Flames [Slow Updates]

Chapter Nine

Nearly a week later, sick and tired, we plodded into Nezrof. "Halt," the head of the guards called. "We'll be camping here today. We should reach the shrine by tomorrow morning." I collapsed, exhausted, upon the snow. We'd been travelling for over a week, through sun and rain and fog. We'd crossed plains and lakes and forests. And finally, we were nearing our destination. 

Someone tossed me a rough blanket. I wrapped it around myself, closed my eyes, pressed my forehead into the frost. The cold seeped into my skin. My hair grew heavy and wet. I never wanted to move from my spot again.

Footsteps sounded all around me. The sound was enough to make my feet ache in sympathy. Almost everyone here, except for a few lucky cavalry, had to walk, all the way from Athnams. I'd marched all the way. It was a harrowing experience, and needless to say, I would never take the public transportation system for granted. You'd think, with the one prisoner (me), and nearly a hundred guards, they'd cart the prisoner around, maybe in a little cage on wheels or something. But no, I just walked, right in the centre of the entire group, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. 

"Get up." Someone jolted my shoulder.

I curled up, conserving my body heat. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay here are sleep, and possibly never wake up. I tried to pretend I was already asleep, deep, slow breathing and the like. The person grabbed my arm and began to drag me along. "Hey!"

The person, who I now recognised to be one of the guards near me in our marching formation, continued to drag me along. "Yeah, yeah, save it. The king would have our heads if anything happened to you before the Dragon Mother kills you. Sorry. I mean, before you meet the Dragon Mother. That would be very sad for me. No use In trying to use any of those fancy Dragon powers on me, no thank you. The king has ordered no trouble out of you. You are to not use fire, or any kind of magic." He pushed me into a smal tent, and I stood up, marveling at the sudden spike in the temperature. The ground was remarkably snow free, bare brown dirt and a few tufts of grass. This is where I had to spend the night.

I lifted up my soaking wet blanket. "Can I get another one?"

He looked at me for a heartbeat, then: "Naw,girly, that's yours. No replacements.Learn to live with it." Then the tent flap was shut and he was gone.

I couldn't sleep. So I spread the blanket over the ground, and sat down, propping myself up with my arms, looked at the cold stars through the thin fabric overhead. Though it was warmer than outside,it was still cold enough for my breath turn to wispy strands of fog. Was it just me or was there more hanging in the air than there usually was? I couldn't tell. By and by, I closed my eyes, and that was the last thing I remembered of that night.

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I woke the next morning to a mist-filled tent. I got up, rubbing sleep from my eyes. Pushing my lank, greasy hair our of my face, I was acutely aware I hadn't bathed in over a week. It was such a scary thought for a sixteen year old girl that, for a moment, it wiped everything else out of my head. Then I heard shuffling outside my tent, forcing me back to reality. I was in an alternate World, a Dragon, a prisoner. My fate apparently depended on a mythical creature, that, if it even existed, had no reason to help me. Greasy hair was the least of my worries. I pushed the tent flap open and stepped out. I took a few more steps, then someone ran to accost me. "What are you doing?" 

I looked at the soldier. "Stepping out of my tent," I answered, looking up at the sky. It was that time just before dawn, the part they said was the coldest and darkest. I could see why.The snow glinted a little under the two moons. A small fire was built up in the middle of the ring of tents. The guards awake were huddled around it. "When are we leaving?"