Creatures emerged—low, jagged forms with stone-like skin and glowing eyes that moved in erratic, unnatural jerks. They weren’t large, but there were many of them.

My heart jumped. “Uh… company?” I asked.

Leora’s posture shifted instantly. Calm. Focused. She stepped forward slightly, eyes never leaving the creatures. “Stay back,” she said evenly. “Both of you.”

Tiva glanced at me. “You heard her. Sit. Watch. Learn,” she said lightly.

“…You’re serious?” I asked.

“Dead serious,” Leora said.

One of the creatures lunged.

Leora moved. Energy surged from her, forming an arrow brighter than the last. She released it with a flick of her wrist. It tore through the air and struck the creature cleanly, shattering part of its stone-like armor. It screeched and collapsed into the shallow water. Another followed. Then another.

Leora didn’t rush. Each arrow formed naturally, shaped by her power, released with perfect timing. No wasted movement. No hesitation.

I stared, barely breathing. “…She’s not even aiming in panic,” I whispered.

Tiva nodded. “Because panic gets you killed,” she said softly.

One creature slipped past Leora’s line. Tiva stepped in. Her blade flashed, cutting a clean arc through the air. Energy sparked as it struck the creature, splitting it apart before it could reach us.

And just like that—it was over. Silence returned to the lake.

I exhaled shakily. “…That was it?” I asked.

Leora lowered her hand, the glow fading. “These were scouts. Weak. Curious,” she said.

“Scouts for what?” I asked.

“For things that don’t die this easily,” Leora said. That did not help.

We regrouped near the water, the tension easing slightly but never fully fading. I finally relaxed my grip on the sword, my hands trembling faintly.

“You didn’t intervene,” Leora said.

“You told me not to,” I said.

A faint nod. “Good. You watched,” she said.

“…I think,” I muttered.

Tiva laughed. “Translation: his brain is still catching up,” she said lightly.

I hesitated, then asked, “So… this place. Caelman. You said it’s safe?”

Leora nodded. “Safer than most. That’s why Luneth was built here,” she said.

“Luneth is the kingdom, right?” I asked.

“The capital,” she corrected. “Caelman is the region. Luneth is its heart,” she said.

I glanced toward the distant horizon, where faint silhouettes of towers barely broke through the evening haze. “Why here?” I asked.

“Natural defenses. Mountains behind. Water in front. Trade routes nearby,” Leora explained. “And power.”

“Power?” I echoed.

Tiva smirked. “Magic veins run under this land. Old ones,” she said lightly.

I frowned. “That sounds… dangerous,” I said.

“It is,” Leora replied. “That’s why control matters.”

I swallowed, then asked the question that had been nagging at me. “Who rules Luneth?”

Leora’s expression shifted slightly. “Count Magnus,” she said.

Tiva groaned dramatically. “Ah yes. His grumpiness incarnate,” she said lightly.

Leora shot her a warning look.

“What?” Tiva shrugged. “I’m not wrong,” she said.

I looked between them. “Count Magnus?” I asked.

“He governs Luneth,” Leora explained. “Strategist. Politician. Not weak.”

“Not friendly either,” Tiva added. “Unless you’re useful.”

“…Am I useful?” I asked quietly.

Leora studied me. “That depends on what you become,” she said.

Tiva leaned in with a grin. “No pressure,” she said lightly.

As Leora continued explaining Luneth’s districts, trade zones, and surrounding regions, Tiva kept interrupting with comments, jokes, and exaggerated gestures.

“And here’s the eastern quarter—” Tiva said.

“Where rich people pretend they don’t see poverty,” I muttered.

“Tiva,” Leora said sharply.

“And the academy—” Tiva added.

“Where you yelled at students until they cried,” I said.

“They were undisciplined,” Tiva said.

“They were twelve,” I said.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

Leora stopped mid-sentence, turned slowly, and shoved Tiva sideways.

Tiva yelped as she splashed straight into the lake. Water exploded upward. “…RUDE!” she shouted, resurfacing, hair soaked, ears flat.

“You were interrupting,” Leora said.

I stared—then burst out laughing.

Tiva glared at both of us. “…I hope a fish bites you,” she muttered.

As the laughter faded and the city lights of Luneth grew clearer ahead, something settled inside me. This wasn’t just a journey. It was preparation. And whatever waited beyond those walls—I would face It.