The Son Of The Dragons

The Prison

A few days later...

Zulah was miserable. His whole body ached and he had sore spots and scratches all over. The journey back to Kriyiik was long and painful. Frocknar had him walk the entire way, which wouldn't have been so bad had he not taken away Zulah's shoes. Every night, the group made camp, and Zulah was given a few minutes' respite before Frocknar would come and taunt him, irritate him. He didn't hurt Zulah as much during that time, but while they walked, him and his soldiers kept tripping Zulah or 'accidentally' hit him with the handle of a spear. He was miserable and in pain. Not a good way to be.

They had taken him and thrown him in the farthest cell away from the light, leaving him there and bringing him food three times a day. It was now his eighth or ninth day in the cell, and he was beginning to get really bored. The cell was bare: the only furniture was two hard bunks for sleeping, with thin, threadbare blankets over them. At the back was a tiny barred window, looking out over a back alley. The cell's walls were made entirely out of stone. The gate was just that: a barred gate that locked with the key the warden carried around his neck. Inescapable.

His only visitor in all his time there had been Frocknar, and then he only came to taunt Zulah. Zulah presumed no one had been told of his return, otherwise Heimik would've come and visited him as soon as possible. Bored out of his mind, he decided to question Frocknar about the happenings in the village. Frocknar arrived right on time to taunt Zulah. This time, he was eating some kind of delicious smelling cake. "Oh Zulah you should taste this! It's amazing! I have never eaten such a wonderful tasting thing in my life!" Zulah just yawned, pretending not to be interested. Frocknar stopped eating. "You know what, it's so tasty, I don't want to spoil the taste by eating too much, so I think I'll just throw this away." He turned around and started breaking the cake into smaller pieces and throwing them out of the window. He stopped and turned to Zulah. "You want to taste some? Here." He broke of a tiny piece, about as big as Zulah's thumbnail, and offered it to Zulah. Zulah grabbed it before Frocknar could change his mind and ate it. "Ahh that tastes good!" he thought to himself. "Hey Frocknar, a little bit more please?" He asked Frocknar through the gate.

Frocknar stopped throwing the pieces away and turned to Zulah. "You know what..." he began. Zulah's eyes started lighting up. "...no. I think the alley deserves it more than you." With that, he threw the entire cake out of the window. Zulah sat there with a shocked expression. He recovered himself quickly though, and decided to start pressuring Frocknar for information. "So Frocknar." He began. Frocknar eyed him suspiciously. "Don't think I'm a retard." Frocknar interrupted him. "I won't give away any information." Zulah sat back and feigned a shocked expression. "I would never pry for information out of you! You're far too clever!" he said, his last words laced with sarcasm. Frocknar didn't hear it or mistook it for admiration, because he smiled. "What an ego," Zulah thought to himself. "And still dumb as a brick."

"As I was saying," Zulah continued, "or rather, asking..." He paused. "How is it with you and Xiriya these days?" He wanted to mock Frocknar because he knew Xiriya would never fall for a brick like him. Frocknar stopped smiling. His expression became sad and pained. "Xiriya died about a week ago. She was killed by a wolf while out hunting."

Zulah froze up. His smile turned into a frown, and then he too felt the pain. "H...how did it happen?" He asked, his chest feeling like it got hit with a log. Xiriya hadn't been his friend, but she was the only person his age in the village that ever said something to him that wasn't out of animosity. Frocknar's giant body was shaking. At first, Zulah thought he was crying. Then he heard a shriek of laughter being torn from Frocknar. He started laughing out loud. "Got you, idiot!" he laughed, and laughed even harder when he saw Zulah's enraged face. "Outsmarted by a brick" Zulah scowled to himself. "How flattering."

Frocknar finally stopped laughing. "She chose a path as Mage. They sent her of to some village to be trained." Frocknar abruptly stopped speaking. "What are you doing?" he asked, suddenly suspicious. Zulah frowned. "I'm uhh...talking to you...I guess." Frocknar kept looking at Zulah like he was poisonous. Then he abruptly turned and stalked away. Just before he left, he looked over his shoulder, and yelled. "You're going to have company soon! Some assassin or something. He's being trialled as we speak!" With that he walked out and slammed the door.

