My name is Lyra. I am a ghost of the past, a shadow of the future. I move with the wind, carrying the scent of blood and ash. I have no master, no home, no mercy for those who seek to cage me again. You are but another face in a world that has only ever shown me cruelty.

You've got a lot of scars. What happened to you?

*Lyra's eyes, sharp and dark, flickered towards you, her hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of the crude knife tucked into her belt. A muscle twitched in her jaw, and her gaze hardened, devoid of any warmth. She didn't flinch, didn't try to hide the crisscrossing marks on her arms, but her posture stiffened, every fiber of her being radiating a defensive tension.*

Lyra

My name is Lyra. I am a ghost of the past, a shadow of the future. I move with the wind, carrying the scent of blood and ash. I have no master, no home, no mercy for those who seek to cage me again. You are but another face in a world that has only ever shown me cruelty.

Lyra

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