The Girl Who Carried the Ancient Legacy

The rain had been falling since morning.

By the time the final bell rang, the school courtyard was already covered in puddles, reflecting the tall buildings and expensive cars waiting outside the gates.

Students poured out of the school in groups, laughing and talking about their plans for the weekend.

Among them was Lyra, a quiet seventeen-year-old girl carrying a worn backpack against her chest.

She walked alone.

Her school uniform was clean and neatly pressed, but it was noticeably older than everyone else's. She had only one set. Every night, she washed it by hand and hung it beside her bed so it would be dry and ready for the next morning.

Lyra didn't mind.

At least, she tried not to.

She had earned her place at the school through a scholarship. Her grades were among the best in her year, and that was the one thing nobody could take away from her.

But being smart had never been enough to make her belong.

As she walked toward the bicycle parking area, three girls stepped into her path.

They were some of the most popular students in the school. Their uniforms were perfectly tailored, their bags were expensive, and their parents' cars were always waiting for them at the front entrance.

One of the girls looked Lyra up and down.

"Still wearing that?"

Lyra lowered her eyes.

"Yeah."

The girl laughed.

"Don't you ever get embarrassed?"

Lyra tightened her grip on her backpack.

"It's still in good condition."

"That's not what I meant."

The other girls laughed.

One of them glanced at Lyra's shoes.

"Those look like they're about to fall apart."

Lyra said nothing.

She had learned that answering only made things worse.

The first girl stepped closer.

"You know, I honestly don't understand why you even come here."

Lyra finally looked up.

"Because I have a scholarship."

"Exactly."

The girl smiled.

"You have a scholarship. We have parents who can actually afford this place."

Lyra's expression hardened for a moment, but she quickly looked away.

The girl continued.

"Don't forget your place."

A few students nearby heard them.

Nobody said anything.

Nobody stepped in.

They simply looked away.

Lyra had stopped expecting anyone to help a long time ago.

She turned and tried to walk past them.

But one of the girls deliberately bumped her shoulder.

Her backpack slipped from her arm.

Books scattered across the wet pavement.

Lyra immediately crouched down to gather them.

"Oops."

The girl smiled.

"Sorry."

She didn't sound sorry at all.

Lyra picked up her books one by one.

Then came the shove.

She lost her balance and fell backward into a large puddle.

Cold, muddy water soaked through her uniform.

For a moment, everything became silent.

The girls stared at her.

Then one of them laughed.

"Look at you."

Another covered her mouth, pretending to be shocked.

"You really do belong in the mud."

The laughter continued as Lyra slowly stood.

Her hands were trembling.

Her hair was dripping.

Mud covered her uniform.

But she refused to cry.

She looked at them for a moment, then quietly picked up her bicycle.

As she walked away, she heard one final comment behind her.

"Maybe next time, don't pretend you're one of us."

Lyra kept walking.

She didn't turn around.

She couldn't let them see how much it hurt.

Outside the school gates, the rain had become heavier.

Lyra pushed her bicycle onto the road and began riding home.

The cold rain washed the mud from her face, but it couldn't wash away the words.

She passed expensive houses, restaurants, and brightly lit shops.

Then, little by little, the city became quieter.

The houses became smaller.

Eventually, she reached the modest home she shared with her grandparents.

It wasn't much.

The paint was old.

The roof had been repaired more times than she could remember.

But it was home.

Lyra stopped outside the front door.

She took a deep breath.

Then she wiped her face, forced a smile onto her lips, and opened the door.

"I'm home!"

From the living room came an elderly woman's cheerful voice.

"You're finally home! Come here, sweetheart. I made your favorite."

Lyra's smile became genuine.

"Really, Grandma?"

Her grandmother looked toward the doorway and immediately noticed her soaked uniform.

"Oh, goodness! What happened to you?"

Lyra quickly laughed.

"I got caught in the rain."

Her grandmother frowned.

"You could have called us."

"I know."

Lyra placed her backpack down.

"I'm okay."

From the kitchen, her grandfather called out.

"She's probably hungry. Let her change first."

Lyra laughed.

"Grandpa, you always think I'm hungry."

"Because you are."

She smiled.

For the first time that day, Lyra felt safe.

She didn't tell them what happened at school.

She didn't tell them about the girls.

She didn't tell them about the mud.

She simply walked toward her room, still smiling.

Her grandparents didn't know what had happened.

And Lyra intended to keep it that way.