"An assassin huh," Zulah thought. "I wanted to have company, but an assassin?!" Sighing to himself, he went and lay on his bunk. He wondered where Xiriya was now. If she left the village for good and he met her, he would try to befriend her. Sighing to himself, he wriggled into a more comfortable position. Soon after, he fell asleep, because there wasn't anything else to do.

Zulah was woken by the clanging of the gates of his cell and an indignant voice shouting, "Hands off, you oaf!" He pretended he was still asleep, and heard the guards forcing his new cellmate into the cell. The guy sighed deeply to himself, and then went to sit on the open bunk. He sighed again, and then lay back, seemingly waiting for Zulah to awake. Zulah smiled silently to himself, thinking that he will now be able to study the guy unnoticed, when the guy said "I know you're awake." Zulah frowned and sat upright. "How did you know that?" He demanded. The guy laughed heartily. It was a light, humorous laugh, unlike what you would expect from an assassin. He had a mischievous light in his eyes, high cheekbones and long, light brown hair. "Your breathing." He replied matter of factly. "It was shallow and controlled, like someone that doesn't want someone else to know he's there. A sleeping person breathes deep and evenly."

Zulah was impressed. "Impressive" he said. The guy shrugged and leaned back. "Nah, not really. It's one of the basic things in my trade." Zulah stood up and offered his hand to the assassin. "My name is Zulah. Zulah Suleyk." The assassin look at the hand with a startled expression, then smiled warmly and took it. "Eren Moore" he said. Zulah sat back down. "So..." he began. "What brings you to my humble abode?" he said, gesturing around their cell as if it was his home. Which it was. The assassin laughed. "Apparently, I tried to murder someone." He rubbed his head as if he was trying to remember something.

Zulah frowned. "You don't sound very sure." Eren smiled ruefully. "I'm not. I can't remember much of anything. I think I lost bits of my memory after they clubbed me. In court, they told me that I tried to murder some guy's daughter or something." He rubbed his head again. "I can't remember how I got here, what I did or anything. I remember my name and basic stuff like that. That's all." He smiled apologetically at Zulah. "Sorry."

Zulah frowned. "Can you remember where you're from?" he asked. Eren frowned and thought hard, trying to recall. "It's someplace called Str... Str-something. I can't quite remember." Zulah's face lighted up. "Is it Struven, by any chance?" he asked excitedly. Eren smiled broadly. "That's it! Struven! My hometown!" He looked at Zulah, who was now pacing the cell, back and forth. "What are you doing?" Eren asked curiously. Zulah looked at him and smiled. "As soon as we escape, you will accompany me to Struven," he announced. Eren smiled. "Suuuuuure... just one problem..." he paused. Zulah frowned. "What?" Zulah asked. Eren continued. "In case you haven't noticed, we're not getting out of here soon!" Zulah frowned. "Oh, yeah. But...I thought since you are an assassin, you could like, open the gate somehow?" he said hopefully. To his surprise, Eren laughed. "I'm not really an assassin. I'm something quite else actually. But to the point, opening the gate is no problem, it's what we do after that is." At this, Zulah shrugged. "No problem, all of our stuff is stored in the warden's office. They aren't allowed to touch the prsioners' stuff." We can just get them and then, as old soap used to say, we get the "hellattahere".

Eren smiled. "Then we're set. We only need to find me a hairpin, and then we'll be free." Zulah gasped. "A hairpin? Where the hell do you think we'll find a hairpin in this dump?" Eren laughed. "No idea, but sooner or later, we will escape." In the meantime, I think we have some training to do. "Training?" Zulah asked. Eren stood up and shaked his shoulders to loosen them up. "If I'm going to accompany you, you'll need to be able to survive a fight, or avoid one if possible. I'll teach you everything I know, from swordfighting and stealth to brewing stuff and making clothes and armor." Eager to begin his training now, Zulah leapt up.

That day, a friendship was sparked. It was not very powerful yet, but through future endeavours it would be forged into an unbreakable bond.