Lyra Dracorider's Arc

Chapter 1 of 15

Lyra knelt beside the wyvern enclosure and counted the days left on her fingers. Three. Maybe four if she was lucky. The creature inside shifted its weight and hissed, favoring the shattered wing that hung at the wrong angle. She needed it to stop moving. She needed it to trust her. She needed time she didn't have. She dragged the snow-dusted crate outside and set it near the enclosure's edge. The wyvern watched her through the bars, amber eyes tracking every movement. Lyra sat on the ground and began to hum, low and steady, the same melody that had stopped its thrashing two days before. The creature's tail stopped lashing. Its breathing slowed. She hummed for an hour without moving closer, letting the sound fill the space between them. When she finally stood and opened the enclosure, the wyvern didn't bolt. It limped toward the crate instead, sniffed the weathered wood, and settled inside with its good wing tucked close. Lyra exhaled. Sebastian had been the one to capture it in the crystal, but this was her victory. The wyvern had chosen to stay still. But that was yesterday. This morning the wyvern refused to leave the crate at all. It hissed when Lyra approached, flared its good wing, and snapped its jaws. She stopped ten feet away and studied the angle of its damaged wing. The joint had swollen overnight. The fracture was setting, and it was setting wrong. She had two days left, maybe three. She sat down on the polished tree stump Sebastian had dragged out here to keep watch. He'd left the capture crystal sitting on top of it, a small orb that caught the light and scattered rainbows across the snow. Lyra picked it up and turned it over in her hands. Sebastian had trusted her with this. She couldn't fail now. She set the crystal down and started humming again. The wyvern's head turned toward her. Its tail twitched but didn't lash. Lyra stayed on the stump and hummed for another hour, watching the creature's breathing slow, watching its muscles uncoil. When she finally stood and walked toward the crate, the wyvern didn't move. It watched her with one amber eye, but it didn't retreat. Lyra knelt beside it and extended her hand, palm up, fingers still. The wyvern sniffed her hand. Then it lowered its head and rested its jaw against her palm. Something in Lyra's chest loosened. She could work with this.