Chapter 21: The Bond Deepens

Lyria’s POV The word *truths* hangs in the air like smoke. My pulse thrums in my ears sharp, steady, waiting. Mael folds his hands, the gesture slow, deliberate. “When we unsealed your phoenix,” he begins, “we expected power perhaps even volatility. But what emerged was… far older. Far more deliberate.” I don’t move. I don’t breathe. “Your phoenix is not a spirit,” he continues. “It’s not a gift. It’s an inheritance.” My stomach tightens. “From who?” A...