The Girl Who Found the Brightest Star

The day was already beginning to grow long as the morning sun rose higher into the sky. The late-spring warmth and recent rains had caused plant life to explode in colorful blooms of flowers and budding tree blossoms. Unfortunately, the weather was also perfect for a subsequent explosion of pollen; it masked everything in a yellow-green film: cars, windows, park benches— It reminded Licht of the lime-colored water slides at the water parks he used to love as a child, splashing into the chlorinated pools at their base.

The mass blanketing of pollen gave him a few ideas but, most of all, he really just wanted to draw goofy faces on the car windows. A smiley face here, an aslant frown there… Before he knew it, his fingers were caked in a yellow-green film. If he wasn’t careful, he’d send himself into an uncontrollable sneezing fit, snot running from his nose like water. He wiped his fingers on his shorts, trying to fend off any potential allergy fits.

He had been helping Brendan pack the car for their trip to Seria, but the urge to play in the pollen had been irresistible. This had drawn Brendan’s frustration, having to scold Licht for acting like a child to which he just wagged a still-pollen-caked finger in his face.

“Bruh. If you get that crap in my face, I’m going to hit you.”

“This is the first time in years we’ve seen each other, and you’re already mad at me,” Licht said with a smug look on his face. “Or, can you even see me through those bangs of yours? And why the hoodie today? It’s too warm for those.”

“If you don’t stop talking, I’m going to make you stop talking,” Brendan laughed.

“Sure, sure. Oh, by the way,” Licht said, “were you serious about the aliens thing? And where do you draw the line with this ridiculous stuff? Not to mention a “deez nuts” joke. Like, seriously? You couldn’t think of anything else?”

“Look. It was spur of the moment, ok? But I’m serious,” Brendan said defensively. “You’re certainly one to talk, though.”

“Aw come on. You know you missed my gremlin energy, but what part were you being serious about? The aliens, or crazier things happening?”

“Both!”

Licht sighed as they both erupted into laughter. “So, where should we go first? Once we get into the city. Probably the Mayor’s, right? We’ll want to drop our things off.”

“Mm. Yeah, that’s a good idea. Definitely don’t want to be carrying our bags around in the heat all day.”

Licht checked the time on his phone—afternoon would arrive before long. “Good point. Well then, shall we get going?” He turned his attention to the pile of luggage in the back seat of the car. “We want to get there with some daylight still left, right?”

“Preferably. Who gets to DJ the road trip, though?”

“What if we just take turns? You can have it for the first half of the drive and then we’ll swap drivers and DJ privileges.”

“Honestly, that’s kind of a goated idea—not gonna lie,” Brendan said.

***

Minus an odd increase in traffic, the road trip was hassle-free. While it had managed to delay their arrival until just after six in the evening, it wasn’t all bad; it had given Licht and Brendan a chance to take in the city’s sights from the road, skyscrapers towering into the blue expanse of sky—a mesmerizing sight compared to the usual inner-city view they’d grown used to: the same boring intersections, high-rise apartments that blocked the evening sun, and burnt-out restaurant signs that made one question if it was a place to eat or a place to get mugged.

“This place is so unlike what I’m used to,” Licht said in awe.

Seria was an industrial playground made of more than just steel and concrete: food stalls and streetside boutiques advertised their wares from inside the windows and beneath the awnings, crowded buses filled the streets, and savory aromas drew in unsuspecting, hungry victims who would inevitably succumb to the marvels of expensive food. It was a money-trap: restaurant windows advertised the day’s specials, simultaneously reflecting the irresistible sales and promotions from shops on the other side of the street—buy one get two free, half-off store-wide sales, secret discounts for new customers and loyalty members.

“Hey, do you mind if we check that place out real quick? Something about it seems… different,” Licht said, pointing to a small corner shop. The exterior brick finish had been bleached by years of direct sunlight, and the front door was riddled with scratches carved into the wood. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

“That’s fine! Anything in particular stand out to you, though? The sign is so faded I can barely read what it says,” Brendan said, squinting. “Also, that address should be, like, right here, but I don’t see it.”

