A faint rustling sound pulled Lyra from the depths of sleep.
Her body ached, a dull, heavy weight settling in her limbs as she stirred. The events of last night came rushing back—the cursed ones, the attack, the overwhelming darkness that had seeped into her skin. Her breathing quickened at the memory, but before she could fully panic, a soft voice broke through the silence.
"You're awake."
Lyra's eyes snapped open.
A girl, no older than thirteen, sat beside her. She had dark brown hair, tangled and unkempt, with wide, frightened eyes that seemed too old for her young face. Despite the exhaustion visible in her features, she managed a small smile.
"I was waiting for you to wake up," the girl said. "I… I wasn't sure if you would."
