He had lied to her. Lyra had no doubts about that. She had heard it in the slight tremble of his voice as he denied knowing Tarek Nocturne, seen it in the way his hands clutched his serving tray a little too tightly against his chest. More than anything, it was the flash of emotion that crossed his face - gone in an instant, but unmistakable. Fear.

  Then there were the freckles.

  They had caught her eye before, glimmering like frozen crystals beneath his dark skin, but now - now they flared, reacting to something beneath the surface. An unconscious response, perhaps. A betrayal of whatever truth he was trying to conceal.

  And if all of that still left any room for doubt, Korie erased it completely with the way he ran.

  The moment he turned, moving with more urgency than a man who supposedly had nothing to hide, Lyra cursed under her breath.

  Damn it.

  She was on her feet in an instant, abandoning her drink as she pushed forward, ignoring the startled shouts of the tavern staff as she shoved past them in pursuit. Korie was fast - faster than she had anticipated. The trouble was, he had a significant advantage.

  He wasn’t wearing armour.

  Lyra’s own was weighty, designed for battle, perfectly balanced for protecting her in a fight. It was something she had trained in, something she had lived in for years, and she knew how to move in it - but that didn’t mean it was without limitations. Korie, on the other hand, was light. She was fast, but he was faster. By the time she burst out into the night, breath steady but frustration mounting, he was already gone. The streets of Brimmond stretched before her, dark and twisting, alleys splitting off into deeper shadows, the ocean breeze carrying the scent of salt and damp stone.

  No sign of him.

  She had lost him.

  Lyra exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders, forcing down the irritation curling hot in her chest.

  He had lied to her. Which meant he knew something. She needed to know what that something was, though Lyra knew it would be fruitless to search for the elf at this time of night. Apart from anything else, he knew these streets. She did not.

  Brimmond was a tangled mess of alleys and uneven roads, stairways that led to dead ends, and pathways that twisted back on themselves like a labyrinth designed to confuse outsiders. Even if she had a lead on where Korie might run, she wouldn’t be able to track him through the dark - not when she had already lost sight of him. Chasing shadows would be a waste of time and energy.

  Lyra let out a slow breath, forcing herself to accept the reality of the situation. Let him run for now.

  Her only option was to return to The Seafarer’s Respite, to rest. Sleep, if she could. Dawn would come soon enough, and with it, another chance. She would return to The Low Lantern first thing in the morning. If Korie wasn’t there, then perhaps she could glean something from the other staff - see what they knew, what they might be willing to tell her.

  If she had learned anything in her time as a fugitive, it was that people always talked.

  It was just a matter of asking the right questions and paying the right price.

  For now, though, she turned on her heel, leaving the empty street behind.

  ??

  Korie's hands shook as he paced. Anxious. Panic inertia had him frozen in place in some hidden corner of the city, his heart about to beat out of his chest from the sprinting.

  He crouched, gripping his knees for balance, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The lights on his arms flickered erratically, pulsing like a signal in the darkness. If that woman passed by, she would see him. He was practically a beacon, light blue and white glows coating his skin. Going home wasn’t an option; she might still be after him. The thought alone sent a fresh jolt of panic through his chest, stealing his breath as he gasped.

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  There was hardly anything he could do. He slid his fingers through his soft curls, shutting his eyes and relaxing his shoulders. He was overheating, and it was only adding to the dizziness that had taken its hold. He leaned back and sat down on the ground, caring not for the filth that may come in contact with his clothing. His button up top stretched across his back as he rolled his head, doing anything in his power to claim back his sensible side. The one that could plan out creative heists and hunts without an issue. That Korie was one he could rely on, but the current one was crumbling and collapsing like a tower of cards.

  He opened his eyes, focused, his head finally clearing. He blinked rapidly, his vision adjusting, his breath slowing. A dull ache throbbed at his temples, but the fog in his mind began to lift. Slowly, his surroundings came into focus; the cold, hard ground beneath him, the scent of the sea salt from the pier lingering in the air. Clarity returned to him, piece by piece.

