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08-15-2014, 06:37 AM

Lyra

Lyra comes from a land of war, where Kings fight against Kings with beasts of hell and bring death and doom to their people. In a world of violence and suffering, Lyra is a gentle being, who carries the fate of her people on her shoulders. She's an oracle with the power of precognition. She cannot speak, instead communicating by touch. When Lyra touches a person she can put images, ideas and feelings into their minds to communicate. She can even send feelings and emotions to a person to help change their moods, though that one was something she taught herself to do. She also has the ability to do the opposite, and read someone else (by seeing clips of memories or feeling their personal feelings) by touch through psychometry.

While time passes slower in her world than most others, she looks to be in her late teens or early twenties. She stands at 5'6" with a slender, soft and feminine build. Her hair is a deep red and her eyes are golden. Lyra always has a far off look in her eye, appearing as one who has seen and been through far too much for such a young and fragile female with more on her shoulders than one should ever have to deal with. Yet, she remains caring and compassionate, while wary of all others.

~~~*~~~*~~~

She was running down a stone paved walkway. Tears spilled over her cheeks and her bare feet thudded against the ground. She tripped, inhaling sharply at the fear of falling, but managed to stay on her feet, and kept going. Deep red hair blew back from her face as she ran and her silken Greek styled dress clung to her figure, the excess also flowing out behind her as she ran.

Lyra didn't dare look back. The sky was dark grey with black ominous clouds as far as the eye could see. The world here was cast in shades of doom. The sun never seemed to rise or set in this land, the dark skies only lightening and darkening at regular intervals.

She'd run all the way to the end of the path leading away from her prison; the King and War Lord's main fortress, his temple of torture and death. She came to the end and kept running, not stopping until she was sure she was out of sight of the watch towers, ducking into a narrow rocky pass where she stopped to catch her breath.

Lyra flattened her back against the rocky wall, gulping in air desperately. She had fresh bruises around one ankle, caused by a shackle. There were days old bruises on the other ankle, and both wrists. Her feet were cut now and bleeding, but she didn't even notice. Tears still streamed steadily down her cheeks, and she heard the hair raising roar of the beast sent in her search.

Her breath caught in her throat as a strangled cry tried to leave it. She covered her own mouth and began backing farther away from where she'd entered. Lyra wished she could be anywhere but here. A light from behind her caused her to turn around to see a large gate. She was certain that hadn't been there before. With the sounds of the heavy feet of the beast growing closer, Lyra ran through the open gate without a second thought.

Once inside, she glanced over her shoulder to see that the world she'd known was gone. Was she dead? She looked around her in wonder, as the steady stream of tears had finally begun to slow. She'd known there was an escape from her fate. Lyra had had a vision of her escape. It had ended with her in that rocky pass. She'd not seen the gate in her vision, nor this place though. Was this a land where her sight could not see?