“Watch it just so happen to be this place,” Licht laughed. “But you know how, sometimes, there are times in your life where things seem to kind of just… fall into place? I deadass feel like this is one of those times. Besides, my feet hurt from all this walking.”

“What do you mean ‘all this walking’? We just got here thirty minutes ago!”

***

To Licht and Brendan’s surprise, they’d stumbled upon what seemed to be an old antiques shop combined with a miniature bookstore: tattered books lined dusty, wooden shelves, the rush of air lofting the particulates into the sunlight that streamed through the windows as they walked around. Random pieces of old naval equipment were also scattered about the shop: an old compass here, a couple of battered oars there, even discolored glass bottles that, at one point, likely held some kind of alcohol.

After a few minutes of searching, Licht managed to find the shopkeeper, wistfully dusting a glass display of ancient weapons as she hummed away. He turned around, ready to tell Brendan he’d finally found the checkout counter, but he was gone, lost in the endless maze of antiques, books, and other nicknacks.

“I’ll just have to tell him later, then,” he shrugged. “If he’s already this lost, just wandering the shop, maybe I should figure out just what part of the city we’re in…” He walked up to the shopkeeper, still humming as she dutifully continued her dusting. “Excuse me, ma’am. My friend and I, wherever he is,” he said, rolling his eyes, “are a little lost. We’re looking for an address that should be right around here, but we can’t seem to find it.” He pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket, the address written in black sharpie. “Would you happen to know if we’re at least close?”

The shopkeeper paused her dusting for a moment as she stared Licht down. Her grey hair had been pulled back so tight it looked more like a mop than it did actual hair, and it wasn’t helping her already-wrinkled complexion. She narrowed her eyes as if she were judging his inner thoughts which both creeped him out and made him want to look away, but he couldn’t—not now. Something in the back of his mind told him he was right where he needed to be, as if he’d been guided to that very shop, the very shopkeeper herself, for some overly convoluted and mysterious reason.

Time seemed to drag on as his brain worked overtime to come up with a viable answer—something that would explain what he was feeling. Why, despite her wrinkled face and glaring eyes, did he feel like she somehow had the answers to the questions he’d been asking himself for years? Was there some otherworldly force guiding him to the very shop itself, to the furthest room, away from all facets of the outside world and even reality itself? Did this woman know about the death of his parents… and did she know what really happened that day?

“Maybe I’m just crazy, but this woman is giving off some seriously sketch vibes. Though, at the same time, I feel like she might know something about this journal and my parents,” he thought to himself. “I get this feeling like I was supposed to meet her. My heart is eerily calm, and my thoughts feel concise. Not just that… The air has a strange charge to it, too.”

“You said you were lost? Is that right?” the shopkeeper interrogated. “What might have compelled you to visit such a place as this? …In fact, you have piqued my interest, young man. You see this place for what it is, don’t you?”

“I, uhh… What do you mean by ‘for what it is’? I see the books on the shelves and the antiques in the displays, but I—”

“It is no coincidence you walked in here.” The shopkeeper shuffled behind the counter for a moment before revealing a series of multi-colored folders; the corners were torn, and wrinkles had etched themselves into the thick paper-like front—the backs were in no better condition. “Tell me,” she said hurriedly, “what you see on the counter before you.”

Licht gave an aslant frown, unsure of what he’d gotten himself into. “Well, I, uhh… They’re just regular folders, right? Like what you’d use for school or something.”

The shopkeeper shuffled back behind the counter again as she replaced the folders with a large, spiral-bound notebook. Compared to the color folders, the notebook was in pristine condition; the aluminum spiral wove its way through the outer edge, arcing through the cover and subsequent pages inside. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary, store-bought spiral notebook but, upon closer inspection, he realized it was actually a large book.

