Lyra
The intoxicating smell of crushed herbs and alcohol infiltrated my senses, drawing me out of my drowsy state.
My eyes fluttered open, but I closed them again when a sharp pain cut through my head like a knife.
“I’m sorry. I should have closed that.” an unfamiliar voice floated towards me, closely followed by the sound of window blinds being drawn.
I force my eyelids apart, and the room around me slowly swims into focus.
The ceiling above me is different. That is the first thought that crosses my mind. The stone is too dark, and the smell around me carries none of the markers of home.
This is not Ashveil.
My memory comes back to me in pieces. Leaving Ashveil, the forest, and the arrow— followed by the intense burning in my thighs right before the darkness consumed me.
A
