Awakening Hearts

Rowan was packing his bags. He was wearing all black and had composed himself after the previous night's turmoil. Today, he was ready to resume his search. He had taken leave from his post. After hiding his weapon, he left the room, put his bags in the back seat, and sat in the front. As he started the car, Ashford materialized out of nowhere in the passenger seat.

"Dammit!" Rowan cursed. "Can't you appear like a normal person, Ashford?"

The other man smirked at his expression. "Can't you use my first name, idiot?" he retorted.

"Whatever," Rowan said. "You'd better be bearing good news."

"Oh, I am," Ashford replied. "Look ahead. I've found her address."

Rowan abruptly stopped the car and looked at Ashford expectantly. "And why did you stop? Where's the address?"

"Oh, stop there, lover boy. There's a problem, though. It's like her house is protected by a barrier. I don't know about you, but I can't enter," Ashford said, helplessly running a hand through his hair.

"A barrier? But how can she cast a barrier when she hasn't awakened her powers yet? Someone is either helping her—" He stopped mid-sentence.

"You already know the answer, Rowan," Ashford said.

"Let me show you something. Maybe you'll be clearer on how to approach her then," Ashford offered.

Ashford placed his fingers on Rowan's head, and suddenly the scene changed. Rowan found himself at Lyra's mother's party. He was confused at first, but when he looked around, he understood that no one could see him. He began to search everywhere, not understanding why Ashford was showing him this party. Then, he understood. He saw her entering, and his breath caught. She looked beautiful. Rowan was so engrossed in watching her that he hadn't noticed anything else.

"Oh, honey, you're here!" A voice broke his concentration on Lyra. When he saw the face of the speaker, he understood why Ashford wanted him to see this particular scene. "Wren," he whispered inaudibly. Wren looked in his direction, and his heart dropped. He thought she had seen him, but when Rowan looked back, he saw another woman approaching them. Rowan sighed in relief. She wasn't looking at him.

"Oh, happy birthday, Mama!" Lyra hugged the woman. Rowan's brows furrowed. She was Lyra's mother? For some odd reason, Rowan couldn't believe it. He wanted to delve deeper into their relationship, but that's when everything began to dim, and then he opened his eyes.

"Wren? Ashford, Wren is still alive? You said she died!" Rowan looked at Ashford, waiting for an explanation.

Ashford had a wry smile on his face. "Oh, she didn't die. She just fled to protect that little witch of yours, you know. And I don't blame her. Aren't I doing the same?"

"Anyway, how do you plan to enter her life? It won't be so easy this time," Ashford continued.

Rowan sighed, listening to Ashford. "Well, when was it easy? But it was my mistake last time, so I'll have to put in more effort. But you said there's a barrier in her house. How the hell am I going to enter? It's not like technology would work." He paused, then a thought struck him

"Oh, maybe I could do something in this regard."Ashford smiled, which alarmed Rowan.

"What are you going to do? You're not going to break the barrier, are you?" Rowan stopped his rambling abruptly. "What are you talking about, idiot? We're not in the medieval era anymore. I just bought the house next to hers. That area is mostly secluded; very few people live there. Maybe that's what attracted Lyra to that place. But don't screw up your chance this time. You do know this is your last chance. You won't meet her again if you miss this opportunity."

Rowan gulped, hearing this. "I know. I won't commit the same mistakes again. I already have a plan in mind. Anyway, thank you for your help. I wish I had listened to you last time; then I wouldn't be in this predicament." Rowan looked at Ashford and nodded. Ashford disappeared from the car, leaving Rowan to his own thoughts.

*************

It had been two days since Lyra and Wren returned to their own home, and Lyra still found her thoughts drifting to Layla. She felt a strange certainty that Layla held some connection to her, yet at other times, she dismissed the idea as absurd. How could a character from a book be related to her? She hadn't shared these thoughts with Wren; it would have been pointless. Wren wouldn't tell her anything. Lyra was also waiting for Sophia to call or give her any information, but nothing had come. Even now, Lyra was trying to write. She was working on a new book but the story of Layla had so thoroughly consumed her thoughts that she found herself unable to write a single word.

Lyra suddenly felt tired, so she closed her writing pad and shut her eyes. She was suddenly somewhere else; a feeling of déjà vu washed over her.

Lyra found herself in a room that was dark with old wood paneling, polished smooth over time. A huge four-poster bed stood in the center, its carved posts reaching up to the dark, beamed ceiling. Cream-colored drapes hung around the bed, revealing crisp white sheets. The bed looked old but comfortable.

A small, arched window in the thick stone wall showed a bit of gray sky. Weak light came through, catching dust motes in the air.

Lamps on tables beside the bed cast shadows on the carved bed posts and two ornate chairs by the large stone fireplace. A single candle flickered on a table in front of the fireplace. Open books on the table suggested the room was used for study and rest. An old, patterned rug covered the stone floor. The room felt grand and old.