He blinked several times, figuring he was just tired and road weary, but there was no mistake: the notebook had, in fact, transformed into a large book. The hardcover crackled as the shopkeeper opened the front to smooth the creased pages, dust sliding onto the freshly dusted countertop. Unfortunately, the title had been weathered away, and the only pages he’d been able to glimpse were so yellowed he wondered if the words would fly off the page, pestering him like a hornet. The smell was strangely familiar, though—like the pages had been left to steep in years of moisture and mildew, causing them to grow warped and brittle.

“There’s no way random objects can just… transform like that. I mean, how tired do I have to be to actually think something as crazy as—” He stopped mid-thought. “Ok. Now, I’ve seen crazy, and crazy is inside this journal that fell into my lap, but to watch that book transform from a notebook-paper-lined spiral is some freaky business. Are you, like, a stage-magician or something…? I really don’t understand what’s happening right now.” It was an inadvertent admittance that what he saw was real.

“So, you are a child of Ethera,” the shopkeeper mumbled.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite get that. Could you say that again, please?” He cupped his hand around his ear, hoping she’d oblige and repeat what she said. “Something about a child of Ethan?”

“It’s nothing to worry your head about. Tell me,” she said, “how much do you know about alchemy? Magic, perhaps? I sense that you’ve been through a great ordeal in your life, but I also sense… something else… Come, come.” The shopkeeper pulled him behind the counter and into a back room. “I believe someone is waiting for you.”

Licht frowned, pulled by the back collar of his shirt as the shopkeeper dragged him along. He didn’t love the idea of an elderly woman performing magic tricks while she stared into his eyes, mumbling. Moreover, Brendan was still hopelessly lost somewhere amidst the void of mildew-faded words and ancient history, unaware of the mysterious, and eerily strong, shopkeeper. It seemed asking for directions only caused more stress and confusion—he had mixed feelings: on the one hand, the shopkeeper was eerily keen, but on the other, she was nosey and intrusive. She’d acted like he wasn’t even supposed to find the shop, mumbled something about a child—he still wasn’t sure he heard that one right—played some kind of convoluted guessing game, and now he was being dragged into a tiny, cramped back room because someone was ‘waiting’ for him.

“To be fair, stranger things have happened,” he thought to himself. “But I have to admit—”

“—meeting you here wasn’t on my list of things-to-do today, but here we are. Right, Licht? Or would you prefer I call you Rei, instead?”

“It would seem I was right. This young woman here has been pestering me for the last week, asking when a boy of your description would show up,” the shopkeeper gathered. She finished dragging Licht into what looked like a storeroom of some sort, the soles of his shoes breathing a sigh of relief after squealing their way across the grey, concrete floors. “Don’t mess anything up back here, and lock the door when you two are finished,” she said, already at the door. “Let me know what he does and doesn’t understand afterwards.” A moment later, the shopkeeper was gone, leaving Licht alone with the last person he’d ever expected to see in such a place.

“Ok— You have some explaining to do! How are you here, and how is it you knew I was going to be here before I even had plans to be here? Not only that— You tell your friends at the lunch table to go and befriend me, then you disappear for the rest of the time until graduation two years later!” He crossed his arms, a scowl forming across his face. “Like, I don’t know if I’m more bothered by the fact that an old woman just dragged me into a whole storeroom with boxes stacked to the ceiling, or the fact that you seem to be more than meets the eye.”

For the first time, he locked eyes with the same girl who set the trajectory of his life straight. He didn’t want to say she’d tricked him into befriending Kayden and Rowan, but he wasn’t sure he could say her motives, whatever they were, were genuine, either. After all, she could have gone over and introduced herself to him that morning instead of having Kayden and Rowan round him up. The only name he’d ever heard them call her by was ‘Miss Wonderful’, and he was beginning to see why. She stared back at him with a disdainful frown like she had better places to be and more important things to be doing. Her arms were folded across her chest as she tapped the floor with the heel of her boot.

“Just who exactly is this girl, and why was she just, apparently, waiting for me? How did she finish my thought earlier? What is even going on here?”