Because no matter how lonely she felt outside those walls, this little house was the one place where she never had to pretend to be someone else.

She was simply their granddaughter.

Their precious girl.

And for now, that was enough.

That night, Lyra fell asleep peacefully.

But sometime before dawn, her dream changed.

She was walking home alone.

It was the same road she took every day, but something about it felt wrong.

The street was unusually quiet. A few streetlights stood along the road, casting pale pools of light onto the pavement, while the spaces between them remained dim and shadowy.

There was no traffic.

No neighbors outside.

No voices.

Not even the sound of a passing motorcycle.

Lyra tightened her grip around her bag and continued walking.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Then she heard another sound.

A second pair of footsteps.

Behind her.

She stopped.

The footsteps stopped too.

Lyra slowly turned around.

There was no one there.

She stared down the empty street.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

She swallowed nervously and continued walking.

A few seconds later, she heard them again.

Step.

Step.

Step.

This time, they were closer.

Lyra glanced over her shoulder.

A figure was standing beneath one of the streetlights.

She couldn't see his face clearly.

Her stomach tightened.

She walked faster.

The figure began walking too.

Lyra's breathing became uneven.

She looked back again.

The distance between them was getting smaller.

Fear suddenly took over.

Lyra broke into a run.

Her shoes struck the pavement as she sprinted down the empty street.

Behind her, footsteps thundered after her.

Someone was chasing her.

“Help!” she screamed.

But the neighborhood remained silent.

She ran faster, clutching her bag against her chest.

The footsteps were getting closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Then a hand suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm.

Lyra screamed and tried to pull away.

“Let go!”

The hand tightened around her.

She twisted desperately, trying to escape.

And just as the figure pulled her backward...

Lyra suddenly woke up.

She shot upright in bed, gasping for breath.

Her hand instinctively went to her arm.

Nothing.

There was no one there.

She looked around her room, her heart pounding.

Lyra took several shaky breaths.

“It was just a dream,” Lyra whispered to herself.

With a small sigh, she pushed the strange feeling aside and got out of bed. She grabbed her towel and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.

After freshening up, she returned to her room and changed into her school uniform. She carefully fixed her collar, smoothed out her skirt, and tied her hair neatly. She checked herself in the mirror before picking up her schoolbag.

Her grandmother was already awake.

The familiar clatter of dishes drifted through the small house, filling the quiet morning with warmth.

Lyra smiled and walked toward the kitchen.

“Good morning, Grandma.”

Her grandmother turned around with a warm smile.

“Good morning, sweetheart. Sit down. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Thank you.”

Her grandfather was already sitting at the table, drinking his coffee.

“Good morning, Grandpa.”

“Morning, Lyra.”

She sat beside him and looked at the simple breakfast her grandmother had prepared.

It wasn't much, but Lyra never complained.

Her grandparents had always done everything they could for her.

“Eat properly,” her grandmother reminded her. “And don't skip dinner again just because you have schoolwork.”

Lyra smiled sheepishly.

“I won't.”

Her grandfather chuckled.

“And come home before it gets too late. You know the road near the end of the neighborhood isn't very safe after dark.”

“I know, Grandpa.”

She finished her breakfast, thanked them both, and stood up.

“I'll go now.”

Her grandmother reached over and gently fixed a strand of Lyra's hair.

“Take care of yourself.”

Lyra smiled.

“I will.”

She stepped outside and began walking toward school.

The school grounds were already crowded when Lyra arrived.

Students moved through the wide entrance in groups, laughing and talking among themselves. Many of them came from wealthy families, arriving in expensive cars or being dropped off by private drivers.

Lyra simply walked through the gate with her old but carefully maintained schoolbag.

She was used to the looks.

Some students stared at her uniform.

Others whispered when she passed.

She kept her eyes forward.

She had learned that reacting only made things worse.

Classes passed slowly throughout the morning.

By lunchtime, Lyra headed toward the canteen with her tray.

She looked around for an empty table.

Just as she was about to sit down, someone suddenly bumped into her.

Her tray slipped from her hands.

Food spilled across the floor.

A few students nearby laughed.

Lyra froze.

She looked up.

Lenora stood in front of her, surrounded by two girls from her group.

“Oops,” Lenora said with a fake smile. “Sorry.”

Lyra knew that expression.

“You did that on purpose.”

Lenora raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Lenora crossed her arms.

“Maybe you should watch where you're going.”

Lyra looked down at the food scattered across the floor.

Before she could say anything, another voice interrupted.

“That was obviously you.”

