The Ashen Rebellion

05 | A trial

LYRA LED NYSSA TO a quieter corner of the cavern, where makeshift medical supplies were stored. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the faint tang of herbs. Nyssa followed silently, her mind racing with the day's events. She hadn't even noticed the extent of her injuries until Lyra pointed them out.

''Nyssa, you're bleeding,'' Lyra had said with concern in her voice, her eyes scanning Nyssa's face.

Nyssa touched her cheek where Kael's blade had grazed her skin earlier. ''Oh, it's nothing,'' She replied dismissively, though she winced slightly at the pain.

''It's definitely something,'' Lyra retorted, gently guiding Nyssa to sit down on a stool. ''Hold still, let me take a look.''

Lyra began to clean the wounds on Nyssa's face with a gentle touch, though the rough cloth stung against the cuts. Nyssa winced but didn't protest, allowing Lyra to finish her work. Once the initial cleaning was done, Lyra inspected Nyssa more closely.

''You've got a few other cuts and bruises,'' Lyra noted, her brow furrowing. ''We'll need to bandage them up.''

Nyssa glanced around, watching as other rebels tended to their own wounds or trained in small groups, their movements fluid and practiced. Despite the dim lighting of the cavern, she could see the weariness etched on their faces, the burden of constant vigilance.

''Thank you for helping me,'' Nyssa said quietly, her voice hoarse from the tension of the fight.

Lyra nodded, her ponytail bouncing slightly. ''It's what we do for each other. You're one of us now, whether you like it or not.''

Nyssa chuckled weakly. ''I suppose I am.''

As Lyra finished bandaging Nyssa's wounds, a hushed silence fell over the cavern. Nyssa looked up to see an older woman enter, her presence commanding attention. Agatha, the leader of the rebels, walked with a confident stride, her gaze assessing everyone in the room.

''Agatha's back!'' Someone exclaimed, and the tension in the room grew palpable.

Agatha's eyes swept across the room, her expression neutral but her gaze piercing. Nyssa could sense the authority that emanated from her, the unspoken weight of responsibility. She watched as Agatha's eyes settled on something, and then her gaze locked onto Nyssa's sword, which lay on a nearby table, still glowing faintly green.

''Whose sword is this?'' Agatha's voice was calm but demanding, cutting through the silence.

No one spoke. Nyssa hesitated, her mind racing. She had left the sword behind in her haste to get her wounds treated, forgetting that its unique properties would attract attention.

''Does anyone know?'' Agatha pressed, her tone unwavering.

Nyssa's heart pounded. She looked at Kael, who stood nearby, his mask still concealing his face. His heterochromatic eyes, one blue and one silver, met hers briefly before he looked away. Nyssa's stomach churned with uncertainty.

''Is this your sword?'' Agatha asked, catching the male's short glance, and turning her gaze directly to Nyssa.

Nyssa slowly stood up, feeling the eyes of the entire room on her. She squared her shoulders, determined not to show any fear.

''Yes,'' Nyssa replied firmly, her fingers clenching at her sides.

Agatha studied her silently for a moment, her expression unreadable. ''You're a Wyrd,'' She stated matter-of-factly.

Nyssa said nothing, the truth of Agatha's statement not requiring confirmation.

Agatha turned to Kael, her gaze piercing. ''You knew about this?''