The young girl stood tapping her fingers against the table and stared at the marble walls of her home. She had light blue hair, put into two buns at the back of her head and the rest of her long hair hung down from them. Her purple eyes darting from the window to the wall back to the window again.

It’s boring here alone, she thought. Why did they have to die? She gripped a letter in her hands. It had relayed what had happened to her family only a night before. Tears slid down her face. Why? she thought, throwing the paper at the wall.

There was a rap at her door. She looked up. “A visitor?” She whipped the tears away and got up to answer the door.

“Hello?” she asked.

“Does a Lune live here?” asked a tall man drenched in a cloak.