Ah...
A dull throb pulsed through his skull.
Cyris Neal sat up abruptly, wincing as he pressed his right hand to his forehead
"What happened... Where am I?"
He glanced around, his vision hazy. The narrow alley was deserted, cloaked in shadow and silence—forgotten by the world.
"An alleyway... Why does everything look so unfamiliar..."
He didn't notice the pool of blood spreading beneath him until the pain struck again—sharp, searing.
Ack!
A cry tore from his throat as a surge of unfamiliar memories crashed into his mind, each one more disorienting than the last.
-----------
"Brother?"
A familiar voice called out.
It was his sister—Rose Everhart, seventeen years old and barely 5'2" (158cm). Her blonde hair shimmered under the afternoon sun, and her violet eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"What happened? Why are you spacing out again?"
She leaned in closer with a playful smile, her hands tucked behind her back as she tilted her head.
"I'm fine," Alaric replied, his voice calm. "Just thinking about something.
Alaric Everhart—nineteen years old, 6'1" (185cm), with tousled black hair and amber eyes that seemed to hold more weight than they should—kept his gaze ahead.
"You're always thinking," Rose teased. "You're gonna give yourself wrinkles."
They strolled along the sidewalk, weaving through the light crowd. On the busy road nearby, cars passed in steady streams. Street vendors lined the edge of the pavement, shouting over one another in a chaotic symphony of salesmanship.
"Fresh fruits! Ripe and delicious! Cheapest in town!"
"Look at this fine jewelry! A treasure for your beloved!"
"Hotdoggies! Red hots! Hot diggity dogs!"
"Ice cream! Cool down with a cone! Summer special!"
Alaric glanced at the ice cream vendor, then turned to Rose.
"Want one?"
She beamed and immediately hooked her arm through his. "You know I do!" she said, tugging him toward the cart.