Lyra jumped down the busy street. It just turned 7pm. This is when people gathered around the Moonlit Court and Marketplace.
Lyra was staring into the abyss while her sandals slapping lightly against the ground.
"Ugh.. why did i even forget to take my belongings.." She says while staring at her pouch. Inside, there's sweets that she secretly took earlier.
"It's because of that weird guy..! I didn't even have enough time to get my things" She sighed looking so regretful.
As she slowed down, her nose caught a mouth watering scent. She turned her head and spotted a small, lively restaurant with an old wooden sign swaying above its door.
"Chicken BakBak,?" She was curious and hungry at the same time. "Why are they naming their shop here so weird.." the scent was heavenly, but when she peeked closer, she wrinkled her nose.
"Is that chicken..? Wait.. Why does it look uncooked?"
The chicken looked... pale and not appetizing compared to the crispy fried chicken she always had in her modern world.
Lyra turned on her heel, ready to leave but then she heard someone shouting.
"Excuse me!" a man's voice called out.
She turned around and checked her surroundings.
She froze and looked at the man walking towards her that seems to be in a hurry to talk to her.
She glanced around, unsure if he was talking to her but there were no other people nearby.
"Were you the one who performed the violin earlier?" The man asked her.
Lyra tilted her head, frowning. Something about him felt off. She kept her expression blank and answered with a question instead.
"Why do you ask?"
Immediately the man expression changed and he looked at her clearly displeased with her answer.
"Can't you just answer it directly?" He snapped, pointing fingers in her face.
Lyra felt her patience thinning. She turned away, deciding to walk away and avoid getting attention. She wants to avoid causing a scene especially in a crowded place.
But before she could move, she felt a rough grab at her wrist.
The man grabbed her wrist roughly while saying some gibberish. This man is drunk. She thought to herself. Disgusting.
"Hey look, I'm trying not to choose violence today if you even care" She can feel her patience running out. She was trying to play nice this time but no matter where she went, people always seem to get chances to get into her nerves.
"Let go while I'm still being nice." she hissed, She was ready to pour all her anger to this man. She was two seconds away from ripping the man's hair out and dumping him into the nearest alley.
when all of a sudden, a young man, dressed in simple scholar robes, grabbed the drunk's wrist. Hiz gaze looked cold like he was looking through the drunk guy's soul.
With a swift, he freed Lyra's arm from the drunk man's hands and threw him into the ground.
The scholar man didn't say a word, but his presence alone was enough to make the bystanders shuffle nervously.
The drunk man stumbled from the ground, glaring at the scholar man, he then recognized the scholar's face.
"Oh! What a surprise!" the drunk man says loudly.
"It's the perfect little scholar! the one who dared to turn down a goddess marriage proposal, huh?!"
The crowd around them, which had already started to gather, started whispering and glancing at the Scholar.
He turned down a god?
Is that even allowed?
Who is he?!
Lyra herself was shocked with what she just heard. She didn't show any expression thinking it will only make the scholar uncomfortable.
Who is he?
He was clearly not just any ordinary scholar. The way he moved, the way the crowd practically froze at his presence... It all screamed that there was a lot more to him other than studying and reading books. She thought to herself while looking at him with curiosity.
Maybe... if I got closer to him, she said to herself, I wouldn't have to be alone anymore. Maybe i wouldn't have to keep looking over myself, wondering who might grab me next. Maybe i wouldn't have to be so afraid of this strange world.
The scholar didn't even glance at the crowd. He simply turned, dusted his hands together in a curt, as if brushing dirt off then he looked at Lyra.
"You alright?" he asked, his voice is low and steady.
Lyra, still a little stunned said
"Y-yeah.. I guess i am, tha-"
She opened her mouth to thank him but then she caught the looks of the crowd was giving her.
Who's that girl?
Is she his fiancée?
Another troublemaker?
Lyra sighed.
Great. Now I'm part of the drama.
The scholar glanced at her, noticing her uncomfortable expression. Without a word, he grabbed Lyra's wrist firmly, like he didn't really mean to touch her but didn't have a choice.
Lyra blinked in surprise, but before she could say anything, he was already pulling her, rushing through the crowd and away from the whispers and prying eyes.
Once they were far enough, in the bridge where they can no longer hear any murmurs, he then checked their surroundings and finally letting go of her wrist, stepping back slightly. He respected the distance between them.
"Be careful next time," he said, his voice calm but slightly stern.
Lyra dusted her dress awkwardly and gave him a small, grateful smile.
"Thank you," she said.
Then, feeling a little embarrassed, she added with a shrug,
"Too bad I can't even thank you properly... ugh.. i can't even believe i don't have any money."
The scholar chuckled under his breath, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
"It's fine. We'll surely meet again soon," he said with a little glint in his eye, "You can treat me to a meal then."
Lyra furrowed her brows in confusion, but quickly covered it up with a weird, polite smile.
"Sure... if we ever meet again.. i guess?" she mumbled awkwardly before turning her back and walking away.
The scholar watched her hurriedly leave and chuckled for a second watching her fixing her dress. Then for a second before sighing and making his way back to the crowd, one of the seller called him, holding up a small pouch.
"Hey! That lady from earlier forgot this!"
The scholar took the pouch, realizing it was Lyra's. Without thinking twice, he turned around and hurried off in the direction she's gone to.
Meanwhile, Lyra was walking then all of a sudden, she felt a sharp, burning pain in her upper back, just like it had at the marketplace before. Her legs trembled, and panic in her chest. She finds herself struggling to keep walking.
Not again... she thought desperately. Why now?
Her vision blurred, and just as her body was about to gave out and stumbled toward the ground, someone caught her.
A man's strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her up effortlessly before she hit the dirt.
It was Evan.
"I finally found you."
He had been following her ever since he saw her speaking with the scholar earlier in the bridge. Though he couldn't believe his eyes that the person he's seeing is really Lyra.
Evan then adjusted her into his arms, carrying her like she weighed nothing.
Just as he was about to leave, the scholar caught up and spotted them.
"Wait! Who are you? Why are you carrying her? What happened to her?" the scholar asked, full of suspicion showing in his eyes.
Why is he asking so many questions.. Evan thought to himself.
Evan stiffened. For a moment, he didn't know what to say then he blurted out some words without thinking, "I'm her husband."
The scholar stared at him, his eyes widen.
"...Oh" he muttered, not knowing how else to respond.
Awkwardly, he handed over the pouch. "She left this."
"Thanks." Evan said shortly, clutching Lyra tighter to him looking at the scholar man before walking away without another word.
Just as Evan was about to disappear down the path, the scholar called him again.
"Wait!"
Evan halted, barely glancing over his shoulder.
The scholar, still catching his breath, hesitated before asking,
"Her name... What's her name?"
Evan turned fully to face him this time, his silver eyes dark and unamused.
He gave a cold, almost mocking smirk.
"Why would you even ask a man for his wife's name?" he said, his voice low and firm, laced with warning.
Before the scholar could respond, Evan had already turned around and walked away, carrying Lyra in his arms as if she belonged nowhere else.
The scholar stood in place, watching them vanish. A hollow feeling curling in his chest that he didn't quite understand.