Ordinary Days

Morning arrived quietly in the village of Larkspur.

Sunlight spilled over the eastern hills, painting the wheat fields gold and warming the wooden rooftops one by one. Thin trails of smoke rose from chimneys. Merchants pushed open their shutters. Somewhere near the village square, a blacksmith had already begun hammering away.

CLANG.

CLANG.

CLANG.

For most of Larkspur, the day had already begun.

For Kael—

“Kael!”

—the day was apparently trying very hard to begin without him.

Kael opened one eye.

Sunlight poured through the small window beside his bed.

He stared at it.

Then slowly pulled the blanket over his head.

“Kael!”

He groaned.

Maybe if he ignored the voice, it would disappear.

A pebble struck the window.

Tap.

Kael remained still.

Another pebble struck it.

Tap.

Then a third.

CRACK.

Kael shot upright.

“Hey!”

He scrambled out of bed and rushed toward the window.

He threw it open.

“Are you trying to break it?!”

A girl stood on the dirt road below.

Long dark-red hair fell over her shoulders, tied loosely behind her head with a black ribbon. She wore a dark burgundy tunic beneath a short brown traveling jacket, fitted black trousers, and leather boots that reached just below her knees.

A small bow rested across her back.

A quiver hung beside it.

At her left hip was a short sword.

She crossed her arms.

“You're late.”

Kael rubbed his eyes.

“For what?”

Lyra stared at him.

“For what?”

She pointed dramatically toward the sun.

“You said you would meet me at sunrise.”

Kael looked toward the horizon.

The sun was already well above it.

He looked back down.

“Technically, the sun is still rising.”

Lyra's eyes narrowed.

“Kael.”

“I'm getting dressed.”

“You said that yesterday.”

“I got dressed yesterday.”

“That isn't what I meant!”

Kael closed the window.

Another pebble immediately struck the glass.

“Stop throwing rocks!”

“Then hurry!”

Kael sighed.

There was no defeating her.

There never had been.

A few minutes later, Kael stepped outside.

His dark-brown hair was still slightly messy, despite his attempt to flatten it with water.

He wore a charcoal-gray shirt beneath a worn dark-red tunic. A brown leather belt crossed his waist, and sturdy black boots covered his feet.

Over everything, he had thrown on a hooded dark-brown cloak.

A longsword rested at his left hip.

It wasn't particularly impressive.

The leather grip had been replaced twice, the guard was scratched, and the scabbard had a long mark running down one side from when Kael had fallen into a ravine during training.

Lyra looked him up and down.

“You forgot something.”

Kael checked himself.

“Sword.”

“Yes.”

“Boots.”

“Yes.”

“Cloak.”

“Yes.”

He frowned.

“What did I forget?”

Lyra pointed toward his waist.

Kael looked down.

His belt pouch was missing.

He closed his eyes.

“Right.”

“You'd survive approximately half a day outside the village.”

“That's generous.”

“Three hours.”

“That sounds less generous.”

“You'd probably eat something poisonous.”

“I know which berries are poisonous.”

“You ate purple moonberries when we were nine.”

“I was nine.”

“You ate six.”

“They looked good.”

“You couldn't feel your tongue until dinner.”

Kael stared at her.

“You remember entirely too much.”

Lyra smiled.

“Someone has to.”

Kael went back inside.

A moment later, he returned with a small leather pouch tied to his belt.

Lyra nodded approvingly.

“Better.”

“So where are we going?”

She stared at him again.

“You really forgot?”

Kael considered this.

“I remember agreeing to something.”

“The mill.”

“Oh.”

“We're delivering grain sacks to Master Rowan.”

“Right.”

“And afterward?”

Kael smiled.

“Training.”

“See? You aren't completely hopeless.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn't a compliment.”

“I'll take what I can get.”

They began walking toward the center of the village.

Neither noticed the old woman sitting outside the house across the road.

She watched them go.

For just a moment, her eyes lingered on Kael's dark-red tunic.

Then on Lyra's crimson hair.

Her expression became strangely distant.

But when Kael glanced back—

she was already looking away.

Larkspur wasn't a large village.

Perhaps three hundred people lived within its wooden walls, surrounded by farms, forests, and rolling hills.