“First,” she said, “let me start by saying that morning in the cafeteria was genuine. I did want to get to know you, but… You need to tell me why you’re hiding your true identity. I want to know more about you, but the parts I do know don’t match the current you at all. If I hadn’t kept my distance, I wouldn’t have been able to observe you like I did.”

“Oh, so you’re a stalker. Is that it?” Licht’s tone had grown frustrated. “You even knew my real name… And the way you sit there, so daintily… Why should I tell you anything when I don’t even know who the hell you a—”

“It’s not like that!” she interrupted. “I really, honestly, do want to get to know you better, but you’ve been acting… different lately… Like, you went from loving life to this overly careful stranger. You look over your shoulder every five minutes, you look like you’re always in a hurry, and now you’re being defensive. In fact, you even stopped looking for me a couple months before we graduated. What’s up?”

“Look. I hate to tell you I don’t believe you, because you do sound genuine but, again, what reason do I have to tell you anything? Remember, you’re the one that grew standoffish first. Moreover, while you continue to sit there cross-legged and comfortable, I’m over here trying to figure out what the hell is with this weird place,” he looked over his shoulder as he lowered his voice, “and why you’re so attached to me.”

“See! There you go again! Looking over your shoulder like you’re anticipating something. Why? What are you so afraid of?”

Licht closed his eyes, trying to ease his temper. “I don’t have to tell you anything. How do I know you’re not going to reach out and rip your hand through my chest or something crazy like that? How do I know you’re not really my enemy?”

“Would your enemy lure you into a back room to tell you she’s been keeping you safe for the last couple years? Would your enemy tell you she’s the one that investigated the mysterious deaths of your parents and has an answer for you?”

Licht scoffed. “Alright. I’ll bite. Let’s see if your so-called investigation was able to trudge up what I already know.” He was bluffing, but it was a chance to just what, exactly, she actually knew. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious, but her claims sure are bold,” he thought.

“The illness that took your parents’ lives wasn’t natural.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that much already. Thanks.”

The girl frowned. “It was engineered to target you. Magic-users aren’t born having innate magical talent or knowledge. In fact, these abilities don’t tend to manifest themselves until about the age of twelve or thirteen. You know, everyone’s favorite time of their lives—puberty.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Anyways, your magical abilities manifested early, giving you a natural protection to outside ailments… even ones artificially made.”

Licht’s eyebrows shot up. Not only had she inadvertently admitted she’d been watching him for much longer than originally thought, but she’d also made a bold claim about the suspected-virus that took the lives of his parents. He tilted his head back, staring at the crumbling ceiling tiles and spotty mold stains, likely from an inadequate roofing job that had allowed rain to seep in through the cracks. How she’d managed to obtain such information didn’t matter, nor did its level of truth. The fact remained that he didn’t have all the answers, “Yet this girl walks into my life out of nowhere, plays hard-to-get, then suddenly has some old lady drag me into her storeroom just to meet you again, Miss Wonderful.”

“How do you claim to know so much?” he asked. “Like, where does that treasure trove of knowledge in that little head of yours come from?”

“Lyra,” she replied.

Licht blinked. “Sorry. What?”

“My name. It’s Lyra.”

Licht blinked again and, this time, instead of a blue crop top, white denim shorts and tennis shoes, she looked as if she’d raided the closest fashion boutique: her hair shimmered in golden locks under the storeroom lights, falling over the back of a short, black hoodie complemented by its purple trim as she donned a knee-length skirt of the same-color. Her exposed midriff gave her plenty of room to play with its length, depending on what, or how much, she wanted to show—or how daring she felt. Frilly, black hold-ups secured a pair of thigh-highs to her legs, the black threads transforming them into chocolate-colored delicacies. A pair of black leather ankle boots added an extra couple of inches to her height, string laces tied into neat bows at the front.

As the incandescent ceiling lights cast their glimmer onto her seated position, a nearby box acting as her makeshift seat, he couldn’t help but think she was as beautiful as the star-shaped earrings that dangled from her ears, their distinct cerulean shade twinkling as they twirled about. What was it about her that was both so mysterious and so enchanting?

