Many months passed after Claire's realization. The warm field outside her window had become frost-bitten, blanketed in the softest snow she had ever seen. But she could not bring herself to enjoy it like before. Just like the sky above, her curiosity had become bleak and lifeless since the day Midori thieved every shred of hope from Claire's clutched hands.
Foscor returned shortly after Midori had left. Even with his limited knowledge of the young girl, the air around her turned cold and reserved—he knew something was wrong.
"What's troubling you, young one?"
"Oh nothing, just tired," Claire sighed, turning to face the wall.
Foscor paused for a moment. Claire's stories constantly fell from her rose-hued lips as though they couldn't wait to dance upon the listeners ears. But now, they hid behind her teeth. Mere thoughts afraid to mutter more than brief phrases. Meaningless exclamations to satisfy the listener enough to leave.
Had he finally broke her? Was this the day it finally panned out? No ... it couldn't be. Every other prisoner in the tower took at least another month to stop bargaining with him.
"Please let me out," they'd cry, "I'll do anything!"
"I cannot let you out. The tower told me you are not ready," he'd spit back.
Foolish mortals, stone cannot talk.
The dragon nudged his nose through the window, prying for more information.
"While I was out I snatched a translation book from a nearby village," Foscor said, letting the soggy book tumble from his mouth. Claire didn't budge. "I'd be happy to help you understand our language so you can read the journals on your own."
"I don't want to read the journals. They won't help me get out."
Foscor's face drew to a scowl.
"But they might! There is simply no harm in trying," Foscor said gleefully, his tone clashing against his contorted face.
"I've tried everything, Foscor," the young girl groaned lazily pointing to the corner.
Tattered cloth intertwined with strips of old blanket lounged upon the splintered floor.
"Surely there has to be some other w—"
She aggressively threw her pointer finger toward the opposing wall. An elaborate masterpiece sketched in pencil dug into the stone.
"What is that of, Claire?" Foscor questions.
"My mama ... She would know what to do."
"But she is not here, you are. And you have to get yourself out of this tower and go home."
"I'm too tired. I'm done trying."
"Very well," Foscor said, a smirk rising upon his lips.
The nights came and went as the young girl spiraled even further. Every morning producing the same bleak response.
"Good morning, Claire."
Claire would sit up in the bed, tousle her matted hair, then curl back into the sheets until she was once again interrupted by the persistent dragon.
"What is the plan for today? Will you face the circumstances? Or will you continue to lay in that bed, wasting away into nothingness?"
"The latter, please," Claire would murmur, dismissing him with the wave of her boney hand.
After a few days of the same answer, Foscor grew so irritated that he found his own responses getting cut short.
On one morning in particular, the dragon's tongue sharpened to the point of no return.
"Good morning."
Nothing.
"I said, 'good morning'," he spat towards her.
Her body rose to generate a deep sigh before turning away once again.
"Do not turn from me. I will tolerate it no longer."
"Or what?"
Foscor's step back was so immense, clouds of dust fell from the rafters of the ceiling.
"Or what? OR WHAT?" Foscor paused, trying to collect himself, "I cannot do this anymore."
Claire sat straight up, staring sharply into the citrine eyes of the dragon.
"What are you even talking about?" Claire questioned.
"I am finished trying to be your companion. From now on, I will be providing you with the same hospitality as every single other resident of this tower."
"W-What do you mean, dragon?" The young girl whispered, scooting backward.
"Look at you, simply pathetic. But since it seems you are not catching on to my motives, I will try my best to explain, though I'm not expecting someone as idiotic as you to understand." The dragon spat every single word straight into the agape mouth of the young girl. The acidity and harshness burned through her flesh, capturing the final morsel of hope Claire had.
Foscor's slitted eyes cut through the cowering girl shivering against the wall.
"I am going to make every waking moment in this tower a living hell for you, so get ready you worthless worm."
YOU ARE READING
A Starless Earth
Fantasy"When it hurts, observe. Life is trying to teach you something" "If life is trying to teach me that I should trust an oversized lizard, count me out!" ---- Much like the countless fairytales, Claire finds herself trapped in a brooding tower guarde...
