Chapter 2 Ashes & Keys

Eryndra POV

The bells rang so damn slowly.

They always did at funerals, and each toll dragged the grief out longer than it needed to be. I knelt on the cold white stone with the rest of the Temple. My knees ached through the thin fabric, and my hands were folded the way they taught us. I had my spine straight, and my chin lifted. I recited the rites when prompted. I bowed when the High Priestess gestured. I pressed my palm to the earth when it was time to return her body to it.

Lysenne Sonbrae. Healer. Daughter of Sunreach. Beloved of The Temple. My mother. The incense smell was too sweet, cloying in my throat and making me almost gag. White flowers were arranged with obsessive precision around the ceremonial dais, the petals perfect and unblemished. White robes. White banners. White stone. As if purity could soften the brutality of loss.

When it ended, I rose and did not linger. I stepped away before the final bell finished tolling, and the sound still vibrated through the air as murmurs rippled behind me. I felt eyes on my back lingering, assessing, and whispering. Emerald hair did that. So did refusing to perform grief the way people expected.

I was halfway down the Temple steps when a sharp voice cut through the air. “Eryndra Sonbrae.”

I stopped and turned slowly. An apprentice mage strode toward me, his robes snapping around his legs with practiced authority. Sunlight caught in his blond hair, too polished, too Temple-perfect. He was tall, at least six feet, all clean lines and controlled posture. His eyes were a pale, unsettling green that reminded me of glass...clear, sharp, and cold. “You left early,” he said.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared up at him. “She was my mother. I can grieve how I want to.”

He inhaled sharply, and his nostrils flared. “How unprofessional.” Something inside me snapped. What was his problem? Seriously. “Leave me alone,” I said flatly. “I’m going home.”

I turned and stormed down the steps before he could respond. People stared as I cut through town in full ceremonial white, my emerald hair blazing under the sun like a challenge. I took side streets, then narrower ones, slipping into alleys that smelled of damp stone and old magic, trying to disappear. It was useless. Green hair and white robes in daylight might as well have been a parade announcement.

I passed the flower stall near the square and slowed. Lillies. My mother’s favorite. I leaned in and breathed them in, the scent sharp and sweet, and my chest tightened until it hurt. My eyes burned. I swallowed hard and forced my feet to move again. When our house came into view, my pace quickened. I glanced over my shoulder once, then again, before slipping inside and bolting the door. Only then did I allow myself to breathe.

I took the stairs two at a time and went straight to my room. The ceremonial robes hit the floor in a soft white heap, and I pulled on a simple wool gown, undyed and practical, the kind we made ourselves. It hugged my waist and hips, familiar and grounding. I felt exposed and dangerous all at once, with nerves buzzing beneath my skin. The key weighed heavily in my pocket. I pulled it out and paced, retracing my steps from earlier, and from every morning before. There’s an old trunk. Your father’s. The basement is hidden. I pressed my hands to a section of the wall. Then another. Cool stone. Solid. Unyielding. No seams. No magic I could feel. My chest tightened. She had died before she could tell me how.

I planted my hands on my hips and stared at the stone, cocking one hip in frustration. “You have to be here,” I muttered. I let out a long, shaking sigh when a loud knock slammed into the door downstairs. I groaned. “WHY?” I stalked down the hall and yanked the door open. It was him. The damned mage. His gaze dropped immediately, and very deliberately, to my chest. I snorted. “Eyes up here, mage. I have a face.” He jerked his head up, and his ears flushed red. “Hells. I’m sorry.”

I arched a brow. “Mages swear now? How unprofessional.” He scowled, and his jaw tightened, and I hated that I noticed how infuriatingly handsome he was when he did that. Gross. The last thing I need right now is boy problems. Especially a mage boy. No thank you. “What in the hells could you possibly want,” I asked, “that required you to knock on my door? I am very busy.” He leaned slightly, peering past me into the house. “Busy doing what?”

I stomped my foot. “None of your damned business!”

He shook his head slowly, and his lips twitched. “Who knew you were so feisty.”

“Goodbye.” I slammed the door in his face and turned back toward the wall, and the door opened again. I spun. “Did you seriously just let yourself in?” He was already beside me, studying the stone with mock seriousness. “So,” he said, “what are we looking at?”

“Leave.”

“No thanks.”

“Why?” He shrugged, his hands loose at his sides. “I don’t know. I just felt like you shouldn’t be alone.” I went very still. I studied him, searching for mockery, cruelty, or the Temple’s familiar condescension. I found none of it...and that unsettled me more than if I had. “Leave my house,” I said tightly, “before I call the witches.” His eyes widened. “Do not do that.” I smiled, sharp and humorless. “Why not? You’re harassing me.”

“I am not,” he said. “I’m trying to be friendly, and you’re not making it easy.”

“Why,” I snapped, “would a mage want to be friendly to me? I don’t trust any of you buttholes anymore.” I gestured at the wall. “Now leave. I need to find this hidden door.” His expression changed instantly, interest lighting his eyes. “A hidden door?” he said.

I closed my eyes. “Oh gods.”

