Nyrel walked slowly through the crowded streets of the city.
He moved through them like a shadow.
He looked thin.
Too thin for someone his age.
His clothes hung loosely around his body, making his already frail frame seem even smaller. Thick glasses rested on his nose, enlarging his green eyes behind the lenses and giving him a permanently tired appearance. His dark hair was unkempt, and there was something absent in his expression, as if his mind had never truly returned from wherever it had gone.
As he passed a small flower shop, something caught his attention.
He stopped.
Behind the large glass window stood an old woman at the counter. Flowers surrounded her from every side, roses, tulips, daisies, lilies, and dozens of others Nyrel could not name. Their colors filled the small shop so completely that it looked almost unreal compared to the dull streets outside.
The old woman noticed him through the window.
"What do you want, young man?" She asked with a gentle smile.