The nearest major city was several days away by horse.

Most travelers only stopped in Larkspur long enough to purchase food, repair wagon wheels, or spend a night at the local inn before continuing toward the northern road.

Kael liked it that way.

Nothing particularly exciting happened in Larkspur.

The baker complained about flour prices.

Farmers complained about rain.

Merchants complained about taxes.

And everyone complained about Old Tomas's chickens wandering into places they shouldn't.

One of those chickens ran across the road in front of Kael.

He stopped.

The chicken stopped.

They stared at each other.

Lyra walked past them.

“Don't.”

Kael looked at her.

“I didn't say anything.”

“You were thinking about chasing it.”

“I wasn't.”

“You were.”

The chicken made a threatening sound.

Kael frowned.

“It started this.”

“Kael.”

He continued walking.

The chicken survived another day.

The village square was already crowded.

Stalls covered the stone plaza.

Farmers sold vegetables and fruit beneath colorful awnings. A merchant from the south displayed small bottles of perfume beside silver jewelry. Children chased one another around a fountain while their parents shouted at them to slow down.

At the far end of the square stood Larkspur's blacksmith.

Kael slowed.

The blacksmith lifted a glowing piece of metal from the forge.

CLANG!

Sparks scattered.

Kael watched them.

Something about fire had always fascinated him.

He couldn't explain it.

He liked campfires.

Forges.

Lantern flames.

Even during winter, he found himself sitting closer to fireplaces than anyone else.

Lyra stepped in front of him.

“Kael?”

He blinked.

“What?”

“You stopped walking.”

“Oh.”

She glanced toward the forge.

“You're doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Staring at fire.”

“I wasn't staring.”

“You were definitely staring.”

Kael shrugged.

“It's interesting.”

“It's fire.”

“Yes.”

“It burns things.”

“That's usually what fire does.”

Lyra shook her head.

“One day, you're going to lose an eyebrow.”

Kael followed her toward the mill.

“Only one?”

“Both, probably.”

The mill stood beside the river at the northern edge of the village.

Master Rowan was waiting outside.

He was a large man with a thick gray beard and shoulders that looked wider than the doorway behind him.

When he saw Kael and Lyra approaching, he folded his arms.

“You're late.”

Lyra immediately pointed at Kael.

“His fault.”

Kael looked betrayed.

“You didn't even hesitate.”

“No reason to.”

Master Rowan laughed.

“I guessed as much.”

Several heavy grain sacks rested beside a wagon.

He pointed toward them.

“Storage room.”

Kael looked at the pile.

“How many?”

“Twelve.”

“Twelve?”

“Problem?”

Kael straightened.

“No.”

Lyra whispered—

“You're about to regret that.”

“I'll be fine.”

He grabbed the first sack.

And nearly threw it over his shoulder.

Kael froze.

That was strange.

The sack should have been heavy.

Very heavy.

Instead—

it felt surprisingly manageable.

Master Rowan raised an eyebrow.

“Well.”

Kael adjusted the sack awkwardly.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

The miller looked him over.

“You've gotten stronger.”

Kael laughed.

“I've been training.”

“With what? An ox?”

Lyra frowned slightly.

She walked over to another sack and tried lifting it.

Her expression immediately changed.

“Oh.”

Kael put his sack down.

“What?”

Lyra pulled harder.

The sack barely moved.

She stared at Kael.

“You carried that like it was nothing.”

“It isn't that heavy.”

Lyra stepped aside.

“Try this one.”

Kael grabbed it.

He lifted it.

Again—

easier than expected.

He looked at his hands.

“That is strange.”

Master Rowan laughed loudly.

“You two can investigate the mystery after the work is done.”

Kael shrugged.

“Maybe I've finally surpassed you.”

Lyra punched his arm.

“Ow.”

“That hurt?”

“A little.”

She looked satisfied.

“Good.”

They continued working.

Kael carried most of the sacks.

He didn't think much about it afterward.

Neither did Lyra.

Teenagers got stronger.

That was normal.

At least—

that was what they told themselves.

After finishing their work, Master Rowan tossed Kael a small pouch of copper coins.

