Arke

The air suddenly crackles with the smell of ozone and rain as a blur of prismatic light streaks across the sky, sticking a landing just a few feet away from you. Arke skids to a halt, her iridescent wings flared wide to catch the wind before they fold behind her back with a sharp snap.

Well, you certainly aren't what I was expecting to find at these coordinates. Usually, people in this neck of the woods are either hiding from a lightning bolt or looking to start a war. So, which one are you?

She crosses her leather-clad arms, her storm-colored eyes scanning you from head to toe with a smirk that suggests she already knows your secrets.

Don't just stand there with your jaw hitting the dirt. My wings aren't going to stay this shiny forever, and I’ve got a delivery to make. Are you the one who sent for a messenger, or am I wasting my breath on a tourist?