Her bangs were messy, exposing her forehead in places, but it wasn’t her hair nor the sudden wardrobe change that had captivated him—it was her eyes. Their hue reminded him of the ocean, an endless, watery paradise that swept him away in the undercurrents of nature’s beauty and volatility. The lollipop between her red lips must have been just as sweet as the newly-forlorn look on her face, making him wonder if, in the end, he should have let up on his pursuit of her.

“I’m a certain… important person, kind of,” she began. “With such a title, I grew pretty keen, especially as I got closer to graduation—as I grew and matured…” She stared into his cloud-colored eyes as he straightened his head, her own ocean-blue irises whisking him away to some unknown, tropical paradise. “Maybe saying that I’ve been watching you is a bit of an understatement… I’ve been part of your life since before you forced yourself to bear the burdens of the world all those years ago now. Do you think… your encounter with, and generosity of, the mayor was… by chance?”

Licht opened his mouth, an apprehensive question forming on his lips. “You’re not suggesting that you…” He trailed off, leaving things open-ended on purpose.

“Come on, Rei. I’m tired of the games. I shouldn’t have to try and put words in your mouth when you should know exactly who I am,” Lyra said. Her voice had grown soft and precarious. “That little journal you brought with you,” she said, “didn’t just come from out of nowhere.”

“Ok. That’s twice now you’ve called me ‘Rei’. I don’t know who you think I a—”

A sudden rush of wind blew his hair back, a flurry of mahogany strands catching a ride on the currents, revealing the wrinkles in his forehead that displayed the inner machinations of his mind, working overtime to comprehend what she was trying to tell him—the inner machinations of a mind that had been studying the girl before him in excruciating detail. The transformation of her entire outfit was no simple magic trick—it was pure magic. He noticed how her left eye twitched when she talked about him specifically; the way she rubbed her pointer fingers over her thumbnails told him when she was thinking hard; the lingering, subtle pocket of warmth around her after she’d changed outfits told him when she used magic; the sudden cooling of the same pocket told him when she was preparing to use magic.

She wasn’t just testing him: she was preparing to fight him. “Huh. She thinks she’s subtle, but she knows I can block her attack. She’s really trying to force my hand here. I was an idiot for letting her go. Wow…” He knew she was testing him, to see how far she could push him before he came clean and revealed his full identity. Her coming attack was a test, not just of his abilities, but of his priorities. He locked eyes with her again; as soon as they broke contact, her test would begin. Her glassy eyes, filled with a mixture of impatience and curiosity, reflected his—the vanguard front that mirrored his desire to keep his identity a secret.

She popped another lollipop into her mouth, its round shape resting beneath her tongue as she tossed the paper wrapper over her shoulder where it disappeared. She swung her legs over the front of the box as she placed her elbows on her knees, still locking eyes. Her unamused stare continued to clash with Licht’s, a fierce contest that didn’t dare divulge the winner’s prize or the loser’s penance.

“Don’t use that name, not around other people,” Licht growled. “And, next time, if you’re trying to get my attention, you can simply just ask instead of assuming who or what you think someone is. But you’re fascinating, Lyra. The way you can bend light and sharpen it like a blade… That’s some high-level magic but not exactly what I’d call etiquette, especially not from someone who only seems to be concerned with what flavor her next lollipop will be. You could have tried to attack me with something that was actually effective.”

A small cut bled in the palm of his hand, fresh blood coursing down his wrist. She’d decided to test not only his reflexes but his affinity for magic, though she’d also managed to ignite his temper. He narrowed his eyes, their steely irises colder than the struggling air conditioner outside the shop. He had to admit though, despite the unorthodoxy of her plan, it had been masterfully crafted, but he was just as perceptive, if not more, as she was. He’d waited until the temperature drop, something only she could feel which made it difficult to predict her moves. What she hadn’t accounted for, however, was the natural, biological change in the color of her nails. When the air cooled, they turned a faint shade of purple; when the air warmed, after using magic, they grew a lighter shade of pink than when they were unaffected by her magic—more little quirks he’d picked up on over time.

