Page 18 of The Awakening of Essensia

She turned. Captain Wren approached, his expression unreadable. “Commander's office. Now.”

She opened her mouth to ask about Freya, but he was already walking away.

When she reached Commander Lysander’s door, she hesitated, something tugging at her turn just as it had the previous morning. This time, she let herself look.

Carved into the door across the hall was a single word. Captain. The office beyond belonged to Captain Wren now, but those seven letters still read as six to her. Father.

Behind her, the door creaked open. Commander Lysander stood there, his expression a strange mix of pride and sorrow. He stepped aside and held the door open. She walked in, the soft click behind her louder than it should have been.

“Sit,” he said, circling the desk.

She sat on the edge of the seat, trying not to smile. Her fingers tapped against her knees. Her tongue ran along her teeth.

“Take a breath, child,” Commander Lysander said softly.

It didn’t matter that she was no longer a child. That gentle tone was enough to loosen the knot in her throat. “Sorry. I’m nervous.”

He leaned forward, resting both hands on a folded piece of parchment. “I’m not sure how to say this,” he said, leaning back and taking the letter with him.

He was unsettled.

A soft thrumming sounded in her ears.

He let out a short breath and slid the letter towards her face down. A golden wax seal caught the light. She reached for it, her fingers tracing the smooth emblem. A mountain in the centre, two swords crossed in front, twin felines flanking them. At the base of the mountain, a crown. The Royal Crest.

She turned it over. Two neat curling words inked the paper.

Vaelira Tarn

Her breath caught and the letter slipped from her fingers. “What is this?”

“Open it.”

She broke the wax seal, unfolded the parchment, and read. It took only a moment to understand its meaning. Her old dreams, the ones she thought she’d buried, were there in black ink, laid out with terrifying finality. She should have felt triumphant, but she didn’t.

The letter trembled in her hands.

“You have been summoned to Caerthalyn,” Commander Lysander said quietly.

She let out a slow, uneven breath. Saying it aloud made it real in a way the ink hadn’t.

“You don’t look pleased,” he added.

“I don’t understand,” she said, meeting his gaze and laying the letter on the table. “Why me? There are better choices. Stronger ones,” she hesitated, “like Rurik.” She regretted saying it the second it passed her lips.

Commander Lysander raised an eyebrow. They both laughed and it felt almost normal, but the silence returned, heavier than before.

“You must go, Lira.” he said softly. “Even as a child, you told me you wanted this. What’s changed?”

What had changed? She had set out to be like her father. Fierce. Courageous. Someone who stood between danger and the people they loved. She had wanted to protect others the way he had protected her. The way no one had protected her mother.

It had been a dream spoken in the safety of childhood, never something real enough to consider a possibility. Now that it was, she couldn’t do it.

“I can still be useful here,” she said, “and I can’t leave Jon.” They were all each other had left. She wouldn’t tear that apart, not after everything they had already lost. She wouldn’t become one more absence in his life.

Vaelira’s voice hardened. “I won’t leave him.”

Commander Lysander studied her, his gaze gentle, but guarded. For a heartbeat she thought he might yield.