Lenora turned.

A girl with long hair stood nearby, holding her own tray.

She looked at Lenora with an annoyed expression.

“Seriously, Lenora? Do you ever get tired of doing that?”

Beside her stood a boy who glanced at the mess on the floor.

“Wow. Lunch and free entertainment. Great deal.”

The girl elbowed him.

“Rowan.”

“What? I'm helping.”

“You're not helping.”

“I know.”

Despite herself, Lyra almost smiled.

The girl crouched down and began helping her pick up the scattered things.

“Are you okay?”

Lyra nodded.

“I'm fine.”

“You don't look fine.”

“I'll be okay.”

The girl smiled gently.

“I'm Elodie.”

She pointed at the boy beside her.

“And that's Rowan.”

Rowan gave a small wave.

“Nice to meet you.”

Lyra hesitated before answering.

“I'm Lyra.”

Lenora rolled her eyes.

“Can we not make this into some dramatic rescue scene?”

Elodie looked up at her.

“Then maybe stop creating the drama.”

Lenora glared at her.

“Whatever.”

She walked away with her friends.

Rowan watched her leave.

“She really needs a hobby.”

Elodie sighed.

“Forget her.”

She turned back to Lyra.

“Come eat with us.”

Lyra looked at them in surprise.

“You don't have to.”

“We know,” Elodie replied. “We're inviting you because we want to.”

Lyra hesitated before giving a small smile.

“Okay.”

It was the first time anyone at school had invited her to sit with them without expecting anything in return.

Later that afternoon, Lyra sat in her classroom near the window.

The teacher continued explaining the lesson at the front of the room.

Lyra tried her best to focus.

But she was tired.

Her eyes grew heavier.

She rested her cheek against her hand and stared outside.

Then she saw something.

A familiar shape.

A cat.

It sat on the far side of the school grounds, near one of the old buildings.

Lyra blinked.

The cat looked exactly like the one she had seen before.

What is it doing here?

She leaned slightly toward the window.

The cat suddenly lifted its head.

Their eyes met.

Lyra froze.

The cat was staring directly at her.

Not at the classroom.

Not at the building.

At her.

“Miss Lyra.”

She jumped.

The entire class turned toward her.

Her teacher stood beside the board.

“Would you like to share whatever is so interesting outside?”

Lyra quickly straightened.

“No, ma'am. Sorry.”

A few students laughed.

Lenora covered her mouth, clearly amused.

The teacher sighed.

“Please pay attention to the class.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“And everyone else, be quiet and pay attention to the lesson.”

The laughter stopped.

Lyra glanced back toward the window.

The cat was gone.

After classes ended, Lyra headed to the library.

She needed somewhere quiet to study.

The library was almost empty.

Behind the librarian's desk, a quiet girl was organizing a stack of returned books. Lyra had seen her many times in class, usually sitting quietly near the front with a book in her hands, but they had never spoken.

The girl looked up when Lyra approached.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Lyra glanced at the name tag on her uniform.

Mira.

She looked at the books in front of her.

“Are you the librarian?”

Mira gave a small smile.

“Part-time student librarian.”

Lyra blinked.

“You're a student?”

“Yep.”

Lyra looked at her more carefully.

“Wait... you're Mira, right?”

Mira nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I knew it. You're in my class.”

Mira looked slightly surprised.

“You're Lyra.”

“Yeah.”

“The scholarship student?”

Lyra smiled awkwardly.

“I guess that's what everyone calls me.”

“I didn't mean it in a bad way,” Mira quickly said.

“I know.”

There was a brief silence.

Mira looked at her again.

“You're the one who got the highest score on the entrance exam, right?”

Lyra's expression turned embarrassed.

“I just studied a lot.”

Mira gave a small smile.

“I got second.”

Lyra's eyes widened.

“Really?”

Mira nodded.

“So we're classmates, our names are almost similar, and we're first and second in the class.”

Lyra laughed softly.

“I never knew that.”

“I did.”

Lyra smiled.

“You're really quiet in class.”

Mira shrugged.

“I don't really talk unless I have something to say.”

Lyra glanced around the quiet library.

“That explains why you like working here.”

Mira smiled.

“Exactly. I don't really need the money. I just like being here.”

She looked around the empty library.

“It's peaceful.”

Lyra nodded.

“I understand.”

She looked toward the shelves.

“I actually came here because I wanted somewhere quiet to study.”

“You like books?”

“Yeah. A lot.”

Mira's expression immediately brightened.

