Lyena was three now.
She woke early, excitement fluttering in her chest. Mira had promised to take her out today, and she could hardly wait. While waiting, she wandered to the desk where Mira always wrote her letters. Her small fingers brushed a glimmering locket. She opened it. Inside, a symbol: two phoenixes rearing up, meeting in the middle—one red, one blue.
"What is this?" Lyena whispered.
Mira entered the room quietly, smiling softly. "It's a symbol that means a lot to me," she said. Her voice carried calm authority, but she didn't explain why.
Lyena nodded, intrigued, and gently set the locket down. Soon, they left the house, stepping into a world of stones, voices, and smells that made her head spin. She held Mira's hand tightly.
The streets were alive. But the attention they drew was not gentle. People stared. Some whispered. Some turned their heads. Some stepped aside. Lyena frowned.
The streets were alive. But the attention they drew was not gentle. People stared. Some whispered. Some turned their heads. Some stepped aside. Lyena frowned.
"Do they not like me?" she asked softly.
"They don't know you," Mira said. "People fear what they don't understand."
They moved through the village where Mira helped those who were sick or injured. Whispers followed them—some accusing Mira of witchcraft. She ignored them, her focus unbroken.
Excited, Lyena ran back toward the house. But when Mira arrived shortly after, she saw the house in flames. Smoke curled into the sky, and panic surged through her.
Inside, Lyena lay on the scorched floor, her small body broken. Her arms and legs had been severed, blood pooling around her. Mira's heart clenched like iron. Rage and desperation boiled inside her, but she acted instantly.
She knelt beside Lyena, closing her eyes. A surge of raw power erupted from her. Light shimmered in impossible colors, threads of energy twisting around her like serpents of pure force. The flames hissed, recoiling from her presence, curling back as her aura expanded.
Her hands hovered above Lyena's shattered form. She whispered words older than the world itself, her voice echoing with resonance that bent reality. Energy streamed from her fingertips, weaving around Lyena's limbs, stitching flesh and bone together with threads of living light.
Every heartbeat, every cell responded. Limbs reformed, skin knit seamlessly, blood vanished, and a soft glow surrounded the child. Mira's eyes shone with tears, but her hands moved with perfect precision. She wove the threads of life, guiding them, commanding them, until the miracle was complete.
Lyena stirred, blinking slowly, her breathing steady. Mira gently lifted her, carrying her to her room. She tucked Lyena under the blankets, brushing hair from her face.
Outside, the city continued to bustle, unaware of what had happened. Lyena remained asleep, safe for now.
Mira stood by her desk, trembling slightly, but calm. She picked up her pen, wrote her letter, folded it neatly, and released it with the bird, as always.
End of Chapter 10 – Eyes in the Street