Dressing for the Ceremony

An Island Somewhere, Present Time

“Mia Persuma Inillium,” Niarthen murmured, pressing kisses into Lyric’s hair. “It is time to wake up.”

Lyric dragged herself from the depths of sleep, her body resistant, her eyes glued shut. She was just so comfortable. She muttered her complaint and burrowed into the warmth of Niarthen’s side, pressing her face into his skin and filling her lungs with the salty musk of him.

He laughed, his ribs shaking under her palm, and rolled into her. “Come, my Lyric. It is night, the moon has risen, and the guardians of the Sacred Waters wait for our arrival. Aeylira has brought us rank, and gifts for her new sister.”

Lyric groaned and forced herself to open her eyes, meeting Niarthen’s.

“Hello,” Niarthen grinned. His face was alight, and he exuded excitement. “Come on.” He rolled off the moss bed and held out his hands. “Come.”

Lyric let him lift her from the bed, but pulled back when he stepped out into the hallway. “I need to wee,” she told him.

“Of course,”