Chapter 4
1128 Words
(Lyra’s POV)
A whole year had passed since the strange day at the stream.
Sometimes I still think about it. The man with golden eyes. The woman who attacked me. The way everything felt like a dream and a nightmare mixed together. But after a while, I told myself I must’ve imagined it all. Maybe I hit my head when I fell, and everything else was just a trick of my mind.
Life went on. The seasons changed. The leaves turned gold, then bare, then green again. And I kept living.
I helped Mama with her herbs. I fetched water from the stream, though never from the same place. I walked to the market with my father. I did everything I was supposed to. Everything was slowly going back to normal. The strange memories faded into the background.
And then the Sun-Fire Festival came.
It was the happiest day in the village every year. People decorated their homes with flowers and bright cloth. There was music, dancing, laughter, and food. Everyone dressed in their best clothes, and even the oldest, grumpiest villagers smiled a little more.
I wore my favorite green dress and a daisy crown I made myself. Mama smiled when she saw me. "You look like summer," she said. That made me smile sheepishly too.
The village square was full of life. Children ran around with their faces painted. People danced to the beat of drums and flutes. Stalls were lined with roasted meat, honey cakes, and fresh fruit. It was warm, loud, and perfect.
"Lyra! Come on, they’re lighting the fire!" little Myra, my neighbour’s daughter grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd.
Everyone gathered around the big fire pit in the center of the square. Elder Braem, the oldest man in the village, stood with his arms raised, ready to give the blessing. The firewood was stacked high, ready to burn bright.
But just as he was about to speak, everything changed.
A strange sound echoed through the village, hooves on the stone path. Loud and Slow.
The music stopped. People turned to look at the interruption.
At the entrance to the village stood a man on a tall black horse.
He wore a dark navy cloak lined with gold. His boots were polished, and his gloves were white as snow. His face was mostly covered, a hood shadowed his features, and a dark mask covered the lower half of his face. Only his eyes were visible.
And those eyes…
They were golden and a little too familiar
A strange silence spread over the village as he rode forward. People stepped back to let him through. No one spoke. No one dared.
He stopped near the fire pit, dismounted, and walked forward slowly. His movements were smooth and calm, but his presence was powerful. You could feel it.
He walked straight to Elder Braem and spoke clearly.
“I come in peace,” he said, his voice deep and clear. “And I come with purpose.”
Elder Braem blinked, clearly unsure what to do. “W-what purpose is that, stranger?”
The man looked around the square, then back at Braem. “I’ve come for my future bride.”
The square erupted in whispers.
“Bride?” “Is he serious?” “Who is he talking about?”
Braem frowned. “This is… unexpected. You say you have a bride here?”
“Yes.”
“And… may I ask who she is?”
The man looked around once more.
Then his eyes landed on me.
I froze.
No. No, this couldn’t be happening.
He looked right at me. Like he already knew where I was. Like he’d known all along.
“Her name is Lyra,” he said.
My heart nearly stopped.
The crowd turned to me.
Everyone stared.
“Lyra?” someone whispered. “Our Lyra?”
“That can’t be right.”
“Does she even know him?” I heard whispers from the villagers.
Braem looked at me, then back at the stranger. “This young woman?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “She is the one.”
My legs felt weak. My mouth went dry. I couldn’t speak.
Mother pushed through the crowd to get to me.
“Lyra, what is going on?” Mama asked. “Do you know this man?”
“I—I don’t,” I said quickly.
But I did.
Somewhere deep inside, I remembered those eyes. The forest. The moment before I blacked out.
He nodded slowly, as if he knew I was remembering. “You don’t remember me,” he said softly.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice barely louder than a whisper.
The memories of that day came rushing down like a whirlwind and I heard Elder Braem challenge his intentions.
“I don’t intend to take her by force,” the man said. “I only wish to speak with her alone. To prove myself. If she chooses me, she will come willingly and if she doesn't, I'll gladly leave ”
The crowd didn’t know what to make of it.
Some people looked curious. Others looked angry. A few girls looked jealous. And everyone was staring at me.
I wanted to run.
But I couldn’t move.
The man bowed slightly to Braem, then turned and walked away. He headed toward the inn, leaving the square silent and confused.
I stood in place, heart pounding, breath caught in my chest.
The memories. The eyes. The way he said I was his bride.
What did he mean?
And why now?
Everything in my life had been normal until today.
Now nothing felt normal at all.
Who does he think he is to think he can just waltz into the village square and demand my hand in marriage after his mate or whatever she called herself attacked me.
After much deliberation, I headed to the inn to have a conversation with him. For some weird reason, instead of being scared, I felt a strange sense of calmness like this was supposed to happen.
Pushing the door open, I stepped inside. The main room was empty except for a woman behind the counter who looked up, startled. She opened her mouth, then quickly closed it again.
Before I could speak, she pointed up the stairs. “Second door on the right,” she said softly.
I nodded, my heart now thudding again in my chest.
With each step up the stairs, the wooden boards creaked beneath my feet. I hesitated in front of the second door, staring at th
e handle.
Then I knocked.
A pause.
Then his voice, calm, low, and familiar.
“Come in.”
I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
- Writer