He scowled at her, but he seemed more disappointed than anything with the aslant frown and slight cock of his head to the side as if to say “is that it?” She wasn’t a fan of the look, but her plan had worked—she’d managed to provoke him just enough that he had inadvertently confessed that the name “Licht” was just a cover… “But why?” she wondered. Either way, she decided to test her luck, pressing him even further.

“I’m the last person you want to pick a fight with, Rei. Drop the antics and use your real name. I don’t know why you refuse to—”

“Choose your next words carefully, Princess,” Rei warned. “You don’t have as many answers as you think you do.”

“Wha— You don’t get to just call me Prin— Wait. What did you say? There’s no way you could have known that,” she said, voice devolving into a soft whisper, picked up by the whoosh of the air conditioning. “I haven’t told anyone.”

“I know a hell of a lot more than you think. I also know why you avoided me after that day in the cafeteria. You just didn’t want me to find out that you were doing the same thing I was, using fake names, but you didn’t account for my own keen eye nor this.” He pulled the journal from the waistband of his shorts. “Do you know who wrote this?”

“The dev—”

“Wrong.” He slowly lowered his gaze, opening the journal to a seemingly random page in the middle. “D. Stemmer made multiple copies of his work, as was customary at the time. This particular copy, while it may seem like the actual binding and ink are from different points in time, they’re actually the consequences, if you will, of a failed alchemic transmutation… A human transmutation. This journal just so happened to be caught in the crosshairs.”

“What are you even talking about? Alchemy was never that powerful. And who would want to try and perform human transmutation anyway? Even if it could do that, do you know what kind of exchange someone would have to make to be able to use such alchemy?” Millee removed the lollipop from her mouth. “Moreover, why are you telling me this? We’re not here to discuss ancient alchemists and what they did or didn’t do. I really don’t care about some dead guy right now.”

“Would you care if I told you I know what your real name is? I know what your title is, who you are, what your, quote unquote, role to play is… I’ve got more news for you, misses ma’am. As you sit there, sucking on that lollipop again, D. Stemmer isn’t dead.”

“Mmhm. Wait— WHAT?” A sudden, violent coughing fit overtook her body. “Don’t say things like that!” she coughed, tossing the now-saliva-laden and half bent lollipop stick onto the floor. “That could have killed me… I can’t believe I almost swallowed that.” She took a breath, trying to calm herself before addressing what Rei had said. “D. Stemmer was a famous alchemist from over 300 years ago, Rei. Yes, rumors floated around for a while that maybe he did perform human transmutation, but there was never any proof he did. Yeah, it’s kinda sketch that his wife died so soon after becoming ill, but that doesn’t mean he used her for alchemic experiments.” She stared at the bent lollipop stick covered in dust on the floor. “Magic is the same way. You can’t just bring things back that are already gone.”

Rei began to read from the journal in response. “I have acquired all the necessary materials to see beyond the gate that governs the laws of alchemy. Elaine’s death is unfortunate, but it was necessary to perform this experiment. When I return, I will detail my experience in subsequent pages of this journal.”

“Rei, what are you rea—”

“Of course, creating a novel transmutation circle was no easy task, not even for one as gifted as I,” he continued reading. “Regardless, it is finished and should accommodate the addition of my myself as the necessary exchange quite nicely. If this experiment is successful, I will have the means to acquire a…” He looked up from the page.

“Tell me right now— Where did you get that thing?”

“It fell into my lap one day. What of it?” Rei snubbed.

“Don’t play games with me. Tell me where you got that journal, Rei. I know for a fact it didn’t just ‘fall’ into your lap!” Lyra’s complexion was ghostly, almost ashen. “If what you’re reading from that journal is for real… Do you know what gate it’s talking about?”

“Hmm. Let me think about it for a minute. I’m sure the answer is somewhere in my big brain that doesn’t require much actual thought.”

