strangers

~kyara's pov~

I woke to the sound of voices, a warm yet shaky tone like that of an elderly man and the soft, melodic voice of a lady. Jolt! My heart raced as I sat up abruptly, glancing around the dimly lit interior of a wooden carriage. Where was I? What was happening? Where was Liam?

"It's alright now," the girl reassured me, her voice gentle as she approached. "He's fine. You're fine. Here, drink this. It'll help your ankle and give you strength."

I hesitated, eyeing the concoction she handed me. Its appearance was uninviting and murky, and the pungent aroma coming from the cup made my stomach churn.

"What's in this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, uncertainty written all over my face.

"It's medicine," she insisted, a slight smile encouraging me. With all the courage, I pinched my nose and swallowed the bitter liquid, grimacing at the taste. "Thank you," I murmured, both to her and the old man, who was quietly observing.

"We've got to move," the old man said, standing up with a creak of aged joints. My gaze fell upon Liam's still form in the corner of the carriage, and a wave of panic crashed over me. Rushing to his side, I reached out, fingers trembling as I touched his cool skin. Memories flooded my mind—frantic moments of chaos and fear from the previous night.

"He'll be alright," the girl said, placing a reassuring hand on my arm. "He'll be fine. But now we need to go; his wounds need tending, and you need rest."

"Do you know the way home?" the old man asked.

I shook my head, dread pooling in my stomach. The thought of returning to face Luther was unbearable, especially with Liam lying unconscious.

"That's alright. You can come with us. We'll take you to our village and help him," the man said matter-of-factly, his calm demeanour somewhat comforting amidst the turmoil.

"What's your name?" the girl asked, breaking the silence.

"My name's Kyra," I replied, finally meeting her curious gaze. "What about you?"