The Young Lady

Lyra awoke to the gentle sound of the waterfall cascading behind her. As she sat up slowly, she felt a slight dizziness but noticed that the pain in her body had diminished.

She glanced at her arms and hands, seeing that some of the wounds had already closed magically.

"Huh...?," she whispered, marveling at the unexpected recovery.

"I'm starting to lose my mind. Am I going crazy now?"

Glancing around, she saw that the cave was as dark as night. There wasn't any sign of life. It was as if the butterflies from last night had been a figment of her wild imagination.

"...Whatever, I need to start moving again," she muttered, trying to shake off her confusion.

She stepped through the waterfall's shimmering veil the same way she had entered the cave. The cold water refreshed her as she emerged.

The sight that greeted her was breathtaking—a serene river winding through a forest bathed in the warm hues of dawn.

The sun, just beginning to crest the horizon, cast a golden glow, making the water sparkle like liquid gold.

"It's such a beautiful place," she breathed, momentarily forgetting the turmoil that had plagued her since she was thrust into this unknown world.

A long sigh escaped her lips. "Yeah, I wish time could stop here," she whispered, losing herself in the tranquil beauty of the scene.

* * *

Following the water's flow, Lyra finally heard noises other than the sounds of nature. She found herself nearing a village at the edge of the forest. Lights were already starting to turn on in some houses as the sun began to set.

Pulling her hood down, she blended in swiftly, searching for an inn to stay the night. She spotted a small inn with a tavern on its first floor.

The place was bustling with people drinking and chatting, relieving their fatigue from the day's work.

Lyra walked inside and approached the counter. "I'd like a room for the night," she said, her voice steady but cautious.

The innkeeper, a stout man with a bushy beard, looked up from his ledger. "Four copper coins per night if you want to use the bathroom," he informed her.

She handed him the coins, and he gave her a key. "Your room's on the second floor, third door from the stairs. The bathroom's at the back of the first floor."

"Thank you," Lyra replied, taking the key and heading upstairs.

The room was small, with a bed, a bedside table, and a wooden chair, but it was better than nothing. She lay on the bed, taking a moment to rest before sitting up again.

"Okay. It's been days, and it looks like I can't go back to my original body. What should I do then here?" she pondered aloud.

Her new body was weaker and more vulnerable than her original one, and she needed money to survive. That was a crucial thing. 

Yeah, sure, money wasn't everything, but everything required money.

She opened the pouch she had taken from the thugs, counting the coins inside. There was one silver coin and forty-six copper coins—enough to last for a month or two, she estimated. She needed a job.

After putting the money back, she headed to the bathroom following the innkeeper's instructions. She found a tiny wooden tub filled with warm water waiting for her.

Steam rose invitingly, promising relief. She took off her oversized clothes and sank into the tub, the warmth seeping into her tired muscles.

"Ah... Feels so nice."

She let out a soft moan of pleasure, the tension melting away. The water felt refreshing, as if she hadn't bathed in years.

While washing, her mind swirled with thoughts of what type of job she could get. She looked at her body: pale, delicate skin with a slim frame.

"How about my face?" she wondered. Reaching into her robe, she pulled out a dagger and tilted the blade to catch her reflection.

"Holy shit," she exclaimed softly.

The young girl in the dagger's reflection was strikingly beautiful, with pale blue eyes and long, flowing silver hair. "It's quite my taste," she mused, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

After putting away the dagger and finishing her bath, she dressed quickly, concealing her face once more before heading to the tavern. She ordered a warm soup and found a secluded corner, her ears pricking up at the chatter around her, hoping to pick up useful snippets of information.

Her attention was drawn to a nearby table where a young woman looked visibly annoyed. A man sat too close to her, flirting despite her soft refusals.

Irritation bubbling up within her, Lyra picked up her bowl and strode over, setting it down on the table with a decisive thud.

"Oh, here you are. I thought you weren't coming," she said loudly, her voice pitched lower to sound more masculine.

The man looked up, startled. "Who the hell are you?"

Lyra smirked under her hood, leaning in closer. "I'm her friend, and she asked me to meet her here. Got a problem with that?"

The man grumbled something under his breath and reluctantly backed off. The young woman looked at Lyra with wide eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.

Lyra shrugged. "No problem. Just didn't like the way he was bothering you."

The woman smiled faintly. "I'm Giselle. And you are?"

"Lyra," she replied, sitting down across from her.

"For a second, I thought you were a man," Giselle said with a chuckle, taking another sip of her beer. Some strands of her silky red hair fell over her flushed face. "So you're a traveler? I've never saw you before."

"Kind of."

"Where's your next destination? If you don't mind me asking."

"Nearby town, maybe."

"Oh, you can come with me then. I used to live in a neighboring town. I can guide you around," Giselle offered.

"That's very kind of you," Lyra replied, appreciating the gesture.

Giselle began to share her story, her words slightly slurred from the beer. "Hmm... so, I came back here because... well, it's my birthplace. I needed to get away from the pressures of my life. Everything just felt too much, you know?"

Lyra nodded, listening intently while continuing to eat her soup.

"You know," Giselle continued, "sometimes I feel like I've lost myself. Like I'm just playing a role, even in my own life."

Lyra gave her a sympathetic look. "I understand. Sometimes, you need to step back to find yourself again."

Giselle's eyes welled up with tears. But suddenly, her head drooped, and she slumped over the table, unconscious from the drink. Lyra sighed, then looked around for the innkeeper.

"Excuse me," she called out. "Can you help me with my friend? She's had a bit too much to drink."

The innkeeper came over, shaking his head with a bemused expression. "Poor girl. Her room's just down the hall from yours. I'll help you get her there."

Together, they carried Giselle to her room. Lyra helped lay her down on the bed, pulling a blanket over her. As she turned to leave, Giselle clutched at her arm, tears streaming down her face again.

"Please don't leave me alone," she cried, her voice raw with emotion.

Lyra sighed, sitting down beside her. "Alright, I'll stay with you for a bit," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from Giselle's face. 

Did she need to sacrifice her sleep again tonight?