An ally

Lyra allowed herself only a brief respite before forcing herself to continue. Otherwise, she feared she would never move again. Although staying hidden in the tree might provide some safety, it would do nothing to satisfy her thirst or hunger. Rubbing her arms for warmth, she stumbled onwards.

Lyra couldn't go on like this. After a few minutes she came across a small bush filled with lush, red berries. Unable to resist, she knelt down and began picking the fruit.

"Stop! What are you doing?" shouted a voice from behind her. Lyra rose to her feet and spun around in alarm, her arms instinctively folding across her chest. She was met by a young man in a simple brown robe running towards her. "Those are poisonberries!" he shouted. "Are you trying to kill yourself? One of those is enough to bring down a full grown moose!"

"I-I didn't know," Lyra rasped, her throat dry as sandpaper. She was utterly exhausted; it was all she could do just to remain on her feet. The young man, perhaps in his early twenties, quickly took stock of her condition. He obviously realized she was naked, but after a quick glance over her body, he blushed slightly and tried to focus on her face. That was already infinitely better than the leering stare she had come to expect.

"You look like you've run through a swamp after being chewed up and spat out by a dragon," he remarked. "Umm... one who decided to eat your clothes for some reason. Anyways, you look horrible." His eyes widened in alarm. "Umm... not as in ugly," he quickly added. "I'm sure you're quite... pretty once you are cleaned up." He stopped his rambling and took a deep breath. Reaching into his pouch, he took out a small flask. "Here, drink this."

Lyra didn't even hesitate. She quickly downed the liquid. It was cool and sweet going down her throat, and instantly her thirst and hunger pangs were gone. Her feet tingled, and the worst of her cuts seemed to close up. "What is this?" Lyra asked. "Who are you?"

"That was just a simple healing tonic," the man replied. "And I'm Alstar, a mage."

"Seriously?" Lyra scoffed. So far she had only met normal humans in normal human settlements. She could have been transported to medieval Europe. But magic wasn't real. Although that potion she just drank was pretty incredible. Alstar looked hurt, and Lyra instantly felt bad. He had helped her so much after all.

"Okay, fine. Apprentice mage," Alstar grumbled, misreading her intent. "I know I don't look like much. I haven't been able to afford a staff yet, and I'm still in brown robes. But I'll be testing for my red robes soon!"

"No, no, that's not what I meant! I'm definitely not in any position to judge someone for what they're wearing or what they have," Lyra said with a soft chuckle. "It's just that where I'm from, we don't have mages... or magic."

Alstar's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Oh, and where is that? Who are you? I didn't think there was anyone in all of Eldoria who hasn't at least heard of magic."

"I'm Lyra. I'm from - actually, I don't think it matters."

"Oh, it matters all right," Alstar said. But before he could elaborate, their conversation was interrupted.