Chapter 10: Lyra the Liar (and the Dice That Knew)
Chapter 10: That's Not Chicken's
[Somewhere in the smoke-drenched ruins of war.]
The fire crackled low, half-smothered by ash and wind.
The sky was bruised purple, clouds torn apart like the banners that once flew high over the battlefield.
A man named Jack leaned against a cracked stone wall, one leg stretched out, the other bent like it still didn't trust peace. Blood crusted his shoulder. Dried dirt streaked his jaw. But in his hand—
A tankard.
"To surviving the impossible," he grinned, half a roasted drumstick already in his mouth.
Across from him, a bearded soldier with crooked teeth and bandaged ribs—Bren—laughed so hard he choked on his drink.
"To Jack and Bren, brothers of dumb luck!" he wheezed.
The tankards clinked, messy and off-beat, but full of fire.
Their table—a crate that used to carry arrows.
Their chairs—upturned helmets, one still stained with someone else's blood.
Their feast—whatever they'd stolen, roasted, or barely burned less than everything else.
And yet—
"They thought they could kill us," Bren said, ripping into meat with his teeth.
"We're too stupid to die."
Jack chuckled. Took another massive bite.
His face lit in the glow of the flame—
Not heroic. Not pretty.
Just… real.
Like a man who had lost too much, won too little, and still found a reason to grin.
"After this?" he said. "I'm gonna sleep for three days straight."
"Nah," Bren said, raising his cup again. "After this, we find girlfriends, drink stronger, and eat meat so fatty it clogs our regrets."
"To clogged regrets."
They drank.
Laughed.
Chowed down like kings.
Jack bit into something—salted, juicy, perfect.
Smoked meat, still warm. He closed his eyes, savoring it.
Then—
THWIP.
CRACK.
The arrow came from nowhere. No warning. No mercy.
Straight into his throat.
His tankard slipped from his hand.
He jerked forward—gagging.
The world spun, spinning red.
Choke.
Gag.
Cough.
Dinner was warm. Loud. The kind of noise that made the walls feel full of life.
Lyra sat between her parents, rice puffed in her cheeks like a squirrel hoarding treasure. Levin sat across with his dad, bragging softly about tomorrow.
"I'll teach her the basics tomorrow," Kevin said, trying to sound cooler than his mismatched socks. "Start simple."
He added with a smirk, "But I'm not sure how well she'll do. She's kinda full of random energy… and not exactly the work-hard type. Hahaha."
"Hope not," Mom said, pouring soup. "That'd be a terrible first impression for a future daughter-in-law~"
Levin sputtered. "W-Wha—?!"
Lyra tilted her head. "What's a daughter-in-wall?"
Mom smirked. "Just means you two are awfully cute together."
Lyra frowned. "YES I AM, but Levin's not. He's just okay."
Levin slumped like a melting dumpling.
Grandpa snorted and pretended to be deaf as usual.
James sat at the end of the table, leg propped up on a small stool, still bandaged and stiff. A thick pillow tucked behind his back. The soup bowl was a little far, but he managed with Mom's help and a very long spoon.
He gave Lyra a thumbs-up like a true war veteran approving a new recruit.
Tap.
Lyra's ears perked.
Her dice—Dan—was next to her cup. Still. Innocent.
Then—
Hop.
Her eyes widened.
Hop.
He jumped again. Quiet. Intent.
Nobody else noticed yet.
Until he hopped onto the center plate.
Paused.
And—
CHOMP.
He bit the steak.
The table fell silent.
Grandpa's beard crooked thirty degrees mid-air.
Kevin dropped his spoon, prepared for something.
Levin's mouth hung open, mid-slurp.
Dan chewed loudly. Shamelessly.
Lyra whispered, "Dan…?"
Hop.
He launched onto the fish.
Bounced once.
Twice.
CHOMP.
Everyone stared.
COUGH. GACK. THWIP.
Dan bounced upward, spinning like a frantic bug.
"Dan!?"
"HUFF—ack—bones—why do fish always betray me—BLEH—"
Then—
PLOP.
He faceplanted straight into the soy sauce bowl.
Silence.
The sauce rippled gently.
Then—
"Huh? Where is this?
Why is everything… blood?
Am I in a pool of blood?!
WAIT—"
"…Bren? Where are you?" came a faint, dazed voice—only Lyra could hear.
"…Where'd you go…?"
"…BREEEEEN? Where are you…?"
Lyra blinked.
Face twisted. Angry.
"WHO'S BREEEEEEN?!" she shrieked.
Everyone jumped.
Mom: "Lyra?? What's wrong?"
Lyra: "DAN'S LOOKIN' FOR BREEN!! WHO IS THAT?? WHO WHO WHO WHO WHO??"
Dad (alarmed): "Who's Dan??"
Levin: "Wait—the dice can move??"
Lyra ignored them. She stood on her chair, grabbing the dripping cube like it owed her a lifetime explanation.
"DAN, YOU TRAITOR—WHO IS BREEN?!"
"Uuugh…" Dan's voice echoed in her head. "Huh? Lyra? What's wrong?"
"I had this weird dream. I met someone called Bren… then he gave me his meat… and then I don't remember anything."
"YOU HAD MEAT WITH SOMEONE ELSE?! BOY, YOU DON'T EAT MEAT WITH STRANGERS!"
