Chapter 66: Lyra POV

Chapter 66: Chapter 66: Lyra POV

"Curiosity is one of the permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous intellect." — Samuel Johnson

Lyra POV

The desert became quiet after sunset.

The wind that had screamed through the sandstone during the day had weakened to a cold whisper, slipping through the cracks of the shallow alcove where we had made camp.

I sat across from Riven, my knees pulled against my chest.

A small smokeless fire burned between us.

Riven sat with his back against the stone, one leg stretched out and the other bent slightly. He held a small tin cup in one hand and ate from a container of dried rations with the other.

He barely looked at me.

That should have made him less interesting.

It did the opposite.

I had spent most of my life surrounded by people who wanted something from me.

Princes wanted alliances.

Diplomats wanted approval.

Knights wanted recognition.

Nobles wanted attention.

Even servants knew exactly how they were supposed to behave around someone from the high courts.

Everyone was predictable.

Riven was not.

He was quiet.

Sharp.

And somehow more intimidating when he was doing nothing at all.

His black cloak rested around his shoulders, and the strange obsidian half mask covered part of his face.

I had not seen him remove it once.

Not when he ate.

Not when he slept.

Not even when we stopped earlier to wash the blood from our clothes.

My eyes drifted toward the small creature curled around his shoulders.

Nyx.

The little shadow beast was almost impossible to see in the darkness. Her scales swallowed what little light reached them, while her violet eyes remained fixed on the surroundings.

She looked nothing like the monsters I had been taught to fear.

She was almost cute.

Especially when she curled herself around Riven’s neck.

Riven reached up and scratched beneath her chin.

Nyx immediately relaxed almost purring.

I smiled before I could stop myself.

So he did have a soft side.

It was simply reserved for one small shadow beast.

I studied him again.

There was something strange about the way he moved.

Earlier, I had watched him kill five armed men without giving them enough time to understand what was happening.

He looked about my age how can he be so strong I’m supposed to be a prodigy.

He had not fought like a knight.

He had not fought like a mercenary.

He had simply appeared where he needed to be.

Then people died.

His movements had been almost impossible to follow.

And yet now he sat beside a tiny fire eating dried rations like an ordinary traveler.

I found myself staring at his mask again.

I had to know.

"You never take that off, do you?"

Riven’s eyes shifted toward me.

"Take what off?"

"The mask."

His gaze remained on me for several seconds.

"The mask stays on."

There was something colder in his voice now.

"Drop it."

I should have.

Most people would have.

Instead, I leaned slightly forward.

There was no fear in his eyes.

Only warning.

That was somehow more interesting.

"Is your face scarred?"

His fingers stopped moving.

"Or are you hiding from the world?"

Riven said nothing.

I did not look away.

I had grown up around people who could hide everything behind a smile.

Riven did not smile.

He simply watched.

I reached beneath my clothes and pulled out the silver medallion hanging around my neck.

The crest of the high elven courts caught the firelight.

Riven’s eyes immediately moved toward it.

"My people value debts."

I held the medallion between my fingers.

"You saved my life."

Riven took another bite of his food.

"I do not care."

I blinked.

"You have not even heard what I am offering."

"I already know."

"No, you do not."

He looked back at me.

"If you escort me to the Land of Elves, I can offer you far more than whatever those syndicates were willing to pay for me."

"I do not care about elven coin."

His answer came immediately.

"I am not going north."

I frowned.

"It is not money."

That finally made him pause.

I studied the mask again.

The shape was strange.

Too close to his skin.

There were no visible straps.

No obvious gaps.

The longer I looked, the more certain I became.

It was not simply a mask.

"It is melded to you."

Riven went completely still.

I continued carefully.

"It is tied to your core."

His fingers tightened around the tin cup.

Nyx lifted her head.

A low hiss escaped her throat.

I watched Riven carefully.

There.

That reaction told me everything.

I had touched something important.

"Something happened to you."

His eyes narrowed.

"Perhaps it is suppressing a curse."

I paused.

"Or perhaps the damage is permanent."

The silence between us deepened.

I had spent years studying magical theory.

I knew enough to recognize something unusual when I saw it.

And that mask was far beyond ordinary craftsmanship.

"I may be wrong," I said.

Riven did not answer.

"But I know someone who might be able to help."

His gaze sharpened.

"The Royal Mage."

That got his attention.

"The Royal Mage of the high courts can remove magical bindings that ordinary healers cannot."

I lowered the medallion.

"If that mask really is connected to your skin and core, then she is one of the few people I know who might be capable of removing it."

Riven stared at me.

I could almost feel the thoughts moving behind those cold eyes.

For the first time since I had met him, he looked uncertain.

Not afraid.

Not weak.

Uncertain.

I realized then that I had finally found something he cared about.

Riven POV

The words echoed inside my head.

Remove it.

My hand tightened around the cup.

Faceless Grasp had been part of me for years.

The tendrils of dark mana had fused with my skin, my bones, and my core.

Garreth had never found a way to remove it.

Neither had the mages I had paid.

Every answer had been the same.

Dangerous.

Possible death.

Permanent damage to the core.

Or simply impossible.

And now this girl was telling me that someone in the Land of Elves might be able to remove it.

I looked at her silver medallion.

She was not lying.

At least, I did not think she was.

Nyx shifted around my shoulders.

I reached up and touched her scales.

She settled again.

My eyes returned to Lyra.

She had stopped smiling.

For once, she looked completely serious.

"How?"

The word came out quieter than I expected.

Lyra straightened slightly.

I kept my eyes on her.

"If this Royal Mage can actually remove it, then explain everything."

Lyra’s expression softened.

A small smile appeared on her face.

"I was hoping you would say that."