"Eron, you're doing it again."

Lyra's voice broke through the quiet hum of the village. She stood a few feet away, hands on her hips, glaring up at her older brother. Her auburn hair glinted in the sunlight, and the faint scowl on her face didn't quite hide the mischief in her eyes.

Eron blinked and looked away from the patch of forest he'd been staring at. "Doing what?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"You know. The brooding thing," Lyra said, waving her hands dramatically. "Standing there all quiet and mysterious, like you're some tragic hero in a story. It's weird."

"I'm not brooding," Eron said, pulling his hood up.

"You are definitely brooding," she said, grinning now. "You've been doing it all morning."

Eron sighed. "I'm just thinking."

"Well, think later. Come on, the market's busy today, and I need your help carrying stuff."

"I thought you were good at charming people into helping you."

"I am, but not everyone falls for it," she admitted, skipping ahead toward the market square. "Now, hurry up!"

Eron followed, pulling his cloak tighter against the morning chill. The streets of Loryn were alive with activity: merchants haggling over prices, children chasing each other with wooden toys, and farmers unloading crates of fresh produce.

The Village of Loryn

Loryn wasn't much compared to the grand cities built along the Flowlines, but it had its charm. The houses were simple, made of stone and wood, their roofs patched with moss. Flowlines pulsed faintly beneath the village, their energy lighting the lanterns and powering the mills. Most people here didn't think much about the Flowlines. They were just part of life, like the forest or the rain.

But Eron thought about them often. He couldn't help it. The Flowlines had been at the center of everything that happened six years ago—when everything he cared about was taken away.

"Eron, over here!" Lyra's voice snapped him out of his thoughts again.

She was standing by a vegetable stall, chatting animatedly with the vendor. The man handed her a bundle of carrots, laughing at something she said.

"She's always like this," Eron muttered to himself.

"Always like what?"

Eron turned to see Rylan, the shopkeeper, approaching with a crate of tools in his arms.

"Cheerful," Eron said.

Rylan chuckled. "Well, someone has to be, don't they?" He set the crate down and wiped his hands on his apron. "Morning, Eron. You ready for tomorrow?"

Eron shrugged. "I guess."

Rylan studied him for a moment. "You'll do fine. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Eron nodded, but he didn't feel as confident as Rylan sounded.

The Trials Ahead

"Hey, Kaelis!"

Eron stiffened at the sound of his last name. He turned to see a group of boys his age gathered near a fruit stall. Darian, the leader, tossed an apple lazily in one hand, a smirk plastered across his face.

"You nervous about tomorrow?" Darian asked, his voice loud enough for half the market to hear.

Eron didn't answer.

"You should be," Darian continued. "The Initiation Trials aren't for people like you. Not everyone's cut out to be an Ascendant."

The word hung in the air. Ascendant. It was the first rank in the Duskwraiths, the clan that protected the Twilight Bastion. Passing the Initiation Trials was the only way to prove you had what it took to join.

Lyra appeared at Eron's side, glaring at Darian. "Leave him alone," she said.

"Why? Can't your brother handle a little teasing?" Darian asked, tossing the apple into the air and catching it.

Eron grabbed Lyra's arm gently. "It's fine," he said quietly. "Let's go."

"But, Eron—"

"Lyra," he said, his voice firm.

She huffed but followed him as they walked away. Behind them, Darian's laughter echoed through the market.

A World in the Shadows

As they walked toward the edge of the village, the forest loomed in the distance. The Twilight Bastion was dark and quiet, its trees twisted and ancient. Eron could feel the Flowlines beneath his feet, their hum growing louder the closer he got to the woods.

"Are you really going to let them talk to you like that?" Lyra asked, breaking the silence.

Eron shrugged. "It doesn't matter what they think."

"It matters to me," she said stubbornly.

He sighed. "Lyra, I don't care about the Trials. I'm not trying to impress anyone."

"Then why are you doing it?"

He didn't answer right away. The truth was, he wasn't sure. The Trials were a chance to join the clan, to become something more. But they were also dangerous. And if anyone saw what he could really do...

Eron shook the thought away. "Let's just get home."

Lyra didn't say anything else, but Eron could tell she was still upset.

As they reached the edge of the forest, Eron paused, glancing back at the village. The Flowlines pulsed faintly beneath the ground, a reminder of the power he kept hidden.

Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow, everything might change.

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