3 - Lyra's Melody

The world was different when Orion woke. A veil of frost lay heavy on the ruins of Seraphim Manor, glinting under the pallid winter sun. Alone in this frozen grave of memories, he sat hunched on a cold rock, his dark brown eyes sweeping over the rubble, the home he once knew now a skeleton of charred timbers and blackened stone.

Orion was past the point of tears. He felt as though he had cried out all the water in his body, replaced now by an icy numbness. He was vaguely aware of his clothes, dirty and ragged from the explosion, clinging to his skinny frame. The winter chill seeped through them, but it barely registered. He felt detached, as if he was floating outside his body, watching the world in grayscale.

His gaze drifted to the palm of his right hand. There, etched into his skin was a symbol, the mark of the Phoenix, still red and raw. He clenched and unclenched his fist, wincing at the sting of the branded flesh. He had no clue how it came to be there, or why it burned with a searing pain, contrasting the cold world around him.

The eerie silence of the manor was punctuated only by the distant howling of the winter winds. It was as though time itself had frozen over, encapsulating the catastrophic night that had uprooted his life. The Phoenix Flame System, his family's screams, the intruders' laughter, the explosion... it all played like a haunting melody in the back of his mind.

It was just yesterday he'd woken up in his warm bed, ready for another day of study and play. Now, everything was gone, erased as if they were never there. He was alone, in a winter no warmer than his grief-stricken heart.

As Orion sank deeper into his memories and despair, he couldn't shake off a peculiar feeling. He had expected the biting cold to seep into his bones, maybe even freeze him in place. But he wasn't as cold as he should've been. He felt a warmth, a quiet simmering heat inside him. He figured it was his mind playing tricks on him.

Just then, his thoughts were interrupted by a distant melody wafting through the frigid air. He looked up, startled. It was a tune, a simple lullaby, played on a wind instrument. The sound was imperfect, broken in places, yet there was something hauntingly beautiful about it.

The melody drew his gaze towards its source - a young girl, probably around his age, sitting on a mound of snow, her hands cradling a damaged ocarina. Her fiery red hair was a stark contrast to the frozen landscape around, the vibrant color mirroring the setting sun. The girl, oblivious to his gaze, continued to play her tune, a touch of frustration marring her otherwise innocent features.

She wasn't dressed for the weather, in worn-out clothes that barely offered any protection from the cold. But what caught Orion's attention was the resolve in her bright green eyes, they held a fierce determination that seemed too mature for her age. She had an air of toughness about her, a stark contrast to the delicate tune she was trying to master.

Orion could tell that she had been on her own for a while. Her clothes were travel-stained, her boots muddy, and her cheeks rosy from the cold. Yet there was an unmistakable energy about her, a vitality that seemed to radiate warmth, much like the mysterious heat within him.

Intrigued and momentarily distracted from his grief, Orion found himself staring at the girl. Her spirit, her refusal to give in to the circumstances, ignited a spark of hope within him. Could it be? Could there be a glimmer of life amidst the ashes? He watched her, a hint of curiosity lighting up his eyes. The young girl, Lyra, might have been the change that Orion needed in the bitter cold of the mid-winter.

With the final notes of her broken lullaby hanging in the cold air, Lyra turned her attention towards Orion, her green eyes meeting his. She approached him, her hands clutching the broken ocarina tightly. There was an undeniable curiosity in her gaze, but above all, Orion could see hunger.

"Got any food?" She asked him bluntly, her voice carrying the hard edges of someone who'd spent too much time fending for herself. There was no fear in her, only straightforwardness that was strangely refreshing.

Her question pulled Orion from his thoughts, his own stomach suddenly remembering its hunger. But more than that, it sparked a strange desire in him, a need to protect this girl who stood before him so defiantly, yet so vulnerably.

"Um, I don't, but I could try to find something," he replied, a little taken aback by her candor. "You should stay here, it's warm."

The girl looked at him for a moment before shrugging, sitting down on the rock beside him. "What's making you so warm?" She asked, her eyes narrowing in curiosity as she stretched her hands towards him, as if to feel the warmth herself. "And what's that?" She pointed at the brand on his hand.

"Ah, this..." Orion trailed off, a strange mix of fear and curiosity creeping up his spine. He didn't really understand it himself, how could he explain it to her? But before he could think of a way to evade her question, another question slipped from his lips.

"Where did you get that ocarina?" he asked, his eyes fixating on the broken instrument in her hands.

"Daddy let me keep it," she replied nonchalantly, her fingers tracing the worn edges of the instrument. Her voice was casual, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Orion, sensing the change in her, decided to let it be, for now.

And thus, the stage was set, the bond between them formed through a shared warmth and a broken ocarina. It was a connection they both desperately needed, a tether amidst the ruins of the world they once knew.

For a long moment, the two of them just sat there, the silence of the tundra wrapping around them like a thick blanket. Lyra was the one to break the quiet, her small hand reaching out to trace the Phoenix symbol on Orion's hand.

"Did it hurt?" She asked, her eyes not meeting his but staying fixated on the strange brand.

Orion hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. More than anything," he admitted. Orion remembered not only the searing pain that had etched the symbol into his skin, but the pain of helplessly watching as his family was incinerated by the flame.

Lyra seemed to contemplate his words, her green eyes reflective. She didn't say anything, but after a moment, she moved closer to him, her small body pressing up against his side. It was as if she was drawn to the warmth he was emanating, her cold fingers seeking the strange heat that never seemed to fade.

Orion was surprised by the sudden contact, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he found himself wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer against him. It felt... right, somehow. Like amidst all the chaos and devastation, there was something worth holding onto.

But even as they sat there, the grim reality of their situation was inescapable. The once-grand Seraphim Manor was nothing more than a pile of ruins, and the vast, frozen plains offered little promise of food or shelter. As the light of the day began to fade, a new set of challenges awaited them. But for the moment, they had each other, and that would have to be enough. For now.