<span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-style: italic">Kyia</span></span><br/><br/>Dusk was slowly melting into the grassy landscape around Kyianna Phoenix's secluded countryside home. She looked up to the sky and breathed a happy sigh. Her hands were covered in paint and her clothes were dirty, but she couldn't care less. Today was the day. She would meet the messengers and finally come to understand the baffling situation. She could have wasted time being nervous, but that wouldn't have been any fun. Brushing off her clothes, Kyia began to clean up her yard. She had been outside enjoying the sunshine and painting an abstract depiction using a mixture of different â€œcoolâ€ colours. The paint was now splashed on the grass from the bit of splatter-painting she'd done.<br/><br/>Kyia made quick work of picking up the cans and tubes of paint scattered across the lawn and the bench of her low porch. When she had gathered all of the paint containers, Kyia walked up the stairs with her arms wrapped around the items to the door of her ranch-style home. The siding on the house was almost slate-gray, the pillars between the deck and overhanging roof made of gray-black fieldstone. The trim around the doors and windows was white.<br/><br/>Using her hip, Kyia slid the glass door open and stepped inside. The house was dim; no lights were on. Carefully but almost clumsily, she walked to the kitchen and set the paint cans down on the island table, the top of which was black marble veined with white. Socrates, her large wolf-dog hybrid, was alerted by the sounds of her arrival and padded up to greet his master. With doglike awkwardness, he shoved his head into her legs and begged for attention. Kyia obliged, petted the pooch. His pink tongue flopped out of his mouth and his dark eyes glittered with jubilation. Kyia wondered for a moment why it was thought that animals couldn't reach nirvana when dogs seemed to always be in a state of complete bliss.<br/><br/>Not pondering the philosophical side of life any longer, Kyia made her way back outside to collect the rest of the art utensils. The door was left open and Socrates followed. Kyia briskly picked up the brushes in one hand and the drying canvas in the other. Socrates bounced along at her feet the whole time. Excited, he ran a distance from her, lowered himself down in a playful stance, then ran back to his owner. Kyia giggled at his enthusiasm before she ascended the two steps of her fieldstone porch. She walked into the door and made sure Socrates had entered before she slid the door closed. Kyia placed the canvas and paintbrushes on the island table, slinked over to the side with the stainless steel sink. She twisted the handle to turn the warm water on. She produced a dot of soap from the dispenser next to the neck of the sink and washed her hands thoroughly until all the paint streamed off in the bubbly water that pooled in a colourful puddle before being washed down the drain.<br/><br/>After Kyia dried her hands on the retro-patterned towel, she picked up the canvas she had just finished painting. She studied it closely with a bright smile on her face. A purple-and-white cloudy background was splattered with blue and green paint, the top layer being thin white circles outlined in a thinner still black silhouette. She was particularly proud of it. Knowing she had to hurry, though, Kyia put the painting back down and walked into the hallway to her right. Down the corridor she found her bedroom and entered. She closed the door behind her. Socrates had followed her and lay sprawled out on her bed. The dog took up almost the whole mattress. The room was painted black with abstract orange, green, and blue rounded and hollow squares scattered about to give the dark room a splash of colour.<br/><br/>Kyia shook her head happily at her canine companion and turned to her closet. Before she chose anything, she removed her current attire quickly. She walked to the cabinet at the end of her queen-sized bed and pulled open a drawer. She took out a pair of black feminine boxers and a dark gray bra. Kyia pulled the boxers on first then draped the bra around her shoulders and fastened the front snap. Underwear on, she returned to the closet and picked out a black tank top and a pair of ripped blue jeans. The clothes fit snugly. After she got dressed, Kyia looked in the mirror. Her black-and-blonde hair fell as it usually did, slightly messed and mostly straight. The garments she'd chosen fit both her body and personality nicely. Her butterfly necklace still sparkled around her neck. She thought she looked alright. She brushed her hair a bit, though. Even if she didn't look like job-interview material, at least she looked like herself. Kyia didn't much care about first impressions being good, just about them being<span style="font-style: italic">correct</span>.<br/><br/>Socrates made a low growling noise from the bed and when Kyia looked, he let out a quiet bark. Kyia smiled at her dog and jumped on the mattress with him. She tackled him lightly and rubbed his head roughly. The dog chuffed and wailed in playful protest while pawing at the small girl roughhousing him. Kyia giggled, patted Socrates again, stood up. She looked at the clock on her wall, a sable analog with roman numerals. It was almost 7:15pm, almost time for darkness to begin creeping across the peaceful meadow-like landscape. Damn, time to go.<br/><br/>Kyia walked out of the room, left the door open. She let Socrates wander the house while she was gone. When the dog was lonely, he liked to lay on his master's bed. He was comforted by the familiar scent.<br/><br/>Once Kyia was in the kitchen again, she patted her pockets and thought about anything she might need. Her cell phone was on the nightstand in her roomâ€”she left it there after deciding she wouldn't need it. She had already called her friends, ex colleagues, anyone who might need to contact her. She informed them that she would be taking a â€œvacationâ€, and thus wouldn't be home. A close friend, a red-headed awkward man named Connor would show up the next morning to feed Socrates and check on the house. Lucky for Kyia, her friends were gullible and didn't ask many questions. â€œHope you meet some smexy guys out there,â€ was all Connor had told her after finding out about her vacation. In response, Kyia had giggled, shook her head, and told him that she wished him the exact same.<br/><br/>Nothing forgotten, Kyia saluted Socrates playfully and walked out the door. She had a bit of a walk ahead of her. She slipped her hands into her pockets and jumped off the porch with her attention directed to the watercolour sky. The evening was turning out to be beautiful and Kyia smiled. The golden-orange sunlight poured down on the grass and shrubbery as Kyia walked through her large lawn and back into the green hills.<br/><br/>The thought of meeting the messengers was making Kyia more nervous with every step she took toward the rendezvous spot. The adrenaline made her a little jittery but she ignored it in favour of more pressing emotions. Emotions like worry. What was this whole war about? Who started the fighting? How close were they to the danger? And how close were they to the situation going critical?<br/><br/>Those would all be answered soon, Kyia assured herself. She finally reached the place and looked around. Nothing. No one. She looked up to the sky. Same story. At least she wasn't late. Kyia sat down on the hill and relaxed. The messengers should show up soon and let her in on the situation. For now, though, she could clear her mind and chill. The heat was slowly seeping out of the air as the sun sank further below the bluffs in the distance. It was almost night. The first few stars began to glitter in the rapidly-darkening sky and Kyia identified them as she saw them. She grinned to herself and laughed.<br/><br/>â€œWow, I really am a dork,â€ she told herself with a lighthearted chuckle.