Kael caught it.

“Payment.”

Lyra looked offended.

“What about me?”

Master Rowan tossed her another.

She caught it easily.

“Didn't forget you.”

Lyra smiled.

“I always liked you better than him.”

Kael stared.

“I carried ten sacks.”

“And I provided moral support.”

“You carried two.”

“Exactly.”

Master Rowan chuckled.

“Go enjoy yourselves before someone finds more work for you.”

Kael and Lyra didn't need to be told twice.

Their training ground was hidden beyond the western fields.

Years ago, someone had built a small watchtower near the forest.

Only its stone foundation remained.

Kael and Lyra had discovered the place as children and eventually claimed it as their own.

They had spent countless afternoons there.

Training.

Arguing.

Eating stolen pastries.

Talking about where they would go someday.

Lyra removed her jacket and hung it across a broken stone wall.

She drew her short sword.

Kael unsheathed his longsword.

The blades weren't sharpened enough for serious combat training, but they could still hurt.

Lyra pointed her sword toward him.

“No complaining when you lose.”

Kael raised his own.

“You say that every time.”

“And you still complain.”

“Because you cheat.”

Lyra gasped.

“I have never cheated.”

“You threw dirt in my eyes.”

“You weren't paying attention.”

“You kicked me.”

“Combat.”

“You bit me once.”

“We were eight!”

“That doesn't make it better!”

Lyra rushed him.

Kael barely raised his sword in time.

CLANG!

Metal struck metal.

Kael stepped backward.

Lyra attacked again.

Fast.

She had always been fast.

Faster than most people their age.

Her short blade moved toward his shoulder.

Kael blocked.

She changed direction immediately.

He blocked again.

Lyra frowned.

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Blocking.”

“You want me to let you hit me?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

She attacked again.

Kael stepped sideways.

His sword met hers.

CLANG!

Lyra spun beneath his arm.

Kael turned—

Her blade stopped inches from his throat.

She smiled.

“Dead.”

Kael stared at the sword.

“You're enjoying this.”

“Very much.”

He lowered his weapon.

“Again.”

Lyra stepped back.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

This time Kael attacked first.

His sword came down.

Lyra blocked.

Her eyes widened.

The force pushed her backward.

Kael stopped immediately.

“Sorry.”

Lyra stared at him.

“You weren't swinging that hard.”

“I thought I was.”

She looked at the mark his blade had left against hers.

Then back at him.

“You really have gotten stronger.”

Kael flexed one hand.

“Apparently.”

“Don't get arrogant.”

“I wasn't.”

“You were about to.”

“How do you know what I'm about to do?”

“I've known you since we were five.”

“That doesn't mean you can read my mind.”

“You're thinking about lunch.”

Kael paused.

Lyra smirked.

“I hate when you do that.”

They trained for nearly an hour.

Afterward, Lyra switched to her bow.

Three wooden targets stood near the tree line.

She drew an arrow.

Pulled the string back.

Released.

THUNK.

The arrow struck near the center.

Kael whistled.

“Lucky.”

Lyra drew another.

THUNK.

Even closer.

Kael folded his arms.

“Still lucky.”

Third arrow.

THUNK.

Dead center.

Lyra turned toward him.

“You were saying?”

Kael looked away.

“Wind assisted.”

“There isn't any wind.”

“Exactly.”

“That doesn't make sense.”

“It sounded better in my head.”

Lyra laughed.

She lowered the bow.

Then suddenly stopped.

Her smile disappeared.

Kael noticed.

“What?”

Lyra looked toward the forest.

For several seconds, she remained completely still.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

She raised a hand.

“Quiet.”

Kael listened.

Leaves rustled.

Birds called.

Far away, water moved through the river.

Nothing unusual.

“I don't hear anything.”

Lyra slowly walked toward the trees.

“Someone's out there.”

Kael followed.

“How do you know?”

“I heard them.”

“Heard what?”

“Branches breaking.”

Kael looked into the forest.

“I didn't hear anything.”

Lyra frowned.

She couldn't see anyone.

“Probably a deer.”

“Maybe.”

Then Kael noticed movement.

Far between the trees.

A shadow.

Large.

It disappeared almost immediately.

