Fire Prison
His footsteps echoed throughout the halls, growing louder and louder until they filled his ears. Any guard that saw him attempted to move behind him and follow his path, probably to protect him, most likely to spy on him. But he blocked their movements with a raised hand each time.
Hall past hall of cells. Metal stung his nose.
Empty. All empty. Until voices pricked his ears. Not young.
Guards stood in front of a series of cells, talking amongst each other. As they saw him, they drew up and stood in their appropriate positions.
The Fire Lord rolled his eyes. "Are the children all here?"
They nodded as one and a guard spoke up. "Yes, sir. They were brought this morning."
"Were they placed in the holding cells?"
"Yes, sir. Number twelve."
"Were they placed together?"
"Yes, sir."
"Have they shown any signs of escaping yet?"
"No, sir. They've been relatively quiet."
"Relatively?"
"They speak occasionally, but only in hushed voices, sir."
A sigh. "Good. You've done one thing right."
A smile touched the guard's face.
"Are you new here?"
"This is my second week, sir."
"Stay that way. But don't talk to the other guards when you're on duty."
"Yes, sir!"
The Fire Lord raised a hand and flicked it to the side a few times. "Move."
A curt nod. "Yes, sir!" The guard moved.
His footsteps didn't echo so much this time. As he trod down the hall of cells, his eyes scanned for the appropriate laneway. A pause. He turned left.
The cells grew bigger and bigger, cobwebs and dust filling corners, until he felt the presence of other humans.
He moved to the side, slightly out of sight, so he could observe them without them noticing his presence.
One of the kids stood leaning against the back wall, eyes staring ahead of him with his brows furrowed slightly. Occasionally a hand moved down to his side, hand balling into a fist and releasing as his hazel eyes wandered slightly. Reaching a hand to his face and brushing dark blonde hair from it, he turned to the other boy and started talking.
A calculating glint in his blue eyes, the slightly younger looking boy had a slight curl to his redish brown hair - complements to his mother. His thin body seemed more suited to ordering others around then doing the fighting himself, yet he seemed the one taking orders from his older brother. He moved between his two siblings, speaking quietly and calmly.
The last child, the girl, looked about the same age as her red-ish brown haired brother. However, nothing like him. Her dead black and slightly curly hair brushed her neck and shoulder, cut shorter than he would have thought. Black hair was not a given in their family - apart from himself - and definitely didn't come from their mother's side. The grey eyes, though, that was most definitely a family trait. Along with her face shape and bodily proportions.
A slight smile. A soft one.
She was crouched in the corner, hands clutched around the base of an iron bar, straining against something with a frown.
YOU ARE READING
Frozen Flame
Fantasy[Finished and being edited] Once captured by a distraught king, a fierce warrior is forced to choose between saving his family or his country. But choices are never that simple. ...
