Lydia the Siren's Arc

Chapter 26 of 37

The warning grew louder. The roots near Lydia's feet moved, sliding over her boots like slow snakes. She tried to pull free and stumbled back. A branch snapped down and raked her arm. She turned to run, but the trees had closed the path behind her. The glowing crystal at the center of the grove flared brighter, and the whole forest seemed to lean toward her at once. She called out. Her voice came thin and small, a human voice with no power in it. Once that sound would have bent a man to her will. Now it only echoed off the shining bark and died. A root caught her ankle and dragged. She fell again, harder this time, and clawed at the dirt to hold her place. Then she heard steel. A blade cut through the roots ahead of her in one clean stroke. Bastion stepped through the gap. He was the young knight who had carried her from the ruins, who had fed her and made her human. He did not stop to speak. He swung again, and the severed roots recoiled. "Up," he said. "Now." Lydia grabbed his hand. He pulled her to her feet and put himself between her and the crystal. The roots surged after them, faster now, ropes of wood snapping at their heels. Bastion cut a path forward and pushed her ahead of him. "Run.” She ran. Branches whipped her shoulders. The ringing rose to a scream behind them. Bastion swung at anything that reached for her, never breaking stride. A root coiled around his leg and he hacked it loose without a word. They broke past the last shimmering trees, and the plain brown woods opened ahead. The roots stopped at the grove's edge, as if held by a line they could not cross. The ringing faded behind them. Bastion did not slow until the cabin came into view through the trees. Only then did he sheath his sword. Lydia bent over her knees, breathing hard. Her arm bled where the branch had torn it. Inside, he sat her by the fire and knelt to look at the wound. He cleaned it with a wet cloth, slow and steady. "You went far," he said. Not angry. Just true. "I couldn't find the way back," Lydia said. "I know." He wrapped a strip of cloth around her arm and tied it. "That grove has a heart in it. It calls things. It doesn't like being answered." He looked at her. Lydia stared at the fire. She had lost the song that once ruled such places. Now those same places could kill her, and she had no defense but a man with a sword. She pressed her bandaged arm to her chest. She was human now, fully, and the world she once ruled had become a thing she must survive.