Quest for the Lyre of Orphaeo

[Breaker]

Naked and shivering like a leaf on the wind, she strode down into the shattered crypt. Sharp fragments of stone stabbed at her hooves with every step, but she walked onward as if unfeeling of them. Her steps carried her down the rubble, into the carved coffin where an ancient skeleton lay, clutching a lyre. It was fashioned from ageless mythril, and glowed to Breaker's eyes as if freshly polished and lit by a beacon. In truth, he was seeing its innate magic. He could see the great, and terrible potential within the instrument. It could be used to save lives or change the course of a war... or it could be used for great evil. And so it was that one such as Philomel must bear its burden, for the faun was pure of heart and sought only to please her goddess. Much like Breaker, he the guard of the lyre bearer.

Philomel crouched on her hooves beside the coffin and lowered her curled horns. She kissed her fingertips and touched them to Orphaeo's skull in a sign of reverence and respect, and then gently lifted the lyre out of his ancient arms. The bones rattled but remained intact as she rose and climbed out of the pit, enchanted instrument cradled like a babe in both arms.

"We have it," she said to Breaker, eyes glowing with tears of wonder. "After so much... we have it at last."

"Concern yourself with the treasure, lyre-bearer." Breaker said. He found the shimmering cloak he'd crafted for her lying among her possessions, and swept it around the faun's shoulders to warm her and hide her nakedness. "I will concern myself with you."

"There is such power within this," Philomel said, emotion bubbling beneath her voice. "I can feel it burrowing into my hands, my arms, my soul. It calls to me. With this power we could do anything, Breaker. We could cleanse the Red Forest. We could turn back the oncoming forces of Alerar. We could rise to the very level of Drys herself..."

"But we will not," Breaker reminded her gently. "It is for that that we were chosen for this mission. Breathe deep, lyre-bearer, and remember your true nature, and your purpose. Your goddess charged you with bringing this item to safety, not to use it."

Philomel nodded slowly. "You are right. I know you speak the truth, and yet... the power within pulls at me so. It is like an itch and an appetite all in one, begging to be scratched and slaked..."

"You are stronger than your desire." Breaker gripped the faun's shoulders and gazed into her eyes. "Only you can bear this burden, and only I can protect you." He guided her to a fallen pillar and sat her gently on the hard stone. "Rest a moment. I will gather your weapons." The faun nodded, a faraway look still haunting her eyes.

Breaker strode around the chamber picking up the various items and clothing Philomel had discarded during her transformation. He returned to her side and helped her buckle on the weapons. Her own hands never left the U-shaped instrument. Every so often she caressed the ageless mythril strings, but she never dared to pluck them. Who knew what even a single note from the ancient artifact might do?

"Are you ready, lyre-bearer?" Breaker asked at last. He stretched and twisted his torso. His legs were finally feeling like they properly belonged to him, recovering from the powerful light attack the sorceress had struck him with.

"Yes," Philomel said after a moment. "Let us leave this place."