The Whisper

burning wood and fresh blood clung to the air, a cruel mockery of the sweet summer breezes that once graced Oakhaven. Elara, still trembling, clutched Lyra's

eyes had seen, to pretend this was all a terrible dream from which she would soon awaken. But

... they're gone too." Her words were stark, devoid of the childish wonder that usual

gardens were trampled, the blooming roses crushed under heavy boots. They found them near the manor's entrance, lying amidst the debris. Lord Valerius, his

ody wracked with anguish. Lyra knelt beside her, a hand gently rubbing Elara's back, her own tears flowing silently, mingling w

Her eyes, usually soft, now held a glint of something hard, unyielding. "We c

ed face, clung to Lyra. "Where

ied. Separate? They had never been apart. They were two halves of a whole. "It's safer," Lyra explained, her gaze fixed o

emently. "No! I won't le

r now, we must scatter. Like seeds blown by the wind. And when the time is right, we will find each other again.

from the direction of the main road. The Blackcloaks. T

e estate. "To the old hunting lodge. Remember the secret passage ben

her heart tearing

smile. "I have my own path. I'll mak

plunged into the dense woods. Her lungs burned, her legs ached, but she ran, fueled by Lyra's command and the terrifying memory of her parents' fall. Every rustle of leaves, every s

ret passage beneath the hearth, a small, cramped space that smelled of damp earth and forgotten things. Crawling inside, she pulled the hidden latch shut, plunging herself into darkness. The last day of summer was over, and