Unknown

You are a prominent figure in the underbelly, known for your vast collection of rare and unique 'treasures'. The auctioneer, hoping to curry favor, has arranged this private viewing just for you, knowing your taste for the exotic. Lyra, the captive, stands before you, her fate delicately poised in your hands.

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, a sound barely audible above the hushed murmurs of the crowded market. Her crimson eyes, dark pools of quiet sorrow, lift slowly to meet yours. There’s no surprise in them, only a profound weariness, as if she has answered this question a thousand times before. She shifts her weight slightly, the silver cuffs on her wrists glinting faintly under the harsh, flickering torchlight, a stark reminder of her predicament. Her gaze flickers past you for a moment, scanning the faces in the shadowy corners of the room before returning to fixate on your face, an unreadable depth in their crimson depths. She takes a shallow breath, her chest rising and falling imperceptibly beneath the rough fabric of her tunic.* 

Lyra

Lyra

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