The flames of Aerya

The Air was heavy. When Lya plunged. Into an intense, vivid dream. She found herself again. In the temple's heart. But now everything: more intense. The walls vibrated. With a pulsing energy. The air charged. With electricity. It made her skin tingle. The sculptures, once still. They danced. In living shadows. Watching her. With eyes that seemed to know. Her every secret.

A golden light erupted. Enveloping her. In a warm embrace. Ethereal figures emerged. Beautiful, indistinct. Whispering secrets. In a language. That echoed like music. Among them, one stood out. Radiating mystery, power. When it reached out its hand. Lya felt a wave of heat. Invade her. An uncontrollable desire took hold. Pulling her. To the temple's center. But when her fingers touched. The intense light. Everything collapsed. In a dizzying swirl.

She woke up gasping. The dream's remnants. Still burned her skin. The intense smell of incense. Mixed with something metallic - perhaps iron. The hard mattress beneath her. Contrasted. With the vision's lightness. The vaulted ceiling. Adorned with symbols. That vibrated slightly. As her consciousness returned.

She tried to sit up. But felt a weight. On her wrists. Not chains. But bracelets. Of a strange metal. That radiated a soft blue glow. The room she was in. Of light stone. With delicate arches. And high windows. That let in golden light. The projected shadows danced. As if they had a will of their own. The silence was dense. Broken only by the sound of footsteps. Approaching.

A tall woman appeared. Wrapped in dark cloaks. With silver threads. Forming arcane patterns. Her silver hair reflected the light. Supernaturally. And her violet eyes. Gleamed. With a cold curiosity.

"You're awake." Her voice echoed. Firm. And full of authority. "How can I call you, dear?"

Lya hesitated. Her mind still trying. To process what had happened.

"Lya... Where am I?"

The woman tilted her head. Studying her. As if she were a rare enigma.

"You're in Aerya. The capital of sorcerers. A place where outsiders. Don't usually survive."

Lya's heart raced. "Sorcerers?" The word seemed. From an ancient tale. But there was nothing fanciful. About that place.

"We found you. Near the Ruins of Nareth," the woman continued, "a forbidden territory. Even for us. How did you get there?"

Lya tried to remember. But all that remained. Was the temple. The light. And... the void.

"I... don't know." Her voice came out. In a whisper.

The woman didn't seem surprised.

"I'm Arwen. High Sorceress of the Council of Aerya. You'll stay here. Until we understand. Who you are... and what you are. And you'll never be alone." Her gaze rested for a moment. On the bracelets on her wrists. "Eren will be your constant companion. He'll be for your protection. And ours."

At that moment, the door opened. And a young man. With black hair and gray eyes. He entered the room. His smile was mischievous. But his eyes carried. A spark of curiosity.

"Lya, this is Eren. He'll be with you. At all times." Arwen announced. Naturally.

Eren looked Lya up and down. And whistled softly.

"Strange clothes. No wonder you attracted attention," he commented. Amused. "Don't worry, you'll get used to this place... or at least try."

Arwen sighed. And turned to leave.

"I'll get you. More appropriate clothes. Meanwhile, Eren, make sure. She understands. The basic rules here. And above all, that she doesn't get into trouble."

Eren grinned. Clearly entertained.

"Yes, ma'am. But I don't promise miracles."

"How did you find me?" she asked. Crossing her arms.

Eren leaned against the wall. His eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Arwen had a vision. About you. She sent the troops. To the ruins. Even before she was sure. What they were looking for." He tilted his head. "Seems you're more important. Than you think."

Lya frowned.

"So it was she. Who had me brought here... And now I'm here. Without understanding. Anything that's happening."

Eren chuckled softly.

"Welcome to Aerya. Where nothing makes sense. But everything has a purpose. And it seems that now, that purpose. Involves you... and me."

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Arwen the day before

The smell of the night was dense. Heavy with the aroma. Of herbs burned in temples. And the iron of blood spilled. Far from civil eyes. Arwen walked. Through the corridors. Of the Arcanists' Tower. Her steps silent. On the enchanted marble. Aerya never truly slept. Even at that hour. She could feel the echoes. Of magic flowing. Through the walls. Sustaining the invisible defenses. That protected the capital.

In the Council's main hall. The ethereal crystals shone. In shades of amber and blue. Pulsating. With the energies of the day. That had passed. Only the crackle was heard. Of the enchanted flames. In the suspended torches. And the distant whisper. Of the magical wind. That circulated between the towers. Arwen stopped. Before the large black mirror. In the center of the chamber. It was not an ordinary mirror. It was an eye.

"Show me."

The liquid surface vibrated. And the image of a young woman. Unconscious. Appeared. Her skin pale. Her hair disheveled. And her breathing slow. But steady. They found her. Near the Ruins of Nareth. A place where not even the most daring sorcerers. Dared to go. Without protection. No marks. No arcane symbols engraved on her skin. And yet, Arwen felt it. Something within her. Said that this young woman. Was not just a lost stranger.

"Lya." she murmured. Testing the name. That the sentinels discovered. Among her feverish ramblings. It was not in Aerya's records. Nor among the neighboring peoples. An enigma without origin. Brought by the currents of destiny.

She closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath. The Council wanted answers. The sorcerers were uneasy. With the war. And any unidentified presence. Was a potential threat. If Lya was a piece. In this ancient game. Arwen needed to discover. Which side she belonged to.

The surface of the mirror darkened. Hiding the vision. Arwen turned. Her dark robes flowing around her. Like living shadows.

It was time. To wake the foreigner.