Breathing Fyre

Chapter 4

"Words, papers, inks – Easy to get, easy to manipulate."

- The Diary of Akhara

CHAPTER FOUR

There was a ringing in Vyra's head, like bells clanging towards each other in a disturbing sound as an attempt to break her ears, her mind, her sanity. Her head was throbbing in pain, and her body was impossibly light, too light she can almost feel nothing.

"Her eyes are open." A female's voice said. Vyra blinked many times and she could've sworn she was blind if they didn't light a candle.

The bended wooden roof looked so old like it could crumble anytime. On the corners were dusts, broken clay of jars and sharp-edged woods, carved for what looked like weapons. The female touched Vyra's face, her hands cold and rough. Vyra winced at her touch, trying her best to tilt her head away from the female, and whoever is her company.

The princess could hear her own heartbeat going wild, and she was silently testing her body for any sign of injury or any possible damage. Moments ago, she was falling from the sky, the darkness of it overwhelming her and before the princess could register that she was truly falling, she blacked out and what came after, she doesn't know, could not remember, couldn't remember anything except the look on Zeieri before they were parted, the cries of their mother, and the pleading look on their father's face.

They were afraid, and pained, her twin most of all. She wondered when she would look at him again, with his fangs in an open grin, teasing, annoying and conspiring with their grandfather to make her tougher.

Vyra tried to move her fingers on her hands and toes on her feet. Her chest relaxed when she realized that she can still move, barely, but what matters is that she still can.

With blinking eyes, Vyra managed to adjust her sight into the dim lighting of this place which looks like a small cottage, no more than two people with her here are silently arguing on one corner. Her head ached and her body demands for more sleep but she just can't allow herself to do such, whoever these people are, the princess do not know them, and if her clothing isn't enough to scream that she was a foreign in their lands, then her hair and eyes would do the job, especially when she realized just how different she was from them.

The female was old, but her company, a man who was still young, looked at Vyra intently like she was some kind of prey for a moment, then his expression changed.

It took only seconds for her to gather up her strength to position herself into a stand, and she braced myself to prepare for an attack especially with the man's other hand holding a knife.

They looked scared. Sinking themselves into the corner, their eyes watchful, and their body was tense. The female had white hair and wrinkles on her face, wearing only a dirty sleeved-dress which looked browner now than what was supposed to be white.

Vyra shifted her gaze to the male, his eyes angry and tense but it's not a secret that he is afraid, and if he was faking bravery, his trembling hands gave it away.

"Who are you?" The princess spoke first, her voice surprisingly hoarse like she haven't drunk water in days.

The male looked at the female, and before Vyra could say any more words, she felt an impact on the back of her head, so hard that her vision became blurry before it went dark once more.

***

Slammed by a splash of cold water, Vyra's senses were awoken in an instance. A man was staring down at her, holding an empty bucket on one hand and smirking.