𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕊𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕛𝕚𝕥𝕫𝕦 ~ L. Garmadon

2: The First Round

"Your room, Mistress Lyra," Sakura told Lyra, opening the deep purple door and turning on the lilac LED lights with a snap of her fingers.

Wow. I didn't realize Chen told them they could speak to us. He must want to impress the guests. 

Lyra thanked her friend, walked in, and closed the door behind her. She closed her eyes and breathed in the familiar scent of lavender and eucalyptus. It relaxed every muscle in her body. She felt completely at peace, as if everything was right in the world.

The room was entirely purple. The walls were a light shade of indigo, while the floor was made up of entirely dark purple carpet. Her bed was lavender, with a silver canopy frame and mauve curtains. The shades by the windows were also lavender, as well as the plush couch and the multiple cushioned armchairs. The walls were decorated with amethysts. It was the epitome of luxury, and Lyra loved it, though she did sometimes think she had too much space.

Of course, all she had to do was press the central amethyst button, and the platform underneath would take her down into her studio, but it wasn't the time for that. Instead, she laid down on her soft bed, relishing in the comfort of the blankets.

"I missed you," she murmured to them. She sounded absolutely insane, but sleeping in the booths at the Central restaurant had been very uncomfortable. Her neck would probably be sore for life.

Lyra then realized she hadn't even bothered to see who was in the room next to her. There'd only be one person, since her room was the farthest to the right. 

I really hope it isn't one of the ninja, she thought. Though I wouldn't put it past Father to arrange that.

She walked out onto the balcony, hoping the mystery fighter would be there. To her surprise, he actually was.

"Lloyd?" she asked, hating how quiet her voice became. 

The Green Ninja was leaning on the balcony, looking out toward the slowly setting sun with a calm expression. His freckles shone golden in the fading sunlight. He looked like he belonged in the cover of a romance novel. He turned to face her. Lyra's face turned red upon seeing his outfit. He was wearing a green muscle shirt, something she had never actually seen anyone wear in real life, simply because she rarely interacted with boys. It was very evident that he worked out often.

I never realized it made them look so...different. And not exactly in a bad way.

She averted her eyes, looking firmly at her feet.

"I never caught your name," he reminded her. "And how do you know mine?"

"Well, you're the Green Ninja," Lyra murmured, still avoiding eye contact. "Everyone knows your name."

"And yours is...?"

"Lyra," she said, finally looking up. She immediately regretted it because his eyes were so...

She didn't even have the words to describe them, and she was a poet. They were every shade of green imaginable, with so much kindness hidden behind, plus another emotion she didn't quite recognize. They were a meadow of lush, green grass, an ancient woodland forest, a field of half-grown plants, a cave of emeralds, a living embodiment of the northern lights Lyra so often painted. They mystified Lyra, and she subconsciously shifted forward to get a better look at him.

They reminded her of the spring, of the forest on the island. They were like the eastern side of the forest--her favourite side. Sparkling like sunlight filtering through leaves, they were easily the prettiest thing Lyra had ever seen. She'd love to gaze into them all day, to paint them over and over again until she had the image of them burned into her memory until she had every detail captured in all of its glory.