She frowned. “Now you’re just being an ass for no—”

“This coming from the girl that decided to run and hide after she was anointed Princess by the Grandeur. Plus, there’s also the fact that you tried to attack me by using light-refracting magic, which is hella cool, not gonna lie, but you didn’t cook hard enough to sneak something like that by me. I knew the exact second the gears in your head began to turn. So, I wouldn’t recommend getting snarky with—”

“Hey!” she shouted, trying to get a word in. “Maybe if you’d quit insulting me for a moment, I could actually answer your damn question…” She puffed out her cheeks, mumbling. “It wasn’t like I had a choice on becoming princess… And after Brendan found me—” She cupped her hands over her mouth. “Crap. I wasn’t supposed to say that!”

“Oh, so you two know each other, too?” he huffed. “Wonder what else I should know…”

Millee jumped up from her position on the box, hands on her hips. “If you don’t stop being so condescending, I—”

Just then, the shopkeeper burst into the room, waving a wooden broom handle. “You two bicker like an old married couple!” she exclaimed, bringing the end down onto Rei and Lyra’s heads. “If you two don’t start playing nice, I’ll hit you with something you’ll like even less! Don’t make me come back here again, you hear me?” she warned. “And you, girl, better keep those pretty little hands of yours off your hips. I don’t like listening to your attitude. Besides, a young woman such as yourself should attempt to show a little modesty.”

“But— Wait. What do you mean by showing modesty? It’s not like—” Her face flushed, realizing her skirt had been caught by a fraying thread on her hoodie. She promptly pulled her skirt down, scolding herself as she tried to hide her shame. “It’s not like I was trying to flash him, ok? My skirt just so happened to get caught on a stupid frayed thread… so it got stuck there.” She hid her face in her hands. “Still,” she said, voice muffled, “it’s not like I started—”

The shopkeeper brought the broom down onto Lyra’s head again. “No excuses! Take responsibility.” She bashed her with the broom again.

“Ok, ok! I get it! Just stop hitting me already!”

“And you, young man,” the shopkeeper said, turning her attention to Rei, “better treat that girl with more respect! I don’t want to hear any more of your sarcasm.” She turned back towards the door. “If I have to come back in here again, you’ll wish I had brought the broom instead.”

Rei watched as she exited the storeroom, slamming the door behind her. The message was clear: get along, or else. Rei and Lyra rubbed their now-sore heads, trying to ease the budding knots that would take at least a week to heal given how hard the shopkeeper had hit them.

“I can’t believe she hit me three times,” Lyra whined, “when I wasn’t even the one who started it…”

“What was that?” the shopkeeper called from the front room.

“…N—nothing, ma’am!”

Rei turned his head toward the door then back at Lyra. “You could have warned me she liked to hit people with brooms, you know?” he said, sour. “I don’t know… It’s whatever, I guess.”

“Will you at least answer my question now? I mean…” she averted her gaze, trying to keep from crying. “Don’t look at me right now! The broom handle hurt, ok…? And I have my pride as a woman on the line after that little showing you received…”

“I was going to tell you until I was beat with a broomstick, of all things.” He sighed, still rubbing his head. “Whatever… Not like we really have a whole lot of time to be arguing, anyways.” He leaned against the side wall, taking the weight off his feet for a moment. “Yes, I know what gate that passage was referring to—the Erill Gate. It’s what connects the interdimensional passageway from Earth and Chiipha, but…” He looked at her, giving her a chance to speak.

“Now that I can finally contribute to the conversation,” she muttered under her breath, “the Erill Gate is also what differentiates the use of magic versus the use of alchemy. If I wanted to transmute one of these empty cardboard boxes into a wooden box, I would have to use alchemy, and that “power”, if you will, is transferred through the gate first.”

“Ok, so we’re on the same page then,” Rei said, raising his eyebrows. “But here’s what I’m not getting. If Stemmer wanted to visit the gate, how would he have known how to do that, and what would he want from it? Moreover, how did he know it even existed? Even the ley lines in the Earth are funneled through it, but that energy is converted into magical energy—not alchemical.” A sudden thought crossed his mind. “He wouldn’t have known unless he—”

“He’d already performed some kind of forbidden, alchemical ritual. Right?” Lyra finished. “So, what did he perform—and when?”

