The Blood in Our Veins

Chapter Forty Three - Servants of the King

- SINDRI'S POV -

A hand on my shoulder gently shook me to wakefulness. I sat up slowly, somewhat frustrated that I had managed to fall asleep so close to an enemy. I had stayed up late that night cutting off the hair that was burnt. In the end, it reached down to the center of my back. I kept my eyes closed, but I could feel the man from the day before was kneeling on the ground in front of me. "Good. You're awake." he said. I noticed that he had a slight southern accent. How long had he been here? "I don't believe we were properly introduced. My name is Ryon." The slight disturbance in airflow alerted me that his hand was outstretched. I gladly clasped it with my good hand. Overnight, I had guessed at some things. All I needed was for them to be confirmed. I lifted a twig from the dirt beside me.

'Are you the one who did this to me?' I wrote. Since my voice would give away that I was female, I couldn't risk speaking. I extended my scarred arm. He trailed his fingers across it, horrified at the extent of the injury. I felt him nod.

"I didn't think I actually hit you. I thought you had made a clean getaway." he said quietly.

'My Trainer taught me to hide pain. He would torture me for his own entertainment. If I made a sound or shed a tear, he would begin again.'

"That's horrible!" Ryon exclaimed after he had read the message. I nodded once, able to agree with the man. There was an uncomfortable silence for a while. Only the wind in the trees could be heard. "I brought you something." I held out my hands, waiting. In a moment, a hard, warm object was placed in my good palm. The smell that floated up from it was amazing. I had only one thought. Bread! I didn't open my eyes, nor move away my mask to eat it. Instead, I slid it into my pocket for a nastier day.

"The crust is a bit burnt, but the insides are still good. I stole it from Tristan's platter just before it entered his tent." Ryon confessed. I thought about it a moment. These were tough times for the world of Arkenon. If this boy was willing to take something as expensive as bread from his leader's plate, I could trust him as he trusted me. Right? I couldn't reveal who I was. Not yet. I had spent too long hiding. That wasn't going to change overnight.

"Frost?" Ryon asked. "Why do you keep your eyes closed?" I had been dreading the moment he would bring it up. I had no good reply. He would get suspicious if I gave a stupid answer, or if I avoided the question. For once, I decided that being somewhat honest was the only way I could make it convincing. I lifted my short branch for the thousandth time.

'If I opened them, you would know who I am. I can't risk that.' I wrote.

"Well then, tell me who you are. Save yourself the trouble." he suggested. I shook my head. I carefully stood, shaking like a leaf. When I almost fell, Ryon's arms wrapped around my waist, keeping me from further injury. "You're in no condition to leave, boy. I would take you to the camp medics, but I got a feelin' they wouldn't take too kindly to our enemy's major weapon." I knew he was right. Not without assistance, I sat back on the ground. Ryon sat next to me.

We fell silent. He was right. I was his enemy, and he mine. It was quite a rude awakening. We were interacting with the opposing force. I dragged my hand across the ground as I swirled more Draconic letters.

'How long until I have to go back?'

Ryon shrugged. "I guess you don't have to. I'll let you leave when you're strong enough to use your powers." he informed me. In a weak attempt to make thunder, I raised a palm to the sky. Nothing. Not even the smallest whimper. I coughed again, a horrid, raspy sound. "I'm goin' to have to remove your mask, you know." I almost opened my eyes just so I could see the look on his face as I slapped him. Instead, I scrambled away toward the dense foliage.