A Sprinkle of Stardust

Chapter 38 - Regrouping

As sleep loosened its comforting grip on Lyrani, she turned over in bed, tossing the blanket off herself. Wherever she was, she was cocooned in a warmth that lulled her into tranquillity.

Her still-sleepy gaze landed on the rough wooden wall before drifting down to the ground. Where the sunlight fell through the window, it sparkled off the small crystal shards covering the floor, adding colour to the otherwise plain room.

Now fully awake, Lyrani sat up, scanning the oval windows set into the walls. She had never been in a room inside a tree trunk except during her stay in Vlitavia, but this one was nothing like her apartment at the palace.

Vines crept up the walls like green, leafy fingers. Why had nobody cleared them away? This place must've been abandoned for so long that nature had begun to reclaim it.

All Lyrani could see beyond the window was the dark green foliage of the other trees in the forest, dotted with wooden doors and glass windows. Soft rays of morning sunshine beamed between the leaves.

This forest was too bright and quiet to be Vlitavia.

There was a knock on the door.

"Good morning." Morloy stuck his head into the room.

He was dressed in trousers and a tunic and probably had been for hours already. A healer couldn't settle into a steady sleep schedule when he could be called to handle an emergency at ECISI or elsewhere in the realm at any time.

Morloy crossed the room to Lyrani. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a wilting weed." Lyrani flopped back onto her pillow.

It may sound melodramatic, but Lyrani wasn't exaggerating. She didn't think she could stand up. Why should she even try when the last few days had done nothing but beat her down?

She needed at least an hour more in bed before she could face the uncertain day.

Morloy sat beside Lyrani with a gentle smile. "Come now, it could be worse."

"Really? How so?" Lyrani stared up at the ceiling.

A childish hand had painted the night sky in blue, white and yellow. It felt like a mockery of the stars Nash had taken Lyrani to see the day before everything went wrong, although she knew that couldn't be the artist's intention.

Lyrani squeezed her eyes closed against her burning tears.

"Trelle is dead, I've let Irylen and Lord Dundor down, and Nash..."

Lyrani couldn't bear the thought of what had become of him after she left. She hoped that the spirit hadn't punished Nash for letting her escape. It seemed like something Rayn would do.

That was Lyrani's greatest fear—that it might already be too late for Nash, that nothing she did now could change his fate.

She buried her face in the blanket like she had when she was a child, but now there was more to hide from than the morning and the school lessons it brought with it. There was the weight of her guilt and the numbness of her grief.

And the enormity of the task that awaited her.

Lord Dundor had assigned Lyrani to this mission because he trusted her. She had dedicated her life to serving the realm. Now, when it needed her most, she had failed it.

This mission couldn't have gone any more wrong, and this time, there was no one to blame but Lyrani.

She should've been quicker, more sensible, more lethal.

Trelle was gone. Lyrani was on her own, and she had promised to help Nash. The undertaking would be overwhelming if she didn't know where to start.

"I need to talk to Gazana." Lyrani pulled herself upright. The wooden wall was hard against her back.