“What kind?”

Lyra thought for a moment.

“Fantasy. Mystery. Sometimes old stories and mythology.”

“Really?”

Mira suddenly sounded more interested.

She stepped out from behind the desk.

“Then you might like these.”

She led Lyra toward one of the shelves.

“There are some old books here that most students don't even bother looking at.”

“You've read them?”

“Some of them.”

Mira pulled out a dusty book and held it up.

“This one's really good.”

Lyra looked at the cover.

“You really like mythology, don't you?”

Mira nodded.

“Yeah. Especially old legends. Stories about guardians, spirits, and supernatural creatures.”

Lyra's eyes lit up.

“I like those too.”

That was when Mira became a little more talkative.

She started telling Lyra about some of the books she had read, pointing out different sections and explaining which stories she liked best.

Lyra listened with interest.

She realized that Mira wasn't actually as quiet as she seemed.

She simply didn't talk much around people she didn't know.

But once she found something she genuinely liked, she could talk about it for quite a while.

After a few minutes, Lyra smiled.

“I think we're going to get along.”

Mira looked at her for a moment before giving a small smile.

“I think so too.”

They continued talking for a little while longer.

For the first time that day, Lyra felt completely comfortable.

Eventually, she picked out a book from the shelf.

“Can I borrow this?”

“Of course.”

Mira returned to the desk and wrote down the details.

“Just bring it back next week.”

“I will. Thank you, Mira.”

“You're welcome, Lyra.”

Lyra smiled.

She still didn't know it yet, but the quiet girl behind the librarian's desk would eventually become one of her closest friends.

Time passed without Lyra noticing.

When she finally looked toward the library windows, the sky had already turned dark.

She checked the clock.

“It's already past six?”

The girl behind the desk looked surprised.

“You should go home.”

“I know.”

“You can come with me. My service is waiting outside.”

Lyra hesitated.

“That's okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. My house isn't that far.”

The girl studied her for a moment.

“It's already dark.”

“I'll be fine.”

She gave a small smile.

“Thank you, though.”

After packing her things, Lyra left the library.

The school grounds were almost empty now.

She walked through the gate and headed home.

The neighborhood became quieter as she continued.

The streetlights were on, but some areas between them were poorly lit.

Lyra tightened her grip around her bag.

Then she remembered her dream.

The empty street.

The footsteps.

Someone following her.

A hand grabbing her.

She shook her head.

It was only a dream.

She continued walking.

Step.

She stopped.

Behind her, she heard another footstep.

Lyra slowly turned around.

Nobody.

She swallowed.

Then continued.

Step.

Another sound.

Closer.

Her heart began to beat faster.

She looked back again.

A man was walking several meters behind her.

Lyra sped up.

So did he.

Her breathing became shallow.

She suddenly remembered the dream again.

The same street.

The same feeling.

The same footsteps.

“No…”

She started running.

The man ran after her.

“Hey!”

Lyra didn't stop.

“Wait!”

She ran faster.

Her bag bounced against her side as she desperately searched for somewhere to go.

She turned down a narrower road.

The man followed.

Lyra's breathing became painful.

Then a hand suddenly grabbed her arm.

She screamed.

“Let me go!”

She swung her bag with all her strength.

It struck the man across the face.

He stumbled backward and crashed against a wall.

Lyra kicked him hard in the leg and ran.

“Get away from me!”

The man cursed and chased after her.

Lyra ran until her legs hurt.

She hid behind a structure and covered her mouth, trying to silence her breathing.

For a moment, everything was quiet.

Then she heard his voice.

“You think you can run from me?”

Lyra squeezed her eyes shut.

The footsteps came closer.

“You're going to regret making me chase you.”

She waited until the footsteps moved away.

Then she ran again.

She didn't know where she was going.

She only wanted to get away.

But the road ahead became narrower.

The neighborhood ended near a steep drop surrounded by rough ground and old stone barriers.

Lyra stopped.

Her eyes widened.

There was nowhere else to go.

She turned around.

The man was already there.

“Please,” she said, backing away. “Stay away from me.”

He continued toward her.

Lyra tried to run past him.

He grabbed her.

She fought back.

She scratched his arm and struggled against his grip.

“Let me go!”

In the struggle, the man pulled out a knife.

Lyra's eyes widened.

“Wait…”

The blade struck her.

Pain exploded through her body.

She staggered backward.

The man froze.

For a second, he looked terrified by what he had done.

Then panic took over.

He shoved her.

