Chapter 23: Eren vision

Chapter 23: Eren vision Lyra moved through the winding corridors of the palace with purpose, her steps swift but measured. The information Eren had shared weighed heavily on her mind, demanding action while requiring discretion. The western aqueduct—a vulnerable point they’d never considered. If Thornvale had indeed found a way to compromise their water supply... She reached the small council chamber where her mother often retreated during midday to review reports away from the bustle of the great hall. As expected, Elysia sat surrounded by maps and correspondence, her silver-streaked hair pulled back severely from her face, the tips of her pointed elven ears visible through the strands. What Lyra hadn’t anticipated was Sorrel’s presence, her younger sister lounging near the window, twirling a dagger absently between her slender fingers. Sorrel looked up first, her keen emerald eyes registering Lyra’s tension immediately. The scattered light from the window caught on the subtle markings along her cheekbones that hadn’t yet developed the luminescence of full maturity. "You look like someone who’s discovered scorpions in their boots," she remarked, straightening. "What troubles you, sister?" Elysia glanced up from her papers. "Lyra? I thought you were training with Eren." "We finished early," Lyra replied, closing the door firmly behind her. She approached the table, hesitating only briefly before continuing. "I believe we may have a security concern that requires immediate attention." Elysia’s expression sharpened. "Explain." "The western aqueduct may be compromised," Lyra said simply. "Specifically at the section passing through the old quarry." Sorrel abandoned her position by the window, moving to the table where a detailed map of their territory lay spread. "That’s nearly five leagues from our walls, well beyond our regular patrol routes." Her finger traced the blue line representing the aqueduct. "What makes you suspect this particular location?" Here was the question Lyra had been preparing for since leaving the garden. "One of my agents reported unusual activity in the area three days ago. I didn’t think much of it initially, but after reviewing our water security protocols this morning, I realized the vulnerability." Elysia studied her daughter’s face intently. "You’ve never mentioned this agent before." "For good reason," Lyra countered smoothly. "They move beyond our borders regularly. If I reported on every shadow they investigated, we’d spend all day in council." ’Half-truths make the most convincing lies,’ Lyra thought to herself, maintaining her steady gaze. Sorrel’s eyes narrowed fractionally. "Curious timing, given our discussion of poison detection methods just yesterday." There was a familiar skepticism in her tone—the same doubt she’d harbored toward Eren since they were elflings together. "This wouldn’t have anything to do with your peculiar friend, would it?" "Perhaps that’s what triggered my concern," Lyra acknowledged, neither confirming nor denying her sister’s implication. She could use Sorrel’s long-standing wariness of Eren to her advantage here. Elysia tapped her fingers against the table, a rhythmic pattern that signaled her deliberation. "Who knows of this suspicion?" "Only those in this room," Lyra said. "And I’d like to keep it that way." "You want to send scouts," Elysia stated. "A small team. Four of my most trusted. If I’m wrong, no harm done." "And if you’re right?" Sorrel asked, something in her tone suggesting she was looking for confirmation of her suspicions about Eren’s involvement. Lyra met her younger sister’s gaze directly. "Then we’ll have detected a threat before it manifested." The room fell silent as Elysia considered. Finally, she nodded. "Select your team. But I want Kiran to accompany them." Lyra stiffened slightly. Kiran was her mother’s spymaster—brilliant but notoriously difficult to deceive. "Is that necessary? My people are capable—" "It’s not a question of capability," Elysia interrupted. "Kiran has extensive knowledge of Thornvale’s sabotage techniques from the previous war. Her expertise could prove valuable." ’And she’ll report everything directly to you,’ Lyra thought but did not say. "Of course," she acquiesced instead. "I’ll brief her immediately." Elysia nodded, returning her attention to her papers in dismissal. Lyra turned to leave, but Sorrel fell into step beside her. "I’ll walk with you," Sorrel said casually. "I could use the exercise after sitting through those tedious trade negotiations all morning." Once they were well beyond earshot of the council chamber, Sorrel guided Lyra into a small antechamber used for storing archived maps. She closed the door and leaned against it, arms crossed. "Now tell me what’s really happening," Sorrel demanded, though her voice remained low. "That story about an agent was skillfully delivered, but I know when you’re lying, elder sister. This has Eren’s fingerprints all over it." Lyra hesitated, weighing her options. Of all her siblings, Sorrel was perhaps the most pragmatic—and the most unpredictable. And her suspicion of Eren could be either a hindrance or an asset. "What makes you think I’m not telling the truth?" "Because I’ve had my own eyes on the western territories for months," Sorrel replied. "Any unusual activity would have reached me first." She stepped closer. "This came from Eren, didn’t it? Another one of her ’feelings’ that you insist on treating as gospel." Lyra’s surprise must have shown on her face, because Sorrel smiled—not unkindly. "You forget I was there when Eren first claimed to hear the water speaking to her," Sorrel said softly, skepticism evident in her tone. "I’ve watched you champion her peculiarities for years while the rest of us questioned her motives. What has she told you this time that has you so alarmed?" Relief and wariness mingled in Lyra’s chest. "Why are you so determined to doubt her after all this time?" Sorrel’s expression grew serious. "Because blind faith is dangerous, especially in times like these. Some gifts are real, others are fabricated for attention or advantage." She shook her head. "I’ve never understood your unwavering trust in her." "And yet you’re