Nyxeria’s eyes fluttered open slowly, her body groaning in protest. It was an unfamiliar sensation—pain. In all her fifteen hundred plus years of life, she had never known such a crude, earthly discomfort. Pain was for mortals, a reminder of their frailty. But now, here she lay, her muscles stiff and aching from the impact. She curled her fingers, feeling the sharp pull in her tendons, every movement a strange, alien reminder of this world’s limitations. Is this what it means to be weak? she thought, an unfamiliar bitterness rising in her throat. For the first time, she felt… vulnerable. The noise of two older men talking slowly entered her consciousness.

“I know about the reward, but how are we going to convince the King, or anyone for that matter, that this girl is what landed here? They will think we have gone off the deep end!”

“Vern we can’t leave her either though…if we show them where we found her maybe they will be convinced!”

The two seemed to be bickering about a reward, but Nyxeria didn’t bother to listen further and sat up. The two men stopped arguing and looked shocked as Nyxeria stood up; her short frame barely made it up to their chests in terms of height.

“You two,” Nyxeria’s voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and cold, her finger pointing with an almost regal authority. “Tell me where I am, and make it quick. I have neither the time nor the patience for your hesitation.” Her crimson eyes narrowed

“Brother...” the younger one muttered, his voice trembling. “Her eyes… they’re not… normal. Is she an elf? She got the ears for it, but what kind of—"

“Shut up, you fool!” Vern hissed, elbowing him sharply in the ribs. He tried to keep his composure, but the unease was visible in his eyes. “Forgive him, milady. My brother doesn’t know when to keep quiet. We... uh... we’ve never seen eyes like yours before.” His gaze flickered nervously between her piercing crimson stare and the ground.

“Forgive me, milady, but... but you seem to be, uh... unclothed,” Vern stammered, the words fumbling out of his mouth as he dared not meet her gaze. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “P-perhaps you didn’t notice...”

Nyxeria glanced down at her exposed body, indifferent to the stares of the two men. With a snap of her fingers, the inky substance at her feet stirred. It responded to her will immediately, swirling up her legs in serpentine tendrils. The liquid was alive—an extension of her very essence, drawn from the shadows of her realm. It slithered and pulsed as it climbed her body, cold and smooth, its texture like silk woven from darkness. The tendrils twisted into the form of a gown, molding to her figure.

“Is that good enough?” she sneered.

“Now,” Nyxeria’s voice dropped, colder than before, each word measured and deliberate, “I do not make a habit of repeating myself. Speak quickly and plainly, or I’ll have little use for either of you.”

“Of course. Of course! My name is Vern and this oaf is my brother. We are from the local village. We found you laying here in the middle of the forest and thought we could help you.”

“Brother..what about the re—” the other man was cut off as Vern jabbed his brother in the gut to be quiet.

Nyxeria nodded as she thought about what to do first. These two locals didn’t matter much to her, but they would at least be useful to point her in the right direction. “I require clothing—something more befitting of my station,” She said, her eyes sweeping over the two men as though they were little more than servants. “And you will take me to the nearest city. Do this, and you will be compensated for your troubles. Fail...” She paused, letting the unspoken threat hang in the air, “and I’ll ensure your reward will be of a... different kind.”

“Leave it to us, milady!” Vern said, too eagerly, his voice betraying a mixture of fear and hope for a reward. “W-we can take you to the nearest town, no problem at all. If you’d allow me, I can assist you.” He extended his hand shakily

As Nyxeria ascended the incline of the crater, she couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling that washed over her. The vibrant greens of the forest clashed sharply with the dreary, shadowed realm she called home. A pang of longing tugged at her heart for the familiar gray curtain that constantly blanketed her home, shielding her from the harshness of vibrant colors she found here.

“Milady,” Vern began, choosing his words carefully, “you’re in the Kingdom of Oriaet, far to the edges of its borders. We’re a simple folk here, not much for visitors from... well, wherever you’ve come from.” He glanced sideways at his brother, who was staring dumbstruck at Nyxeria’s inky dress. “The capital... it’s at least a three-day ride from here, maybe longer depending on the roads. But there’s a local lord, Lord Garet. He could help... might even give you an audience if we introduce you properly.”

The men trailing her, Vern and his brother, seemed eager to assist, their words tumbling out in a bid to be of service. Vern's attempts at politeness were overshadowed by his own nervousness, emanating a palpable scent that nearly made her wrinkle her nose in distaste. Mortal odors were something she hadn't experienced firsthand, and the reek made her acutely aware of the foreignness of this realm.

The woods were much different from her home. The trees were filled to the brim with life and she could feel the untamed wild energies from many different deities filling the very air. It was both intoxicating and nauseating at the same time. Nyxeria figured her first goal would be to subjugate the local kingdom and enforce some form of worship to her father. The bright and shiny nature of this land would have to go first that was certain.

Her crimson eyes scanned the horizon as she emerged from the woods, the dying light of the sun casting elongated shadows across the landscape. A small village with wooden walls sprawled before her, a quaint settlement attached to a weathered keep with slightly sturdier defenses.

“Hemsberg is the nearest town. Lord Garet is who oversees this land.” Vern said, leaning closer to her ear than she cared for.

“Don’t get too comfortable with me once you show me to the leader you will be rewarded and go on your way” She responded not bothering to look back.

Nyxeria wasn’t particularly interested in mortals she never had been. Unfortunately, she was like her father in that way.

Based on her arrival she was certain it had alerted many people to her presence and therefore she needed to get a solid lay of the land as soon as possible.