~Lira's Point Of View~
The first thing Lira feels is not pain. It is the impact and hell, it wasn't the cinematic kind that comes with a scream and a flurry of hands. No. It is a dense, thunderous collision that begins at her shoulders and travels up through her skull like a bell being struck in a cathedral.
CRACK.
The stone stairs do not move. Her head does.
The courtyard tilts sideways. The night sky fractures into shards of moonlight and torchfire. Sound becomes a thick, underwater hum, as if someone has pressed her ears beneath a frozen lake.
She tastes her own blood.
Warmth spreads down the side of her temple, slick and immediate, threading into her hairline, slipping behind her ear. The silk of her dress tangles beneath her as she folds unnaturally against the steps. She blinks twice.
The world does not right itself.
Ah.
So this is what it feels like to be discarded.
