After a while, he heard the door to the cell open again. He looked up—one of the guards stood in the doorway. Without a word, he tossed two small bundles wrapped in gray cloth onto the ground, then pointed at the elf.
"Your new clothes," he said flatly, then looked at Alex. "And yours."
Without waiting for a reaction, he turned on his heel and left, slamming the heavy door shut behind him.
Elf woman rose slowly. With a hint of hesitation, she approached the bundles and carefully picked one up. She unfolded the cloth and examined it closely, a look of distaste spreading across her face.
"What is this even supposed to be?" she muttered irritably. "Some kind of gray rags. What an insult to my race..."
"My name's Lyra, by the way. And you?""Alex. Nice to meet you." He smiled, but she didn't answer.
She glanced at Alex, as if considering something, then turned her eyes back to the clothing.
"Turn around," she said in a tone that left no room for argument.
Alex blinked, momentarily thrown off.
"What?"
"I need to change into this," she repeated firmly, and for a brief second, a flicker of amusement danced in her eyes—quickly masked by her stern expression. "And don't even think about peeking."
"Ah, of course," Alex mumbled, hurriedly turning to face the opposite wall. He felt his cheeks burn, his heart pounding faster, and a storm of chaotic thoughts rushed through his mind.
Behind him, the fabric rustled, and a moment later he heard the soft sound of rags falling onto the stone floor. He clenched his fists, trying to chase away the images that stubbornly appeared in his imagination. The cell suddenly felt much smaller, and the silence much heavier. All he could hear was Lyra's quiet breathing, as if no other sound existed.
The elf let out a soft sigh. Alex, driven by an irresistible curiosity, dared to steal a quick glance over his shoulder.
Lyra stood in profile, allowing him a fleeting glimpse of her naked body. In the dim light of the cell, her skin glowed faintly, and the subtle lines of her hips and toned muscles seemed to reflect the light in a way that felt almost magical. Alex's heart surged, and blood pounded in his temples. He had never seen a woman like this before—so close, so real, with nothing to hide her.
Lyra turned her head, catching his gaze, and for a moment looked at him with mild amusement—but also with something else—perhaps a challenge, perhaps a provocation.
"I said turn around," she growled, raising an eyebrow. "Do I need to repeat myself?"
"Sorry," Alex muttered, feeling his entire face flush, all the way to his ears. He quickly averted his gaze, this time with determination and no hesitation.
He heard Lyra snort quietly—a short, nearly inaudible sound—but enough for Alex to feel both embarrassed and oddly happy.
"You can turn around now," she said after a moment, her voice cool and indifferent again, as if the previous moment had never happened.
He turned slowly. Lyra was now dressed in a simple gray tunic and fitted trousers, the same kind the guard had left. The clothes hugged her slim frame, accentuating her graceful figure, but revealed nothing more. She returned to her corner of the cell, sitting with her knees drawn to her chest, her indifferent gaze now fixed on Alex.
"Your turn," she said coldly, raising an eyebrow.
Alex swallowed hard, the heat of embarrassment returning. But after a moment, he gathered his courage and quickly stripped off his dirty, tattered clothes, left only in the cloth wrapped around his hips. He turned slightly to the side, trying to conceal his arousal. He noticed Lyra's lips twitch in an involuntary smile before she returned to her usual, stern expression—as if nothing had happened.
Alex hastily grabbed the gray garments and slipped them on—clothes identical to the ones she wore.
For a while, they sat in silence side by side, until Alex finally decided to break the uncomfortable stillness, mustering the courage to speak.
"Lyra..." he began uncertainly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you know anything more about this place? About the desert... anything that might help us?"
The elf remained silent for a few seconds, watching him from under half-lowered eyelids, as if judging whether he deserved an answer.
"This place, this desert," she finally said in a quiet yet firm voice, "is brutal and unfair. If you really want to survive, you'll have to learn to be like a shadow. Unseen, swift, and careful."
Alex slowly nodded, taking her words to heart. He knew she wouldn't say anything more—at least not now.
He leaned back against the cool, damp wall, closed his eyes, and tried to rest for a moment. His mind was still a mess, thoughts swirling chaotically one after another, but as he listened more carefully, he sensed something else—the calm, rhythmic breathing of Lyra.
And though they were still prisoners, though they had no idea what the next day would bring, Alex felt that in this strange, foreign world... he was no longer entirely alone.