here, offering to help investigate her warning," Lyra observed dryly. "I’m here to protect our kingdom," Sorrel replied. "And to ensure we’re not chasing shadows while real threats gather." She sighed, running a hand through her short-cropped hair. "Tell me what Eren claims to have seen." Lyra described the morning’s training session and Eren’s visceral reaction to the void he’d sensed in the water’s flow. "She seemed certain, Sorrel. I couldn’t ignore it." "Nor should you," Sorrel agreed, surprising Lyra. "But sending Kiran complicates matters. She’s shrewd—she’ll report everything back to Mother, including any suspicions about your source." "What do you suggest?" Sorrel thought for a moment. "Let me join the scouting party." "You?" Lyra couldn’t hide her surprise. Sorrel rarely left the palace these days, preferring to command from afar rather than participate directly in missions. "I can keep an eye on both the threat and on Kiran’s investigation," Sorrel explained. "Besides, I’ve been itching for some action. Court politics grow tedious after a while." She paused, meeting Lyra’s gaze directly. "And I want to see for myself if Eren’s warnings hold any water this time." Lyra studied her sister. There had always been more to Sorrel than most people realized—beneath the facade of the cynical courtier lay the heart of a warrior who was determined to prove herself. "Very well," Lyra agreed. "We leave at dusk. Light travel, swift horses." Sorrel nodded. "I’ll meet you at the eastern postern. And Lyra—" she placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder "—we should discuss what to tell Eren if this proves to be a false alarm. Again." "When we return," Lyra promised. ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ The old quarry lay silent under the pale light of the rising moon, its stone faces gleaming silver where the moisture from the hidden aqueduct seeped through ancient cracks. Six riders approached cautiously, having left their horses tethered in a wooded grove half a league back. Kiran moved at the front, her slender form barely distinguishable from the shadows. Behind her came Sorrel and Lyra, with three of Lyra’s most trusted scouts forming a protective arc around them. "No signs of disturbance," Kiran murmured as they reached the concealed entrance to the aqueduct inspection tunnel. "The wards are intact." Lyra frowned. Eren had been so certain. ’Perhaps I misunderstood what she sensed,’ she thought, disquieted by the possibility. Sorrel crouched, examining the ground near the entrance. "The soil is undisturbed. No footprints beyond our regular patrols from three days ago." Kiran produced a small crystal from her tunic—a detection charm sensitive to foreign substances. She passed it slowly over the iron grate that protected the tunnel entrance. The crystal remained clear, showing no trace of the cloudy red that would indicate poison or the murky green of magical tampering. "We should still check inside," Lyra insisted, unwilling to dismiss Eren’s warning so quickly. Kiran nodded, though her expression suggested she considered this an exercise in unnecessary caution. She disarmed the wards with practiced ease, and the small party entered the inspection tunnel one by one. The passage ran parallel to the aqueduct itself, with small viewing windows cut into the stone every few paces, allowing inspectors to monitor the water without contaminating it. The air was cool and damp, heavy with minerals and the musty scent of ancient stone. They moved methodically, checking each inspection window, testing the water repeatedly with Kiran’s detection crystals. An hour passed, then two. Nothing. "There’s nothing here," one of the scouts finally said, voicing what they had all begun to suspect. Lyra leaned against the tunnel wall in frustration. ’Why would Eren sense something so strongly if there was no threat?’ The question troubled her deeply. Sorrel approached, keeping her voice low. "Perhaps we should consider that your friend was wrong," she said, though not unkindly. "It wouldn’t be the first time her... perceptions... led us astray." "Or perhaps I’ve sent us on a fool’s errand," Lyra replied bitterly. Kiran appeared at their side, her face illuminated by the soft glow of her detection crystal. "If there was a plan to sabotage the aqueduct, our presence may have deterred it," she suggested diplomatically, though Lyra detected skepticism beneath her words. "Regardless, I’ll recommend increased patrols in this sector." "A reasonable precaution," Sorrel agreed. As they prepared to exit the tunnel, Lyra lingered, staring into one of the inspection windows at the rushing water beyond. The aqueduct channeled water from the mountains directly to the city’s reservoirs—a marvel of ancient engineering that had sustained their kingdom for centuries. So vital, so vulnerable. ’What did you really see, Eren?’ she wondered silently. ’Was it a warning of what might be, rather than what is?’ Sorrel’s hand on her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts. "We should return before dawn. Mother will be waiting for our report." The ride back to the palace was quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Lyra found herself rehearsing what she would say to Eren, how she would explain the fruitless mission without diminishing the importance of trusting these new abilities. As they approached the city walls, the first light of dawn breaking over the eastern mountains, Sorrel drew her horse alongside Lyra’s. "Don’t doubt yourself," she said quietly, surprising Lyra with her gentleness. "You acted on what you believed was a credible warning. Better to investigate a hundred false alarms than miss one real threat." She paused before adding, "Though perhaps we should discuss how much faith to put in Eren’s visions going forward." Lyra nodded, grateful for her sister’s understanding despite her reservations. Yet as they passed through the gates into the sleeping city, a persistent unease remained. Not because they had found nothing, but because she couldn’t shake the feeling that they had somehow missed something vital—something hiding in plain sight, waiting to be discovered. The water continued to flow, pure and clear. For now.