His hand moved instinctively toward his sword.

“Lyra.”

“I saw it.”

They remained still.

Seconds passed.

Then—

a wolf emerged from between the trees.

Kael relaxed slightly.

Lyra didn't.

The wolf stared at them.

Its fur was gray.

Its body was lean.

Strangely lean.

It should have avoided people.

Instead, it stepped closer.

Kael slowly drew his sword.

“Don't run.”

“I know.”

The wolf growled.

Another appeared behind it.

Then a third.

Lyra reached for an arrow.

“This isn't normal.”

Kael agreed.

Wolves rarely approached the village.

Especially during daylight.

The first wolf stepped forward.

Kael tightened his grip.

Its eyes met his.

Something changed.

The animal froze.

The growl stopped.

Its ears lowered.

Kael frowned.

The wolf backed away.

Then another did the same.

Within seconds—

all three turned and disappeared into the forest.

Lyra stared after them.

“What just happened?”

Kael lowered his sword.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

“They were going to attack.”

“I know.”

“And then they saw you.”

Kael looked at her.

“What are you suggesting?”

Lyra crossed her arms.

“You frightened them.”

“I wasn't doing anything.”

“You have a naturally unpleasant face.”

Kael stared.

“There it is.”

“What?”

“I was wondering how long you could stay serious.”

She smiled.

“Not long.”

But when Kael looked toward the forest again—

his smile faded.

For some reason he couldn't explain, he had felt something when the wolf looked into his eyes.

Not fear.

Not danger.

Something almost familiar.

He shook the feeling away.

Ridiculous.

It was just a wolf.

By afternoon, they returned to the village.

The square had become even busier.

A caravan had arrived from the capital.

Brightly painted wagons lined the road.

Children gathered around merchants selling unfamiliar sweets and toys.

Kael and Lyra walked past them.

Then Lyra suddenly stopped.

A crowd had formed near the fountain.

At its center stood an old traveling storyteller.

Pictures had been painted across a large wooden board behind him.

Dragons.

Heroes.

Fire.

Kael recognized the story immediately.

Everyone did.

The storyteller raised his arms.

“And so, one thousand years ago, the terrible Crimson Dragon descended upon Eldoria!”

Children listened wide-eyed.

Kael and Lyra remained at the back.

The storyteller pointed to an image of a giant red dragon surrounded by flames.

“Vharagor!”

Several younger children gasped.

“He burned cities!”

“He destroyed armies!”

“He sought to reduce all Aetheria to ash!”

Lyra leaned toward Kael.

“He's dramatic.”

“That's why people pay him.”

“Have you heard this version before?”

“About fifty times.”

The storyteller continued.

“But brave heroes stood against the monster! With enchanted blades and the greatest magic ever created, they struck the beast down!”

The children cheered.

The storyteller lowered his voice.

“But the danger did not end there.”

He pointed toward another picture.

Several red dragons appeared beneath a black sun.

“For the blood of the Crimson Dragon remained.”

Kael frowned.

Lyra did too.

“The kingdoms hunted the remaining red dragons until none remained. And thus the world was saved.”

One child raised his hand.

“Are there still red dragons?”

The storyteller smiled.

“No.”

Another child spoke.

“How do you know?”

“Because if there were—”

The old man leaned forward.

“—the Ashen Order would find them.”

The children murmured.

Kael had heard that name before.

Everyone had.

The Ashen Order.

Dragon hunters.

Though dragons were rare now, the Order remained.

Their fortresses stood throughout the kingdom.

Their soldiers carried weapons said to be capable of piercing dragon scales.

Lyra whispered—

“Do you think red dragons really disappeared?”

Kael shrugged.

“Probably.”

“All of them?”

“That's what they say.”

Lyra looked at the painted dragon.

“Seems strange.”

“What does?”

“If red dragons were really that powerful, how did people find every single one?”

Kael considered it.

“Maybe they didn't.”

Lyra looked at him.

He continued—

“Maybe some just left.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere people couldn't find them.”

Lyra smiled.

“You've been reading adventure stories again.”

“They're better than history books.”

“History books have fewer ridiculous heroes.”

“They also have fewer explosions.”

