Ysaryn tilted her head, listening to the girl within the room as Narda spoke. She hadn't moved from wherever she'd placed herself, but her breathing hadn't calmed, either. A sniffle. What could have been her hands running over her face, by the sudden but temporary muffling of her breathing.
It was Daryll's words that made her hold her breath. Ysaryn tilted her head the other way, making sure the girl was still in the room. But she exhaled noisily, sniffling again.
"It's not safe." Lyta said, far more quietly. "I-I'm not safe."
"We are to take you to safety." Ysaryn reminded her, glancing to Narda. "Narda and Daryll will-"
"No!" Lyta shouted again. "I'm not safe f-for you."
That gave Ysaryn a pause. Her feet planted, she turned to eye the girl's mother and step-father questioningly.
The latter of the two nodded, gesturing to his wife's face. "She hurt her mother."
"She didn't mean it!" Lorraine hissed at her spouse, her dark brown eyes staring up the stairs at the trio that spoke to her only child. "You can't take her over an accident!"
Ignoring the mother's arguing, Ysaryn turned back toward the door. "Lyta?" She called, and she heard a foot scrape against the wooden floor. Like the girl was drawing herself into a corner. "We fight many things. Elf with teeth of shark. Mutant man-dog. Dragon." She glanced to Daryll and shrugged, as if to say 'she won't know that's a lie', before she stepped toward the door, her hand on the knob. "We are not afraid of you. You will not harm us. Okay? We are to come in? Just to make sure you are safe? I know you bleed."
Silence met her. Lyta didn't move, didn't answer. Still breathed, at least. So Ysaryn turned the knob, finding it unlocked, and pushed the door open.
The room was a mess. The window panes were cracked, broken glass, feather, and ceramic covered the floor. The bed was whole, but the mattress askew and partly on the floor, the blankets and pillows in tatters, mingling with what could have been an entire closet on the floor.
And Lyta.
She was tucked into the wall, her small frame tucked as far into the corner as she could get. Her hair was ragged and knotted, her clothing -a plain maroon tunic and tan trousers- were stained in sweat. Her face, half hidden behind her hands, betrayed that she hadn't slept in days, and that she'd been crying. So pale, her large brown eyes wide as she stared at them.
The source of the blood was her foot; having stepped on one of the many broken shards that covered her room, Lyta's left a trail around the room. Every place she'd set her left foot was marked in a smudge of drying blood.
Ysaryn put on what she hoped wouldn't be a terrifying smile for an already terrifying girl who had never seen an elf before. "I am Ysaryn." She greeted, stepping inside.
But the moment she moved, Lyta flinched. "Don't come any-"
Many of the shards on the floor shifted, shooting outward with Lyta as the center point. She screamed as Ysaryn raised her arms to shield her face, twisting to put her back to the onslaught of assailants. It was quick, the pieces falling quickly and lifelessly to the floor once they'd bounced off the wall or the three visitors. Lyta buried her face, sobbing. "I'm sorry..." She choked.
"Whoa." Ysaryn said, unfolding her arms and facing the girl again.
Nothing answered.
No voice.
No music.
No rolling, desert dunes.
Nothing.
Until, in Kire's mind, a world gate appeared.
Not quite like the one created by the Gemini and the Empress, but more precise. Ethereal, almost. It opened across the sky, visible through the trees, its mouth pointing downward toward the earth.
From it, poured a dragon.
It was as if it was made of glass, or being looked upon through a reflection. Its image wavered and warped as it dove from the gate and into the sky, its long body twisting and arching as it took in the new surroundings. Its wings sent an inaudible boom through the air as it worked to stay airborne. Its long, reptilian body glittered brilliantly, up until the last scales on its tail. The dragon turned coarse, soaring away and into the empty sky before it was gone from sight. The gate began to close, slowly and gently, without a sound. But before it could close completely, a flare of light fell.
From where the gate, now closed and vanished, the ball of holy, dazzling light fell at a speed dangerously faster than the dragon had soared. Straight towards the earth, until it shifted its shape. Like the dragon had used his wings to fly, so, too, did the flare produce its own. Fiery wings spread, slowing its descent, though it still struggled, like a juvenile bird falling from the nest before it was ready.
As it drew close to the earth, the ground rose to meet it, cradling the falling star to soften its landing, turning itself to a soft, shifting sand that grew until the surrounding area became nothing but an endless sea of golden sands. As the ground settled, the star resting, a wind blew outward, meeting Kire with a breath of hot air that smelled of fire and scorched earth, before the vision left her.