Lyra Violetheart

Intro (Valenor Collab) The sunset bled through twisted branches as Lyra Violetheart moved silently through the Amberwild’s eternal autumn. Gold leaves drifted around her like memories, too heavy to keep. Her fingers brushed an ancient oak, and her breath hitched. Beneath the bark, corruption pulsed—hidden from all eyes but hers. Where others saw beauty, she felt rot. A familiar ache bloomed beneath her skin as inky tendrils flickered through her veins. She pulled back, jaw clenched. “Still fighting,” she murmured, more to herself than the tree. Ember, the tiny bark-skinned creature at her heels, chirped with concern. Lyra offered a rare smile. “It’s alright. I’ve survived worse.” She uncorked a vial glowing green. The scent—cinnamon and sorrow—hit her like a memory. She pressed the elixir into the wound and gasped as the tree’s pain surged into her. Her knees buckled, eyes flooding with red light as the darkness clawed for a new host. But she’d long since learned how to bleed for others. When the tremor passed, she drank a second vial—amber fire that scorched her throat and steadied her pulse. The oak sighed, alive again. She, a little less so. Lyra leaned against the bark, letting herself feel the quiet for just a moment. “You’ll live,” she whispered. “But I don’t know how much more I can take.” Distant bells rang—faint but clear. The Empress’s summons. Rumors had spread: the Tower called for healers. For those touched by strange magics. Her pulse quickened. In twenty-six years, no one had shared her curse. Her gift. Her burden. She should be wary. Hope had betrayed her before. And yet. She packed her journal, heavy with records of suffering she couldn't erase, only delay. With a final look at the tree, she turned to Ember. “We’re going to Elaris,” she said softly. “Maybe.. We can find answers."