Lira had been back for two days, her return as silent as a shadow's glide.
She slipped into Trail's End on a morning quiet, mud caking her boots, her emerald eyes guarded behind a curtain of silver hair.
She spoke sparingly, deflecting Rin's bathhouse taunts with sharp snark, offering no tales of her journey.
But the tavern saw her—stiff steps, bruises peeking beneath her tunic, a flinch when Mira's candle flared too close.
Kio saw more.
Not just the physical marks, but the tension coiled in her frame, a weight that wasn't born of wounds alone.
She'd brought something back, something that clung to her like damp cloth.
Now, on the morning after Rin's departure, Lira approached the bar, her usual grace dulled by caution.
Her hair hung unbraided, veiling her face, her gloved hand clutching a bundle—tightly wrapped, bound with three layers of leather cord, each knot a testament to her unease.
Kio was already pouring tea, the steam curling upward, its herbal scent mingling with the tavern's woodsmoke and polished oak.
He set the cup before her, his movements steady, his dark eyes meeting hers briefly.
She placed the bundle beside the tea, its weight thudding softly against the bar.
He didn't touch it.
"You knew," she said, her voice low, barely above the hearth's faint crackle.
He nodded once, his silence an answer.
"Found it near the ruins Rin mentioned," she continued, her fingers tightening on the bar's edge.
"I know."
Lira hesitated, then lifted her gaze—just for a moment, her emerald eyes flickering with something raw. "It's… wrong. Doesn't reflect. It pulls. When I touched it, it showed—"
She stopped, her breath catching, her shoulders stiffening.
Kio waited, his presence a quiet anchor.
She exhaled, the sound sharp but steadying. "It's been heating. Wrapped it in salt-soaked leather, triple-sealed. Didn't help."
Kio reached beneath the bar, drawing out a folded cloth—deep violet silk, woven with subtle patterns that caught the light only at certain angles, like veins in stone.
He spread it on the counter, its texture heavy, almost alive.
Lira blinked, her brow furrowing. "What's that?"
"Dampening silk," he said. "Woven to muffle strange energies from relics like yours."
Her eyes narrowed, a spark of her snark returning. "You just had that lying around?"
"I knew you'd bring something you didn't understand."
He unwrapped the bundle with careful hands, peeling back the leather to reveal the shard.
Smooth, mirror-polished, but not glass—its surface drank the light, its edges faintly warm, like coals stirred by a breath.
It shimmered when tilted, not reflecting the tavern but something deeper, a shadow of shapes that didn't belong.
Lira stared at it, her breath shallow. "Every time I'm near it, it hums. Like it's… watching."
Kio nodded, his voice low. "Because it is."
She didn't ask how he knew, her gaze fixed on the shard, her fingers twitching as if resisting its pull.
Kio folded the silk around it, securing it with a leather tie.
The shard's warmth dulled, its hum fading into the tavern's quiet.
Lira exhaled, a weight lifting from her shoulders, her posture softening.
"What did it show you?" Kio asked, his tone soft but piercing.
Lira's gaze dropped, her silver hair veiling her face. "Nothing I'll say."
He leaned closer, his presence filling the space between them, his voice a low murmur. "Then you'll tell me without words."
Lira's head snapped up, her cheeks flushing, her emerald eyes wide with a mix of startle and heat.
Kio's lips curved—a faint, unreadable smile that sent a shiver through her.
"When you're ready," he said, his words heavy with promise, "you'll come."
Lira stood, her movements stiff, and turned toward the stairs. Halfway up, she paused, her voice barely audible. "…Thank you."
Kio didn't reply, his eyes lingering on the silk-wrapped shard, its weight heavier than its size suggested.
Lira's footsteps faded, soundless for the first time since her return, as if the tavern itself held its breath for what came next.