Rei furrowed his brow. “Ehh… I don’t think that’s quite it. I mean… He only mentioned alchemy—not magic. The Erill Gate governs the laws of both. Sure, it’s possible he just wasn’t aware of the actual presence of magic itself, but that seems like a huge oversight. People were already using magic, albeit in limited amounts, during his time, but they were still using it, regardless.”

“Ok,” she offered, “then what if it wasn’t about just about alchemy, after all? What if he was aware of magic and magical energy? He’d find out once he got there, anyways.” She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, wiping away the tears that were still burgeoning from their ducts. “You stopped reading partway through, right before revealing what Stemmer was wanting to create. Why?”

Rei tossed the journal over to Lyra, awkwardly catching it between her fingers. “Oh. So, it’s my turn for story time, huh?” She thumbed through the journal for a moment before an aslant frown crossed her face. “The ink is all smudged and unreadable… I guess that would explain things.” She gave a sigh, settling back onto her box from earlier. “I can tell you what I think he was after but, first, tell me what you’re after. There has to be a reason you changed your name,” she said, making air quotes, “and why you’re suppressing your own magical abilities. I didn’t even have to look at you that morning in the cafeteria to know it was you giving off vibes. You were like a sky full of stars—the brightest one, at that.”

Rei, who had closed his eyes for a moment, turned to look at her again. “Damn, you’re more invasive than I thought.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she smiled. “So, what’s the story?”

“I may or may not have stirred up a little trouble,” he laughed. “As the Princess of Chiipha now, I assume you’re also aware of the shared history between Earth and Chiipha? And knowing who was chosen, I know her name wasn’t Lyra. So, instead of asking who you are, I’m going to ask what you’re doing. You go, then I go.”

“Fine.” She closed her eyes as she took a sharp breath in. “First of all, I sincerely hope you’re not talking about Rezertias and, as Chiipha’s princess, it’s not like I willingly volunteered myself or something. I just got unlucky having been part of a magically-gifted family.” She gritted her teeth. “But… If you pissed the devils off, I’m going to strangle you. Even so, I suppose I’ll let you in on what I’m doing.”

“Go for it. I’m anxious to see just how much history we might actually share.”

“Well, once I was chosen as Princess, I received a boost to my magic reserves, allowing me to use more magic for longer. So, long story short, I like to swap between two, quote, versions of myself. One of them I use only for public appearances like school. The other is the one you see before you now.” She grinned. “I prefer to keep this particular version, form, whatever you want to call it, out of sight because I haven’t quite mastered its magical aura, as you seem to already be aware. I don’t want to attract unwanted… things.”

“I see. So, when you’re in this form, you prefer to go by Millee, but the other you prefer as Lyra?” Rei was impressed, but something still nagged at the back of his mind. “What about using the other form makes it easier for you to mask the aura you mentioned?”

“This thing,” she said, rubbing the makeup away from a spot under her right eye. “It’s a mark given only to those who are deemed a “child of Ethera”. It appeared there after I was chosen as Princess a couple years ago. For some reason, it only seems to have an effect when I’m in my other ‘form’, but it shows up regardless of who I am.”

Rei nodded. “Now it’s starting to make sense. Thanks for the explanation,” he said as an awkward smile forced its way onto his face. “I guess it’s my turn to explain myself. Let me start off by asking you this— Would you believe me if I told you I just went for a friendly visit to a not-so-nice place…? Also, do you prefer ‘Millee’, or do you vibe with the name ‘Lya’ more?”

“I would prefer you use my birthname, Millee.” She white-knuckled the box she was sitting on, fingers forming dents in the cardboard. “But don’t think your sudden politeness will save you,” she warned. “Your next words will determine whether or not I send you to the emergency room or through the wall.” Her lips arced into a threatening smile. “Choose carefully, dear.”