Lahnthean Aria

Mistake

Kiran anxiously raised her trembling hands in front of her, thinking it was a universal sign for "I surrender" or "I'm not a threat" since the gesture had been used several times in movies and shows she had watched growing up. "I...I come in peace!"

The young man's glowing silvery blue eyes narrowed.

Kiran gasped. He clearly looked more displeased than he did moments ago. He was speaking a different language so she wasn't sure how to tell him that her throat wasn't worthy of being slit. "Friend!" she exclaimed, praying to everything that was holy that the term wasn't a curse word in the young man's language. She gingerly pointed at her chest and tried to smile. "Me...Friend," she said, gesturing her left and right pointing fingers to meet side-by-side in front of her.

The young man then threw what seemed like a small, silver flask toward her. "Dirokhom," he ordered as the flask landed on her lap.

Kiran blinked confused at him for a moment before gingerly picking up the flask. "Y-you want me to drink this?"

"Balhiri!" the young man snapped.

Kiran quickly fumbled with the cork sealing the flask and downed its contents. She winced as a thick bitter brew filled her mouth. It drew a line down her throat like a strong liquor. Kiran coughed against the blade and cringed as the taste slowly faded away from her tongue.

"Who are you?" the young man asked as the blade tapped the bottom of her chin.

Kiran stared wide-eyed at him. "What did you say?!" The rude young man could speak her language?! Had he been making a fool of her this entire time? Or did the drink make her somehow understand him? She had read about potions that healed people and changed people's heights, but those were all in fantasy stories. It couldn't be real!

Then again, the young man's eyes didn't seem real either. It looked like glowing sapphires in the darkness of the night. Was she dreaming? Or was she really somehow transported into another world where potions saved people from grueling hours of learning a language?

"Do not waste my time!" the young man impatiently snapped, pressing the blade deeper against her throat and making her yelp in pain.

"Kiran!" she quickly answered. "M-my name is Kiran! Kiran Wedella. I'm a friend. I come in peace! I'm not going to hurt you."

"Obviously," the young man snorted.

Kiran stared incredulous at him. "Then why the hell are you holding a sword to my throat?!"

"Where is Alessa Dia?" the young man asked instead.

Kiran's eyes went wide. "Alessa!" The events before she lost consciousness rushed into her senses. "The sinkhole! My arm! Wait!" Kiran stared at the young man's arm again, remembering the limb that dragged her into the dark abyss that the cracks on the ground opened. "It was you!" she accused though frankly, she still wasn't sure if it was him since all she remembered the sensation of a hand painfully gripping her wrist and dragging her to her death.

"Answer my question!" the young man insisted, pressing the blade closer to her throat again. This time, the blade bit her skin and drew blood.

"Then take that blade away from me, kidnapper!" Kiran angrily snapped, ignoring the pain on her throat.

The young man bitterly clicked his tongue and withdrew his sword. "Talk!"

Kiran anxiously glanced around as her hand reached for the small wound on her neck. They were in the middle of a meadow with white flowers staring at the night sky. Giant stone pillars arranged in a circle surrounded them as if they were in a sacred place where religious rituals were performed. She had seen something similar in the comics she had read, especially the ones with fantasy parallel universes.