  Okay. Tarek must've sent out orders for his retrieval, and the first bounty hunter had made their appearance. Obviously he couldn't stay in Brimmond anymore. With his location compromised, he wondered whether it would be for the best to head towards the mainland, the rest of Eclipsia. He'd have to settle his last rent paycheck with the family he'd been living with first, and that meant going back to the Low Lantern for gold.

  The month’s end was still far off, and his wages would not come any sooner. His stash at home was near empty. He could steal the coin. Slip a few from the safebox in the owner's office if he was nowhere in sight. Anything that would save time. The thought hardly sat heavy in his conscience; this was about survival, not petty thievery.

  A plan was beginning to form in his head. He placed his hands on his knees and leaned forward, raising himself on his feet again and dusting off his backside. "Wait for dawn, take the gold, pack up, leave via boat," He whispered to himself, placing a hand on his chin. The leaving by boat part could become an issue; he would probably have to sneak on one, aside from figuring out which one took a short trip to the coast across.

  Now, he only needed to find a place to spend the night, a task that shouldn’t be too difficult. With a few gold crowns in his pocket, he set off, scanning the quiet streets for a nearby bunkhouse, his pace steady and silent in the night.

  ??

  The walk back to The Seafarer’s Respite was quiet. Brimmond had settled into its late-night stillness, the liveliness of the tavern districts fading into the eerie hush of empty streets and distant waves lapping against the docks. A few stragglers still lurked in the alleys, drunk or otherwise occupied, but no one paid her any mind. Good. She didn’t want to be seen right now.

  She moved through the city’s winding roads with the certainty of someone who had spent a lifetime learning how to be alert without appearing tense, how to be ready without making herself a target. By the time she reached the inn, exhaustion was creeping into her limbs - not the physical strain of pursuit, but the slow, dragging weight of frustration.

  Korie had lied to her. She wasn’t sure what irritated her more - the fact that he had lied at all or the fact that she had let him slip away so easily. It shouldn’t have bothered her this much. He was just a lead, nothing more. A lead that had proven more slippery than expected, but a lead nonetheless.

  And yet…

  She exhaled sharply through her nose, pushing the thought aside as she stepped inside the dimly lit inn. The common area was mostly empty, save for the innkeeper behind the counter, barely sparing her a glance as she climbed the stairs to her room. She locked the door behind her out of habit.

  The space was just as she had left it - small, sparse, just enough to be called a room. The cot creaked as she sat down at the edge, reaching up to unbuckle the straps of her armour with slow, practiced movements. The weight of it slid from her shoulders, piece by piece, until she finally felt the full absence of it. The stiffness in her muscles became more noticeable once the armour was gone, the dull ache of a long day setting in and Lyra rubbed at the back of her neck, sighing softly.

  This was getting nowhere. She had come to Brimmond expecting a challenge, but she had underestimated just how tangled the answers would be.

  Nocturne.

  The name burned in her mind.

  Tarek Nocturne.

  Her anger simmered as she thought about him and everything he had taken from her. Everything she had lost because of him.

  She had once had a life. A purpose. A place where she belonged. And now? Now she was here, running through unknown streets, chasing whispers, grasping at whatever scraps of information she could find just to get a step closer to him. The only reason she was in Brimmond was because of him. Every lead she followed, every mile she travelled, every moment spent in the cold and dark, was all dictated by his actions. She felt like a puppet, her movements nothing more than the result of his choices, his crimes, his existence.

  And she hated it.

  Her fingers curled into the thin blanket beneath her, jaw tightening as the frustration coiled sharp and hot in her chest.

  Tomorrow, she would return to The Low Lantern. Tomorrow, she would get what she needed. Tonight, at least, she would rest. But even as exhaustion pulled at her, she knew sleep would not come easily. Because no matter how much she tried to push it aside, she could still feel it - Nocturne’s name, his shadow, woven into every step she took.

  And she was sick of following it.