LYANNA
Like a wounded animal, the frightened man scurried away from her, analyzing her with wide eyes. Thankfully it didn’t take long for him to realize that Lyanna did not mean any harm to him, quite the contrary, she wanted to help. She took her stance and called out in the opposite direction for whomever or whatever lie there to show itself, a feeling of confidence came when the young man from before stood at her side brandishing a weapon of his own. However, that feeling soon faded once Lyanna noticed that he wielded a sword still sheathed in it’s scabbard. Granted, it did appear a touch more imposing than her own broken blade, but a sheathed sword was not going to do much better by comparison. As if to salt the fleeting feeling, the young man appeared unsure, "Say... you know what you're doing right?" he asked sheepishly. ‘I hope so…’ Lyanna thought yet did not voice it, she knew that if she responded with uncertainty it would unnerve the lad more than he already is. Instead, she glanced in his direction and gave him a confident nod with a slight smile on her sunken visage. This feeling… the feeling of standing side-by-side with someone, armed and ready in anticipation for danger felt awfully familiar to her. As familiar as breathing, almost. Her vision flashed and her senses left her, for a small, fleeting moment she was elsewhere, adopting the same stance, accompanied by a number of men on each side, all armored and armed in a similar fashion. The one to her right was distinguishably younger and threw he an uneasy smile with a nod, the same that she just gave to the silvery haired man whose image melded into the soldier’s in the next moment.
What was that? A flash from a different time? A different life? The memory felt so….distant….like it didn’t really happen and was all just in her head. Just what happened to her exactly? But memories of a time long past would have to wait as a new person made its presence noted. This one was another man, dressed in some tattered yet still distinguishably decorated flowing robes. His features appeared fine and almost feminine, his eyes had a faint shine to them and his stance boosted confidence.
“I, Xega of Xir, deign to show myself” he spoke, with the same attitude and tone befitting of a man of high birth.
“Now name thy own self.”
It almost sounded as a demand rather than a request, yet the tone of his voice, the stance he adopted and the air of nobility about him sent more feelings of familiarity through her, as if she had interacted with his kind more often than she thought. However, instead of the comforting feeling this one sent slight jolts of tension through her muscles, why she did not know. For now, she was content with knowing that this person came with no ill will, this made her relax even if just a bit. What was it he said? His name was Xega. Of Xir? That name sounded familiar… Xir..Xir… Ah, yes! Xir was another kingdom, a place where magic existed and magi wielded its powers, if she was not mistaken. Recalling this made her cautious of the robed man again, just because he appeared empty handed does not mean he was harmless if he was indeed a mage. Lyanna didn’t recall ever having confronted sorcery before, and while not being afraid she would prefer it not come to that.
“I am Lyanna of Badarium.” she responded “and this is…” she stopped. Only now realizing that she had no idea who the silvery haired man besides her was. “I…I apologize, I did not catch your name…”
Once the introductions were made and it became clear that none of them had any hostile intentions towards one or another, Lyanna dropped he guard and sheathed her broken sword at her side, approaching Xega with Edoric by her side. Glancing around she couldn’t see anyone else, perhaps they were the only ones here? More importantly, where was here? And what exactly happened to them? She cleared her throat, slightly, and the addressed Xega “Wise magus, do you know what is happening here? Are we the only ones of…” she hesitated before continuing “…sane mind?” the word was weakly uttered. As if Lyanna didn’t believe the meaning behind it. Who could blame her? Recalling the final moments of your apparent death and then waking up in this place? It would make the most learned of men question their own mental stability.