Kaelen blinked, his grip on his sword tightening. The letters hung there, defying all reason and gravity, like an especially condescending celestial memo. He waved a hand through it, half-expecting it to dissolve like mist. It didn’t move. Instead, it shimmered faintly, as though mocking his disbelief.
“This,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief, “is officially ridiculous.”
“What’s ridiculous?”
The voice, soft and musical, startled him so badly he nearly dropped his sword. Spinning around, he found himself face-to-face with the nymphryn. It padded toward him, it’s movement so fluid it seemed like it was gliding rather than walking. Her feathers caught the dim light of his star-bright aura, scattering it like fragments of a broken prism.
“You,” Kaelen said, pointing at the nymphryn, “just talked.”
The nymphryn blinked slowly, its luminous eyes radiating calm. “Of course I talked.”
Kaelen turned to the nymphryn, his expression equal parts confusion and irritation.. “You can talk! Since when?”
It sat down, curling its feathery tail neatly around its paws. “Since always.”
Kaelen turned to the nymphryn, his expression equal parts confusion and irritation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The nymphryn blinked, unimpressed. “You never asked.”
His jaw worked uselessly for a moment before he threw up his hands. “Never asked? You’re a cosmic cat with wings! Why in the name of the Stars would I ask if you could talk?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” It asked, tilting her head in a way that managed to be both inquisitive and smug.
Kaelen spluttered. “Because you’re—you’re…” He gestured at it as though that explained anything.
“Magnificent?” it offered. “Mysterious? Ethereal?”
“Sure, let’s go with that,” Kaelen muttered, running a hand through his hair. “If you could talk all this time, why have you been silent?”
“I didn’t have anything to say.” It flicked it’s tail, it’s feathers shimmering faintly. “Well, now you know. Does it bother you?”
“Bother me?” Kaelen let out a laugh that sounded suspiciously unhinged. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I’m only being followed by a sentient, winged cosmic feline who casually decided to reveal it can talk while we’re stuck in an ancient death-maze. Why would that bother me?”
The nymphryn regarded him with a faintly amused expression. “You’re handling it remarkably well, all things considered.”
Kaelen sighed, rubbing his temples. “Do you at least have a name? Or are you just planning to be ‘mysterious cosmic cat’ forever?”
“I don’t have a name,” it said, voice calm. “Not one I remember, anyway.”
Kaelen frowned. “You don’t remember? How do you not remember your own name?”
It shrugged—an elegant, feline sort of motion. “Names are tricky things. They slip away when you don’t use them. Like socks.”
Kaelen stared at it. “That is not how socks work.”
“It is if you’re me,” it said with a flick of its tail.
He took a deep breath, as if preparing to reason with a particularly stubborn faeling. “Okay. Fine. What should I call you, then? You must have some preference.”
It tilted its head, considering. “I’ve been called many things by many people. Some call me a messenger. Others call me a guardian. One rather imaginative fellow called me ‘Fluffy Stardust.’”
Kaelen snorted despite himself. “Fluffy Stardust?”
“He had a way with words,” it said, her tone utterly deadpan.
“Well, I’m not calling you that,” Kaelen muttered. “What about Taraj? Or Astral? Or Lyra?”
The nymphryn’s ears twitched. “Any of those are fine. They’re all suitably cosmic.”
“Glad you approve,” Kaelen said dryly. “And… uh… what about…” He gestured vaguely, his cheeks coloring slightly. “You know. Gender?”
It blinked at him. “Gender?”
“Yes!” Kaelen said, sounding slightly defensive. “It’s weird calling you ‘it.’ Are you… you know… male? Female? Something else?”
She studied him for a long moment, her luminous eyes gleaming with what he could only describe as feline mischief. “If it helps, you may think of me as female. Many have before you.”
“‘Many,’ huh?” Kaelen raised an eyebrow. “Let’s go with Lyra then. Just how long have you been around?”
The nymphryn—or rather, Lyra—gave a soft purring laugh. “Long enough to know better than to answer that question.”
Kaelen opened his mouth to respond but stopped, his gaze snapping back to the floating text. “No. I got distractied. This is more important. Do you see this?”Stolen novel; please report.
The nymphryn tilted her head, her luminous eyes narrowing. “See what?”
“These words!” Kaelen gestured wildly to the text. “Right here! Floating! Shimmering! Mocking me!”
The nymphryn froze. Her tufted ears twitched sharply, and she rose to her feet, her feathers ruffling. “You can see the system notifications?” she asked, her voice low and filled with something that sounded uncomfortably like disbelief.
Kaelen frowned. “System notifications? Is that what this is?”
The nymphryn began pacing in a tight circle, her movements quick and agitated. “You’re not supposed to be able to see those.”
“Well, clearly I can!” Kaelen snapped. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“No one else ever has,” she muttered, her tone more to herself than to him. “I thought… I thought it was just me.”
Kaelen stared at her. “You’ve been seeing this sort of thing all along? And you didn’t think to mention it?”
The nymphryn stopped pacing, her luminous eyes locking onto his. “It’s not exactly the sort of thing you bring up in conversation. ‘Oh, by the way, I see magical quests floating in the air. How’s your day?’ Most people would think I was mad.”
“Well, congratulations,” Kaelen said dryly. “Now we’re both mad.”
She began pacing in a tight circle, her movements tense. “No one else has ever been able to see this as far as I can tell,” she muttered. “This is… unexpected.”
“Unexpected?” Kaelen repeated, his irritation mounting. “That’s all you’ve got? Unexpected?”
She stopped pacing and fixed him with an unreadable expression. “What else am I supposed to say? Congratulations, you’re special?”
