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Kiria
The same thing happened the next day. This time the cut was to her cheek, deep and horrible. Firian appeared again, transforming the Unreal into backgrounds to distract her. He offered her tarts and strawberries, took her to see glassblowers and to meet imagined versions of her past heroes. The statues in the Main became walking people she could talk to, lanterns around the Amiran Academy turned different colors, mirroring the ones along the wooden pathways of Shifra, the grassy plains of Enderin housed improbable animals, stars shone above, water below… And then she was left in her cell again, alone, and cold with the autumn and feverish terror.
Because of the pain, Kiria hadn’t slept, though she felt weak from blood loss. Thirsty too. Cool water going down her throat—she fant