"Why are you yelling?!"
"YOU BIT FISH AND YOU CRIED FOR BREEEEN!!"
"I was CHOKING!"
"CHOKE ON YOUR GUILT!"
Everyone else just watched her shout into a soy-sauce-soaked cube.
Levin leaned over to his dad. "...Is this part of learning magic?"
Kevin: "I don't think so."
Dad: "What's going on?"
Mom whispered, "I think your daughter is talking to a dice… and named it Dan…?"
Grandpa calmly picked up his tea. "Ohh."
Lyra kept shaking the cube.
"WHO IS BREEN?! WHO WHO WHO WHO WHO?!"
Dan groaned in her mind. "Please stop. I just came back from dying in a meat war."
"WAS HE YOUR BEST FRIEND? YOUR BROTHER? YOUR BOYFRIEND??"
"STOP INVENTING LABELS!"
"I HATE HIM!"
"You don't even know him!"
"I DON'T CARE!"
Mom slowly turned to Dad. "So… are we just accepting the dice is… alive?"
Dad replied, "Lyra Swift calm down."
Lyra sat down, arms crossed, glaring hard at the dice like it had betrayed her soul.
After calming herself down "yes dad?"
James: "So… who is this dice? He can talk?"
Lyra looked at the soy-soaked cube.
Took a breath.
Then she started talking.
Explained everything to them—
From the moment Dan started speaking to her,
To the day at the market,
And how she threw the dice.
To the "magic."
How she felt something weird inside her.
Then weak.
Then scared.
But not alone.
The room finally went quiet.
Not the awkward kind.
The listening kind.
Lyra held the dice close to her chest, like it might disappear if she didn't.
Dan, for once, said nothing.
Mom reached forward and gently brushed a strand of rice off Lyra's cheek.
"...You should've told us sooner."
"I thought you'd say I'm lying," Lyra mumbled.
"I probably would've," Kevin admitted, "since I caught you talking to squirrels more than once. Until, you know… the fish incident."
James leaned forward, wincing slightly as his bandaged leg shifted.
"So… when you threw him. That magic... that came from you?"
Lyra shook her head. "I dunno. It just… happened. Like he helped me do it. Like he protected us."
Levin scratched his head. "No wonder I thought that dice kept giving me weird stares…"
Grandpa finally put his teacup down.
"This is what they call a living artifact. Rare, but not unheard of. Some can talk. Some can move. Some do neither—but the power they hold is no joke."
Everyone looked at him.
He took a deep breath.
"And I've definitely never heard of a relic this... expressive."
Lyra blinked. "So… I'm not cursed? You're not taking him away, right?"
She was clearly more panicked about the second part—her favorite toy.
Grandpa looked at her. Then at Dan.
"Probably not," he said. "Do you feel... anything strange or uncomfortable?"
"Yes…"
Everyone tensed.
Grandpa continued, "What is it, Lyra?"
"I HATE Brennn," said Lyra.
Dan: "I hate fish."
Hahaha. She was still the same Lyra.
Everyone burst out laughing.
Then Grandpa's voice cut through the joy—calm, but firm.
"What happens here tonight stays between us. Especially you, Lyra—never tell anyone that Dan is something special. If word spreads... danger might come before you're ready."
Mom rolled her eyes. "Dad, you worry too much. She'll be fine. Don't tell me you've forgotten how, when she was two, she went around the market telling people her chicken's brownie was a meteor artifact? Or that cabbages could summon a genie? Literally every day.
And even now? She still goes around telling the villagers that the backyard squirrels can throw up gold.
Oh—and recently I overheard gossip about something called 'Justice in Pink' trying to recruit cabbages as soldiers.
I'm guessing that one's yours too, Lyra."
Everyone burst out laughing again.
Dan: "......"
Dan: "…You guys misunderstood something. That's not chicken's."
Lyra blinked.
She didn't get it.
"Wait," Lyra said suddenly. "Mom said this dice was a gift from Grandpa. Grandpa… where did you get it?"
Grandpa looked at James.
And—like once in a blue moon—James gave him a rare, strangely serious look.
Grandpa sighed.
"Let's leave that artifact conversation for when you're a little older."
"......."
Lyra glanced down at Dan.
He was still.
But she swore he looked… gloomy. Distant.
Like someone who'd heard this story too many times—
And already knew how it ends.
"A living artifact, huh…?"
"So I'm just an item…"
"Trapped here. Forever," Dan mumbled to himself.
Lyra didn't hear him.
But somehow… she tightened her grip around him anyway.
-------------------------------------------------------
Yes, Chapter 10 has two titles.
Why?
Because I couldn't decide—and honestly? Why not both? 😌
So now it's officially Double-Titled Chapter 10™. You're welcome.
🎉 We've officially hit the Chapter 10 milestone!
From here on out, I'll be posting two chapters per week, so buckle up and roll with it!
If you've been enjoying the ride, consider dropping a review or a 5-star rating.
They're basically mana potions for my soul—and they unlock bonus chaos in my brain.
Thanks for sticking with me this far.
You guys are the real MVPs.
👉 Angry Lyra cursing out Bren is now live on Patreon (Chapter 10 post)!
It's free to view—so go check it out~
----------------------------------------------------------