Kaelen groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Fantastic. First, I nearly got eaten by a Shadowstalker sent by my dearest father. Then I fall down a hole with a magical cat, the magical cat starts talking, and now I’m seeing magical… instructions. What’s next? A dragon offering tea and biscuits?”
The nymphryn smirked. “Dragons prefer coffee.”
Kaelen shot her a withering look. “Not helping. I’m beginning to think I should have just let myself be eaten.”
The nymphryn’s humor faded as her gaze returned to the floating text. “This changes things,” she said softly, almost to herself.
“Changes what, exactly? What even is this?” Kaelen asked, hands pointing to the glowing box. “What is this system? Why is it giving us quests? And why is it telling me to avoid some terrifying-sounding Guardian?”
The nymphryn hesitated, her feathers fluffing slightly. “I don’t know,” she admitted finally.
Kaelen stared at her. “You’ve been following these… quests without knowing where they come from?”
The nymphryn sighed. “The system has always been… there. Ever since I woke up in the star field it’s been there. Giving me tasks. Offering rewards. I assumed it was some sort of divine intervention.”
Kaelen crossed his arms. “Divine intervention? That’s your theory?”
The nymphryn huffed. “It’s as good as any. And it’s not like I’ve had much choice. The system doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“Fantastic,” Kaelen muttered. “I’ve been dragged into a magical to-do list by some possibly omniscient taskmaster with no explanation.”
The nymphryn tilted her head, studying him with a curious intensity. “It is strange, though. Why can you see it now? The system’s never responded to anyone else before.”
Kaelen gestured vaguely to the air around him. “Maybe it’s the labyrinth. Or maybe the universe just enjoys messing with me.”
“Or maybe,” the nymphryn said, her lips curling into a sly grin, “you’re important.”
Kaelen groaned. “Don’t start.”
The nymphryn chuckled softly, though her amusement didn’t entirely mask the unease in her gaze. She padded forward, glancing at the text again before speaking. “Something about this labyrinth feels… significant,” she said quietly. “As if it’s tied to something larger. And if the system is responding to you, then maybe you’re tied to it, too.”
Kaelen frowned, his gaze returning to the floating text. “Significant how? And what’s this about avoiding the Guardian? That doesn’t exactly sound comforting.”
The nymphryn’s feathers fluffed slightly. “Guardians are… problematic,” she said carefully. “If the system is warning us, it’s because the consequences of waking it would be… unpleasant.”
“Unpleasant how?” Kaelen asked.
“Do you really want to find out?” she countered, her tone dry.
Kaelen sighed, his star-light dimming slightly. “I suppose not.” He frowned. “What do you know about this place?”
The nymphryn glanced at the walls, her luminous eyes tracing the ancient carvings. “Not much. But look at the patterns. The stars, the cycles of suns and moons… this labyrinth feels like a representation of something far greater.”
Kaelen followed her gaze, his irritation giving way to curiosity. He stepped closer to the wall, his star-light illuminating a massive carving of a celestial figure. The figure was surrounded by constellations, their limbs intertwined with flowing arcs of light. Beneath the figure was a depiction of what looked like a shard—its jagged edges glowing faintly, even in the stone.
His stomach tightened. “The Shard of Eterna.”
The nymphryn nodded. “And the Guardian,” she said, gesturing to a second figure carved beside the first. This one was massive and hulking, its body encased in jagged armor that radiated menace. Its eyes glowed with an eerie intensity, and its outstretched hand seemed to reach for the shard.
Kaelen exhaled sharply. “That’s… not reassuring.”
“No,” Lyra agreed. “It isn’t.”
Kaelen sighed. “I’ve heard of the Shard of Eterna” he said, his voice lowering as though speaking its name too loudly might awaken something, “I studied the history of these lands as a child – including some ancient texts everyone else thought were lost. My old tutor had collected them.” And here Kaelen winced, slightly. “According to those texts, the Shard of Eterna is a fragment of Eterna’s Crown—one of the relics forged during the First Convergence. According to the lore, it can cut through anything, even time itself. Which, naturally, makes it the sort of thing every forgotten monster and ambitious ruler would kill for.”
The nymphryn flicked her tail, as if to say that sounds about right.
They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the labyrinth pressing down on them. The nymphryn broke the quiet first, her voice softer now. “What do you think the system is, Kaelen?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. And I’m not sure I want to.”
She tilted her head, her feathers shimmering faintly. “Why not? Isn’t it comforting to think there’s something out there guiding us?”
Kaelen gave her a flat look. “Comforting? It’s watching us, giving us cryptic warnings, and sending us into life-threatening situations. That’s not comforting. That’s creepy.”
The nymphryn chuckled, her amusement breaking the tension. “Fair point.”
Kaelen sighed and shook his had. “Do you think its safe?”
Lyra stopped and looked at him intently. “No, I don’t think it’s safe at all. But I do think it’s good. It seems to generally put me in places where I can be of help to others.”
“Well,” and Kaelen sighed again, more deeply this time. “I guess it’s settled then. We go in, we get this shard, and we try not wake up the terrifying Guardian.”
“Exactly,” Lyra said, her tone almost cheerful.
Kaelen mock scowled at her. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“A little,” she admitted.
He groaned. “If I survive this, I’m filing a formal complaint with whoever’s in charge of this system.”
Lyra chuckled softly. “Good luck with that.”
Kaelen sighed, his gaze returning to the floating text. “Alright,” he said finally. “Let’s get this shard and get out of here. But if this Guardian wakes up, I’m blaming you.”
The nymphryn purred, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Deal.”