Talk of War

An Island Somewhere, Present Time

Despite Niarthen’s assurances that there was nothing unusual about them walking around naked, Lyric couldn’t help but notice that a lot of people stared as they made their way through the streets, and a few of the older people drew the children inside the houses, as if frightened of them.

There was a market of a sort in the center of the town, and Niarthen paused by a stall displaying a range of items that were only vaguely familiar to Lyric as food. The language that they spoke itched Lyrics ears, the words sounded so similar that she felt that she should understand it, and yet she couldn’t.

The stall-keeper gestured to her hair, toying with the beads and shells braided into it. Niarthen sighed heavily and reached out to take Lyric’s hand. “Come one, Lyric,” he said leading her away from the stall. “I know someone who can help us.”

“We need help?” She asked nervously. “You said that it would be safe here…”

“We are not in danger,” he assured her,