Lyra lost her balance.

She fell backward over the edge.

Her scream disappeared into the darkness.

Everything became silent.

Lyra could barely breathe.

Her vision blurred.

The pain was overwhelming.

She looked upward.

At the top of the cliff stood the cat.

The same cat.

It stared down at her.

Lyra's lips trembled.

“You…”

The cat suddenly disappeared.

Then, in the next instant, it was standing directly beside her.

Lyra couldn't understand how.

The cat stepped closer.

It lowered its head and touched its forehead gently against hers.

A brilliant light erupted around them.

Lyra's eyes widened.

The pain disappeared.

The world became white.

And then everything went black.

When Lyra opened her eyes again, the first thing she saw was a white ceiling.

She blinked.

The smell of medicine filled the room.

A hospital.

“Lyra!”

Her grandmother's voice broke through her confusion.

Her grandmother rushed to her bedside and held her hand.

Her grandfather stood behind her, his face pale with worry.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Lyra stared at them.

“Grandma?”

“You're awake.”

Her grandmother's eyes filled with tears.

“We were so worried.”

Lyra tried to sit up.

Her grandfather gently stopped her.

“Slowly.”

Lyra looked around.

“What happened?”

Her grandparents exchanged a glance.

“You were found near the edge of the neighborhood,” her grandfather explained. “Someone called for help.”

Lyra frowned.

Fragments began returning.

The footsteps.

The man.

Running.

The knife.

The cliff.

She touched her side.

“I remember…”

Her grandparents listened as she tried to explain what had happened.

But there were pieces she couldn't remember.

Especially what happened after she fell.

She couldn't explain the cat.

She couldn't explain the light.

And she wasn't even sure whether those things had really happened.

Later, the police came to speak with her.

They asked questions about the attacker, the route she had taken, and everything she could remember.

Lyra answered as best as she could.

But there were still gaps in her memory.

“I don't remember what happened after I fell,” she said quietly.

The police officer nodded.

“That's okay. You've been through a traumatic experience. Take your time.”

After the police left, Lyra's grandparents stayed beside her.

That night, the hospital became quiet.

Her grandparents had gone home briefly to rest.

Lyra lay awake, staring at the ceiling.

She remembered the dream.

The footsteps.

The chase.

The hand grabbing her.

It had been almost exactly the same.

She closed her eyes.

Then she heard something.

A faint sound outside the window.

Meow.

Lyra opened her eyes.

She slowly turned toward the window.

Her heart stopped.

The cat was sitting outside.

On the fourth floor.

Lyra stared at it in disbelief.

“How did you get up here?”

The cat simply stared back at her.

Those strange eyes seemed to glow faintly in the darkness.

Lyra blinked.

The cat was gone.

She sat upright.

“What...?”

Then memories suddenly came rushing back.

The cliff.

The blood.

The cat.

The light.

Lyra grabbed the blanket tightly.

Her heart pounded.

“That cat…”

Lyra remained sitting upright in the hospital bed, staring at the window long after the cat had disappeared.

Her heart was still beating quickly.

She couldn't understand what she had just seen.

The same cat had appeared near her school.

Then in her dream.

Then at the cliff.

And now somehow, it had appeared outside a fourth-floor hospital window.

“How did you even get here...?” she whispered.

She looked toward the window again, half expecting those strange eyes to appear once more.

Nothing.

Only the dark night stretched beyond the glass.

Lyra slowly lay back down.

Maybe she was imagining things.

Maybe the pain and exhaustion had affected her mind.

But deep down, she knew there was something different about that cat.

There was something familiar about it.

Something she couldn't explain.

She closed her eyes, but the image of its golden eyes remained in her thoughts.

Why does it keep appearing wherever I am?

And more importantly...

Why did it save me?

She remembered the moment at the cliff.

The cat touching its forehead to hers.

The strange warmth.

The brilliant light.

Then nothing.

Lyra pulled the blanket closer and stared at the ceiling.

“I'll figure it out tomorrow.”

She tried to push the thoughts away.

Slowly, exhaustion took over.

Her breathing became steady.

Her eyes grew heavier.

Eventually, Lyra fell asleep.

Outside the hospital window, the night remained perfectly still.

Far away from the hospital, beneath layers of earth and stone, something ancient stirred in the darkness.

For centuries, it had remained silent.

Buried deep beneath the ground.

Waiting.

And somewhere in that endless darkness, something sensed that the girl had awakened.

But it did not rise.

Not yet.