Heir of the Dragon

Into the Fire

"Get up. We're leaving,"

His voice echoed around in my subconscious. I groaned, in spite of myself, and pulled my limbs up closer to me. It took half a moment longer for my mind to sputter awake and the gravity of life to settle on my shoulders once more. I sat up abruptly and orange spurted across my vision as I forced my senses into awareness. Grains of sand were nestled in the seams of the woven rug beneath my fingers and as my eyes readjusted, the sickly white light of the globes hanging from the ceiling sunk into focus once more. I blinked rapidly and began to stand in a small panic. He'd returned. He was back. He'd found me. I fumbled to my feet and had to brace my weight against the thick wooden bed-post.

The new bruises I'd won were gnawing at the skin on my arms and legs. As the new colors pulsing across my vision faded, I blearily watched him hurry from one end of the room to the other then back again, pulling things out from under his bed and throwing this and that into a pile that was quickly accumulating at the foot of his bed. I stood with my eyes locked on him, confused, and waiting for my body to wake up. He wasn't currently trying to kill me, or even threatening to do so. But why? I was unchained and all that remained of my bonds was the metal band around my ankle and a few haggard looking links.

I had spent the remainder of the day and every moment of last night trying to climb those cliffs of rock. I had tried everything known to man and yet they had still come out triumphant. I had only bruises and skinned joints to show for the battle I had waged. I had known, when I'd finally found my way through the stone hall (doorless I might add, except for the door out and the door into his room), and collapsed into a messy heap on his rug, that I would have to face him again. It was the only thing I despised more than my own failure, and yet here he was entirely ignoring my existence and running about like a cleaning maid. I wrinkled my nose and shied away as he walked past me to reach under his bed. Suppressing the shiver that ran up my spine at the smell of his blood, I suddenly realized he had spoken to me.

"Leaving?" I croaked. He stood from his crouched position and glanced at me. I recoiled as I recalled his other word. " ..We?" I coughed in disbelieve.

"No questions." He grunted at me as he held up a wrinkled shirt that was clearly too small to fit him, inspecting it. My mouth hung open slightly as I stared at him blankly. Then a thought hit me.

I swiveled around slowly and looked at the door. It was slightly ajar, apparently left unlocked. I watched his distracted inspection of more dusty articles of clothing over my shoulder. When he took no particular notice of me, I whipped around and took off toward the door, the metal around my ankle banging against the top of my foot. I hadn't gotten four steps beneath me before I felt him grab my upper arm and yank me around to face him. My blood skittered through my veins as I found our bodies a mere arms length apart and his eyes boring straight into mine.

"I really-" He visibly shuddered as he growled the word " don't like to touch you," His eyes flared "Don't force my hand."

I was breathing shakily but somehow found the ability to nod, silently begging him to go far, far away. He roughly yanked his arm away and pointedly avoided brushing against me as he stalked toward the door, the disgust obvious in his features. He locked it stiffly, shoved the key into a pocket in his dark grey trousers, and returned to the bed side. I caught my breath and silently thanked every deity I knew. Every moment I spent in his presence was life threatening, besides making my soul sick.

Biting my lip, I mentally noted how the smell of his blood soothed when his mood did, becoming almost bearable. I watched him pull out a pair of long dusty black boots, nearly like the ones he wore but smaller and tattered. He turned them about in his hands and I caught him cast a glance at my bare feet. He gave the boots a look of approval and set them on top a spread-out pair of small trousers.