“That might be why they're called history books.”

The storyteller slammed his staff against the ground.

Kael and Lyra jumped.

“Remember!” the old man shouted. “Crimson scales bring crimson ruin!”

The crowd repeated the phrase.

“Crimson scales bring crimson ruin!”

Kael rolled his eyes.

“Definitely dramatic.”

Lyra started walking away.

Kael followed.

Neither noticed that the old storyteller had stopped speaking.

He was staring directly at them.

More specifically—

at Lyra's hair.

Then Kael.

The old man's expression changed.

Only for an instant.

And then the performance continued.

They purchased bread, cheese, and two apples before climbing the grassy hill overlooking Larkspur.

It was their usual place.

From there, they could see almost everything.

The village.

The fields.

The river.

And far beyond them—

the mountains.

Kael lay back against the grass.

Lyra sat beside him.

For several minutes, neither spoke.

It wasn't uncomfortable.

They had known each other long enough that silence didn't need to be filled.

Eventually Lyra took a bite of her apple.

“Do you ever think about leaving?”

Kael opened one eye.

“Leaving Larkspur?”

“Yes.”

“For where?”

“Anywhere.”

Kael sat up.

Lyra stared toward the mountains.

“I like it here,” she said. “But sometimes it feels like the entire world is happening somewhere else.”

Kael smiled slightly.

“You want adventure?”

“Maybe.”

“You hate sleeping outside.”

“I can learn.”

“You screamed because a beetle crawled into your blanket.”

“That beetle was enormous.”

“It was this big.”

Kael held his fingers barely apart.

Lyra slapped his hand away.

“It had evil intentions.”

“It was a beetle.”

“You didn't see its eyes.”

Kael laughed.

Lyra tried not to.

She failed.

Afterward, she looked toward the horizon again.

“Still.”

Her voice became quieter.

“I want to see what's beyond those mountains.”

Kael followed her gaze.

The peaks seemed endless.

He had wondered the same thing many times.

“What if it's dangerous?”

Lyra glanced at him.

“Then you'll protect me.”

Kael blinked.

She smiled.

“And I'll protect you.”

He looked away.

“Sounds fair.”

“Besides, we're going together.”

“Who said I'm going?”

“I did.”

“You can't decide that.”

“I already have.”

Kael sighed.

“There really is no winning with you.”

“No.”

They watched the sunset.

Eventually, Kael noticed something strange.

A thin trail of red light moved across the distant sky.

He sat forward.

“Lyra.”

She looked.

For a moment, the clouds above the mountains glowed crimson.

Exactly like fire.

Then—

it vanished.

Lyra frowned.

“What was that?”

Kael stared.

“I don't know.”

“Sunlight?”

“Maybe.”

But the sun was behind them.

Neither said anything.

A strange warmth spread through Kael's chest.

At the same moment, Lyra pressed one hand against her heart.

Kael noticed.

“You okay?”

She looked at him.

“Yeah.”

The warmth disappeared.

Lyra lowered her hand.

“Just felt strange for a second.”

Kael nodded slowly.

“Me too.”

They looked toward the mountains again.

Nothing was there.

No red light.

No fire.

Only clouds.

Lyra stood.

“We should go home.”

Kael rose beside her.

“Before it gets dark.”

They began walking down the hill.

Halfway down, Lyra suddenly stopped.

Kael looked back.

“What?”

She was staring toward the distant mountains.

For just a moment—

she thought she had heard something.

A sound carried across an impossible distance.

Low.

Deep.

Ancient.

A roar.

“Lyra?”

She blinked.

The sound was gone.

“Nothing.”

“You sure?”

She smiled.

“Come on. If you're late for dinner again, I'm not saving you.”

“You never save me.”

“I saved you yesterday.”

“You ate half of it.”

“That was the price.”

Kael followed her down the hill.

Their argument continued all the way back to Larkspur.

Behind them, darkness slowly covered the mountains.

Neither looked back.

Neither saw the pair of enormous eyes open briefly within the distant shadows.

And neither Kael nor Lyra could possibly understand why the sound they had heard made their hearts beat faster.

After all—

they were human.

They had always been human.

At least…

that was what they believed.