“Absolutely not leaving now,” he said brightly. “My interest is officially piqued.”

I groaned. “Fine. Then be useful.” I held up the key with trembling fingers. “This is it. My mother said my father left me a trunk in the basement. There’s a hidden door. I just can’t find it.” The frustration slipped into my voice, raw and exposed. He grinned and rubbed his hands together like a child who was just offered forbidden sweets. “This will be fun. This is literally my favorite shit.” I snorted, a reluctant smile tugging at my mouth. “Same.”

He paced the wall slowly, his boots soft against the stone, and his fingers trailing like he was feeling it breathe. He knocked once. Twice. Paused. Tapped with his knuckle. Pressed his palm flat and murmured something under his breath, and magic prickled the air like static. I watched with my arms crossed, and impatience buzzing under my skin. Then he knocked twice on one exact spot and grinned. I stared as a small, perfectly round keyhole shimmered into existence in the stone. My mouth fell open. “How did you do that?” He shrugged, entirely too pleased with himself. “I’m really good at this.”

I scowled. “Ugh. Fine. Whatever.” I slid the key into the hole and we both froze. The wall rippled like water, and stone folded inward as seams appeared where none had been before. Slowly, a door formed, and ancient runes briefly flared before fading as it creaked open. My breath caught, and he whispered, “This is very old magic, Eryndra. I’ve never seen anything like it.” My eyes widened as I peered down the narrow stone steps swallowed by darkness. “Any way to light that up?”

He grinned, and I hated that it was cute. A small glowing orb bloomed in his palm, warm and steady. I snorted. “You’re definitely useful.” He huffed. “I am awesome.” We descended slowly, the air cooling with every step. When we reached the bottom, I gasped. It was all there. My father’s things. Books stacked neatly. Scrolls tied with faded ribbon. A desk worn smooth by familiar hands. Maps pinned to the walls. Clothing folded carefully in chests. It felt like stepping into a moment frozen in time. He’d been gone since I was ten. My throat closed. A sound slipped out of me, small and broken.

The mage shifted awkwardly beside me. “I’m… Callum,” he said softly. “Is this your dad’s stuff?”

I nodded. My eyes locked on the trunk at the far end of the room. I rushed to it with my heart hammering. The lock was identical. Callum drifted toward the desk, and his fingers hovered over the books. His brow furrowed. “This stuff is old. I’ve never seen any of these titles. The Temple library says they carry all records.” I shook my head. “The Temple lies, Callum.”

He scoffed. “They don’t. I grew up in the Temple.”

“Whatever,” I muttered. I unlocked the trunk. Right on top lay a letter. My hands trembled as I opened it. Callum wandered over softly and peered over my shoulder.

My Emerald Star,

If you are reading this, then I was right, and I am sorry for what it cost you. Do not panic. Breathe. You always did think better once you slowed your heart.

I sucked in a shaky breath.

The Temple has lied to Rhazir for centuries. About dragons, and Eggkeepers. About the balance they stole and the blood they spilled to keep it.

You are not safe anymore. Read the books. All of them. The scrolls too, especially the ones marked in green thread. You will find a spell inside the trunk. Use it to shrink everything here. The trunk will fit inside the enchanted satchel beneath this letter.

I glanced down. There it was.

Pack what you need. Leave immediately. Do not tell anyone where you are going. Especially The Temple.

My chest tightened.

Dragons are real. Eggkeepers were hunted. Other continents still remember the truth. The Siren Sea guards a lost city of merpeople who never forgot. There's a prophecy in the trunk my emerald. You will know when you read it. You are now the last living Eggkeeper.

Callum went very still beside me, and I sucked in a breath.

Many bonds will find you, my brave girl. You will need every one of them. Trust none but your bonded.

Tears blurred my vision.

Do not look for me.

My heart cracked.

You follow your destiny, child. It is larger than either of us ever knew. Be strong. All my love.

-Father

The letter slipped from my fingers. I stood there shaking, the weight of the world pressing in. Callum swallowed hard. “Eryndra…” I lifted my head, tears burning in my eyes, and resolve settled in my bones like steel. “I’m leaving,” I said. Callum stared at me like the floor had dropped out from under him. “Dragons,” he said slowly. “Merpeople. Other continents.” His voice dropped. “Last living Eggkeeper.”

I said nothing. “Where will you go?” he asked. “Do you even know how to protect yourself out there?” I let out a sharp breath. “I know how to fight. My mother made sure I was trained. Privately.” He scoffed. “Against what? Temple guards? Shadow beasts? Dragons?”

“I’ll manage.”

“No,” he snapped. “You won’t.”

“I am not taking you with me,” I said flatly.

His jaw tightened. “You’re not walking into this alone.”

“Absolutely not.” For a moment, it looked like he might argue. Then his mouth set, and he turned sharply on his heel and stormed up the stairs without another word. The door slammed overhead, and I stared after him with my heart pounding, then shook it off. He wasn’t coming back. I wiped my face, squared my shoulders, and started packing.

Because whether anyone liked it or not, I was leaving Sunreach behind, and I was going ALONE.