Father's Daughter

3.02

CHAPTER TWO

The air on Scathan's planet shimmered with a quiet magic, a palpable energy that seemed to flow through the landscape, binding every floating island, every glowing plant, and every waterfall together in a harmonious dance. Lyra stood on the cliff's edge, staring into the vastness, trying to shake off the remnants of her memory. It clung to her, though, wrapping itself around her heart and refusing to let go. She felt the weight of that night like a physical presence—her mother's final gaze, her desperate words, the terrifying figure who had taken everything from her.

She clenched her fists, forcing herself to breathe deeply as the wind whipped through her hair. Behind her, Scathan watched silently, his expression both worried and compassionate. He knew that look in his daughter's eyes; he'd seen it in the mirror himself on the darker days of his past. Lyra's magic flickered faintly around her, responding to her turbulent emotions as shadows wavered and danced around her feet.

"Lyra." Scathan's voice was soft, but it reached her, pulling her back to the present. "Are you alright?"

Lyra glanced back at him, her gaze steady but filled with a sadness she rarely showed. She took a slow, steadying breath, then nodded, though her heart still felt heavy.

"Dad..." she began, her voice a little shaky. "She... Mom died when I was ten." She could see the pain bloom in his eyes, an agony that seemed to reach deep into his very soul. "It's been nine years, and I still miss her. Every day."

Scathan's expression fell, and he stepped forward, his tall figure casting a shadow across the cliff. She could see the tremble in his hands, and the pain etched into his features was raw, like a wound that had never healed. His voice came out rough, barely a whisper. "My beautiful wife... if only I had been there. I could have protected her."

Lyra shook her head gently, offering a sad smile. "You couldn't have known. And I... I ran. I was scared, and I was alone." She lowered her gaze, her voice catching on the last word, before she pulled the staff from where she'd strapped it to her side, the faintly glowing artifact humming with a life of its own. "This is all I have left of her."

Scathan reached out, reverently taking the staff from her hands. He handled it delicately, as though it was a priceless relic, and perhaps it was. To both of them, it was a symbol, a last connection to someone they both loved deeply. He turned it over in his hands, examining it with a mixture of grief and pride.

"It's beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with an awe that only made Lyra's heart ache more. "She would be so proud of you. Of the person you've become."

Lyra met his gaze, her own eyes misty. "She was the best witch I ever knew. Strong, fearless... I watched her fight to protect me. But..." She hesitated, her fists clenching unconsciously at the memory. "There was this woman. I don't know who she was, but she absorbed Mom's magic, like it was nothing." Her voice grew hard, the fear and anger she'd felt that night bleeding into her words.

Scathan's face hardened, his gaze growing steely as he absorbed her words. "We need to find out who she is," he said, his tone firm, laced with concern. "Anyone with that kind of power could be a danger to you. I can't lose you, Lyra—not like we lost her."

Lyra lifted her chin, determination settling into her bones as she met his gaze with a fierce resolve. "I'll find out who she is. But first..." She took a step back, gripping the staff tightly as she felt her magic stir, "I wanted to show you what I can do. I wanted to show you that I'm strong, too."

With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, focusing her energy as it pulsed through her veins. Shadows began to swirl around her, the darkness responding eagerly to her command. It rose up, twisting and curling, forming intricate patterns in the air, a beautiful yet haunting display of power that seemed to mirror her mother's magic but was tinged with something uniquely hers—a piece of her own soul woven into the magic itself.

Scathan watched, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and pride. "Incredible," he breathed, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "You're so much like your mother... and a bit like me, too."

Lyra smiled softly, letting the shadows disperse, though her heart still raced from the rush of power. "I hope so," she replied quietly, her voice carrying a weight of meaning that hung in the air between them. "She's the reason I'm here, the reason I fight. But I also... I want to protect this place. I want to protect you."

Scathan stepped forward, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "And you will, Lyra. You've become someone powerful, someone to be reckoned with. But remember, strength isn't just about power. It's also about heart."

They stood together on the cliff, the vastness of Jovian spreading out before them, a silent testament to the strength that ran through their veins—a strength born not just of magic, but of love, loss, and an unbreakable will to protect.

 ---

Jovian stretched before Lyra in a breathtaking display of life and color, each scene more magical than the last. The landscape was a blend of rich greens, glowing blues, and vibrant purples, each shade deepened by the gentle hum of energy that seemed to flow through every tree, every stone, every ripple in the stream. Floating islands drifted lazily in the sky, trailing vines like roots that reached out to connect with the land below, forming natural bridges to traverse the skies. Scathan walked beside her, leading her through the heart of his ancestral land, where centuries of life and magic had interwoven into a tapestry of unparalleled beauty.

Scathan's eyes sparkled as he pointed out the flora and fauna around them. "This planet is rich in magic," he said, his voice filled with pride and reverence. "It thrives because of its inhabitants—my ancestors."

Lyra listened intently, taking in every detail as her gaze swept over the landscape. Plants of every shape and size grew around them, their leaves glistening with an otherworldly glow as though kissed by stars. Flowers the size of her palm opened and closed rhythmically, responding to the faintest shifts in light, while vines covered in delicate silver petals climbed up the towering trees that reached towards the sky. Tiny creatures with wings as transparent as glass flitted between the blooms, their laughter-like chirps adding a symphonic layer to the already enchanting world.

She let out a breath, a sense of awe in her voice. "It's... it's beautiful, Dad. I can't believe I'm finally here." Her eyes sparkled with a childlike wonder as she took it all in, the weight of her memories lifting, if only for a moment, as she embraced the magic around her.

Scathan gave her a warm smile, his expression softened by the look of pure amazement on his daughter's face. "You're welcome here anytime, Lyra. This world is a part of you, just as much as it's a part of me. You belong here too."

As they walked, the sounds of rustling leaves and the gentle murmur of the streams filled the silence between them. The path opened up to a magnificent waterfall that cascaded from a cliff above, the water shimmering with rainbow hues as it tumbled down into a crystal-clear pool below. Rays of sunlight filtered through the canopy, illuminating the spray of mist in a dance of colors that seemed to radiate life itself.

Lyra stepped closer to the edge of the pool, transfixed by the sight. The air was thick with energy, each droplet of water catching the light as if it held a tiny spark of magic within it. "I've never seen anything like this," she murmured, her voice almost a whisper. She reached out a hand, letting the mist settle on her skin, cool and tingling with an electric hum that made her heart race.

"Jovian has always been a sanctuary," Scathan said as he joined her by the pool. "It is a world where magic is as natural as breathing. The creatures, the plants—they all thrive because of the magic flowing through this land, sustaining it, connecting everything in harmony. My ancestors learned to live alongside it, to nurture it. It's our legacy."

A ripple of power washed over her, and Lyra felt it resonate within her own magic, like an echo answering a call. She glanced at her father, understanding dawning in her eyes. "It's like the magic is alive," she said, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "Like it's... a part of everything here."

Scathan nodded, a look of pride and something deeper—perhaps love, perhaps memory—flickering across his face. "That's exactly it, Lyra. Here, magic isn't just a tool or a gift; it's a lifeforce, woven into the very fabric of the planet. And now, it's part of you, too."