Frostpaw

Chapter 5 - Half-light

That night, Zèon could not sleep a wink.

With any small movement he made, he could still feel the sharp pain that the lashings had left not only on his back, but also inside his body. He felt every single muscle stiff and in pain, as if he had been forced to sleep in an impossible position for a long time. Zèon thought that was due to the electric shock of the lashings, although he could not be sure. That pain already made it difficult to rest, but it was not the only thing that kept him from sleeping. Together with the physical suffering, he still had to deal with his bitter memories and, over all, with the concern that everyone in the Box already knew his secret. How would the fehlar react when they knew that in the past he had been nothing more than a slave of the lowest category?

Zèon hated looking weak. He knew his emotions made him look weak, that his physical appearance made him look weak and that the mark he had been branded for life with made him look weak. Of those three things, he could only control the first and the second. Because of that, since the moment he had entered the Box, he had felt the necessity of hiding that sinister tattoo in an almost obsessive way. He did not want anyone to look down at him because of who he was, nor being pitied and offered help he had never asked for and he did not need. He only wanted to be normal.

And now, however, all his efforts to achieve that had vanished in the air. Everyone knew he was not normal and he had never been. Everyone knew that at some time in his life he had just been an object.

Zèon gave Luca a long look. The wolf had stood at the head of his bed, seated, as he held his paw; but hours had passed and he finally had fallen asleep. Now, his head rested against one of the posts of the bunk bed and he snored softly. The arctic fox's eyes tinged with fondness and he smiled a bit, as he watched the face of the only one he had openly trusted with his feelings, the only one that had known about his physical weaknesses; the only one he had dared to tell why he had that mark in his waist. If Koi had been like a little brother to him, Luca had become the big brother he never had. Zèon did not know what he would have done if anyone had taken any of them away from him. Sometimes he thought it would be like losing his family again.

Nights in the Box were strange. There was not any noise in the corridors, and from the bedrooms of the other fehlar and kane Zèon could only hear heavy sleepy breathings and some snoring. No one was ever awake at that time; he would have bet that not even the guards were at their posts. Night was maybe the only time in which the prisoner's privacy was respected (except for the showers, of course).

In fact, Zèon could not remember spending another night awake in the Box. He always felt strangely tired, terribly worn out, as if the very fact of being trapped there sucked his energy. For that reason, he enjoyed the silence that could even be breathed in the air; the fact that he was the only one conscious enough to enjoy it. In spite of Luca's presence by his side, he wanted to feel alone.

He needed to feel alone and that sleepless night allowed him to do just that.

That was the first morning in which, when the alarm rang, Zèon had been awake for more than just a few seconds. He had not managed to sleep in all night and the change from that absolute and perfect tranquility to the usual bustle caught him off-guard. For a second, he almost regretted that the silence and the quietness of the night had vanished, although it only took him a few seconds to get used to that new environment.

Luca startled a bit when he opened his eyes and found himself in Zèon's bed, but it did not take him long to remember that the previous night he had fallen asleep there. He stretched, awaking his stiff muscles. Then, almost completely clear-headed, he gave a worried look to the arctic fox, who remained by his side lying down in the bed with a tranquil expression.