Chapter Four: Echoes in the Dark

Lyra woke to the sound of crackling firewood and the faint hum of conversation outside her tent. The ache in her legs reminded her of the frantic escape from the village and the long trek through the forest. She sat up slowly, pushing aside the scratchy blanket someone had thrown over her. The air inside the tent was cold, and her breath fogged faintly as she exhaled.

She stepped outside, blinking against the pale morning light. The camp sprawled before her in the clearing, a strange mix of activity and calm. Small fires dotted the area, their smoke curling into the chilly air. Echo-Binders practiced their powers in corners of the camp: sparks of light and bursts of shadow flashed intermittently, accompanied by the occasional low hum of energy. Others worked quietly, sharpening weapons or preparing supplies.

Kieran leaned against a tree near one of the fires, his crescent-shaped birthmark visible on his wrist as he lazily spun a dagger between his fingers. He caught her eye and smirked.

"Morning, rogue," he said. "Sleep well?"

"Better than I expected," Lyra replied, ignoring the taunt.

"Good. You'll need your energy. The Harmonium doesn't take weekends off."

Before Lyra could respond, Rowan appeared at her side, carrying a steaming cup. "Don't listen to him," she said, handing Lyra the drink. "He likes to scare people. It's how he compensates for being insufferable."

Kieran mockingly placed a hand over his heart. "You wound me, flower girl."

Rowan rolled her eyes and turned back to Lyra. "The elder said she'd like to speak with you this morning. She's waiting by the central fire."

Lyra nodded, the tension from yesterday returning to her chest. She still wasn't sure what she was doing here—or what these people expected from her. But if the elder could help her understand what had happened in the village, she couldn't afford to waste time.

The elder was seated on a low bench near the largest fire in the camp. She was sorting through a pile of herbs, her silver hair catching the light. As Lyra approached, the elder glanced up and gestured for her to sit.

"You've had an eventful few days," the elder said, her tone calm but direct. "Tell me what you know about your Echo."

Lyra hesitated, clasping her hands in her lap. "Not much. I've always thought I was Sorrow, but…" She swallowed hard. "What happened in the village—whatever that was—it didn't feel like Sorrow."

The elder's sharp eyes studied her for a moment, then she reached into a pouch at her side and pulled out a small, smooth crystal. "Hold this," she said, placing it in Lyra's hand. "Focus on your Echo. Let it flow naturally."

Lyra frowned but obeyed, closing her fingers around the crystal. She closed her eyes and reached for the strange energy inside her, the same energy that had erupted in the village. It felt like stepping into a cold, endless void—vast and unknowable.

A faint hum filled the air. When Lyra opened her eyes, the crystal in her hand was glowing faintly, its light fractured and uneven. The elder's expression shifted, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"What is it?" Lyra asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You are not pure Sorrow," the elder said slowly. "There is something else. Something… unstable."

The words sent a chill through Lyra. She tightened her grip on the crystal. "What does that mean?"

"It means your Echo doesn't fit neatly into the system the Harmonium has built," the elder said. "And that makes you dangerous—to them, and possibly to yourself."

Lyra's chest tightened. She thought of the villagers' fearful whispers, the way they had looked at her as though she were a monster.

"I don't want to hurt anyone," she said.

"Then you must learn control," the elder said firmly. "Your Echo is powerful, but power without understanding is chaos. If you wish to survive—and to protect those you care about—you must master it."

Lyra nodded, her resolve hardening. "Then teach me."

The elder's gaze softened, and she nodded. "Very well. But understand this: the path you are about to walk is not an easy one. It will demand everything you have."

"I don't care," Lyra said. "I'll do whatever it takes."

The elder smiled faintly. "Good. Then we begin."