Original Stories Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction / Realism Fan Fiction ❯ Darkness Eternal ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 5 )

Chapter FourSora

The night was cool across the vast desert, the rough terrain broken only by the occasional tree that thrust itself stubbornly into the sky. Stars winked overhead and cast their dim light to magnify the moon's milky brilliance, lending light to the hundred or so that milled about outside of their wagons.

She stood glaring at the much taller slaver, a low growl issuing from her throat. “Say it again,” she said quietly, her silver hair reflecting in the bright moonlight. “Say it, you bloody fucking coward.” Nearly a head shorter than the man she still made an imposing figure the way her face danced with ill suppressed fury, the way her strong shoulders were set back.

“Fine,” he said, his lips barely moving. “You are a…dragon's hell of a bitch and you deserved losing everything, especially your bra-” Nothing more escaped his lips as he suddenly choked and gagged on his own blood and clutched uselessly at the hands thrust into his chest.

With an angry snarl she tore her hands free and ignored the blood that spattered her face and torn clothes, though she stepped swiftly away as the corpse fell forward. She lifted her blue eyes and met silver. Something sparked in hers before she turned her head away to meet Jestiry's angry gaze, the one in charge of the caravan. A smirk flitted across her lips before she collapsed to her knees, clutching at the collar that sat snugly about her neck.

No scream escaped her lips, but to anyone watching it was clear that she was in agony. Lines appeared around her drawn mouth as she tried in vain to hold the tremors at bay. She snarled soundlessly as she raised her eyes to Jestiry's.

“Enough,” someone further in the night called. “If you continue to rip away at her, she will not be sane enough to sell at auction. Think of the price you can get for her as she is now, Jestiry.”

Jestiry's mouth twisted in disgust as he watched her curl around her stomach, tremors of pain wracking her body. Strong in mind and body one of her breed could not be fully tamed with the brutal means he was using, only subdued. With this in mind, he turned and released the spell on the collar and walked away from her without so much as a word.

* * *

“What was that about?” Sara asked of Sadi.

Though he shrugged, Soren saw the troubled look his dark eyes held. Before she could pester him about it their slaver roughly grabbed her by the hair and pulled her forward, drawing their lots attention back to the situation at hand. She stumbled a little, but when she caught her footing she kneed him in the crotch and slammed the heel of her foot into his toes.

A strangled hiss of pain passed through his teeth as released Soren's hair and stumbled back a little. “Next time I'll do worse,” she said quietly.An oath sounded somewhere behind her. “Fayra, you'll make this mess worse for us,” Sadi hissed. “Apologize and say it was an accident.”

“Fuck no,” Soren snapped, turning her head to glare at the older man. “I'm not going to submit just because someone tells me to be afraid.”

Even under the moonlight Soren could see that he had suddenly gone stark white. His eyes were fixed on a point just beyond her shoulder and, following his line of sight, she found herself staring at Jestiry.

Jestiry was kneeling next to his man with a hand on his shoulder as he was murmuring something into his ear. His shoulders tensed as fury crossed his somewhat handsome features and as his turned his head to look at Soren and rose she noted the lean muscles that rippled just beneath his bare skin along his arms. “Stupid girl,” he said, his quiet voice setting her skin to crawling.

“Says you,” she said haughtily.

“And what I say goes around here. Out here who knows what could happen,” he shot back, his eyes studying her intently, “to a pretty young girl like you.”

She couldn't help herself. Even if she had wanted to she couldn't have withheld the laugh that burst forth from her and echoed through the suddenly quiet night. She was laughing so hard that it brought tears to her eyes and rendered Jestiry temporarily speechless.

The long moments were stretched taut as she fought to regain control of herself and when she finally stopped laughing long enough to choke out a coherent sentence she said, “You honestly expect me to be afraid of you just because you're the goddamn boss man?!” She gave a derisive laugh before continuing. “I've seen worse and let me tell you, you are tame when compared to her.” As her mother's image flashed through her mind's eye her laugh abruptly cut off as a strange smile crossed her lips.

Even in the night she saw Jestiry step forward and saw his hand flash through the air. She snapped her wrist through the air and smashed it against his arm, knocking his hand to the side as she twisted her arm to wrap her fingers around his wrist. Her neutral calm suddenly settled around her like water over a fall and washed away every trace of the emotion she had felt. Taking a step closer with her left foot she landed a punch to his throat and then brought her knee up to knee him in the groin, but missed as he twisted away from her.

Jestiry reversed the hold she had on his wrist and bent her wrist and arm under and behind her back almost to the point of breaking. Next he swept her feet out from under her and forced her to the ground on her knees, bending her back forward until her hair touched the desert sand.

“Junkura,” he said quietly.

Fire spread slowly from her wrists and wrapped along her arms and trailed into her fingers as she tried to rear back against the sudden burning sensation, but was hindered by Jestiry's hand on the back of her head. With every pulse of her heart the fire spread and increased the burning ten fold until it engulfed every fiber of her body and it felt as though she were standing in the middle of a blazing bonfire.

Say it, something screamed at her. Call me.

She opened her mouth, but instead of words a strangled scream of wordless pain escaped her throat. As suddenly as it had begun, it ended and she slid forward to lay face down on the sand, her body jerking slightly as an aftermath of the pain. “Care for another round?” Jestiry asked coldly. “Act up again and you'll get twice the dose you just received.

“Now, which of you encouraged her to be difficult?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the others draw closer together. Apparently they had all seen and felt what had just happened to her at one point or another during their journey. When she tried to push herself a booted foot slammed into her back, knocking the breath from her lungs and forcing her back to the ground.

“Well, someone step forward or you will all feel my fury,” he said, his voice snapping through the air like a whip.

“I did it,” came Sadi's quiet voice. “I encouraged her to be act out.”

Soren felt something cold clutch at her heart as she heard Sadi step forward. “No you didn't,” she said indignantly, raising her head to glare at him. “Didn't I tell you before that I submit to no one?”

“Shut it,” Jestiry ordered her as the pressure on her back increased.

Turning her head slightly, she glared at him from the corner of her eye. “Try it, you stupid fuck,” she said.

Jestiry glanced down at her and jerked away in surprise. He took another step back as she lifted herself into a sitting position. “They had nothing to do with my actions. I acted on my own, so just try and punish them for what I alone did,” she said, her voice dangerous and cutting.

He recovered himself after a moment, though he did not seem as keen to punish them as he had been. “Yes, well that settles that,” he said, his eyes studying her again, “but that still leaves the matter of the missing dragon egg. One of you filthy beggars stole it and when I find out who, you'll pay dearly for it,” he added as his gaze swept over the lot of them.

Do you want it?

Yes, Soren responded and before she even finished thinking the word a soft wind blew through the wagons. A heavy weight appeared in her lap and when she looked down she saw a shape as black as the night itself, though it was smooth as silk when she ran her fingers over the surface.

Glancing up she saw that Jestiry was already directing three of his men to begin searching the other slaves and their wagon. “Is this the egg?” she asked, her voice quite calm.

Jestiry glanced around at her and started when he saw the shape in her lap. “How in dragon's hell did you get that?” he snapped.

“Ask the wind,” she retorted.

She didn't need light to tell her that his face had gone six different shades of red in two seconds at her remark. Grinning, she allowed the slavers to drag her to her feet as the third snatched the egg from her lap. Their eyes met and her grin turned into a callous smirk as he said, “Bring her and give me that.”

As the egg traded hands something sparked in the night, making the slaver yelp in pain and drop it. Jestiry went to one knee as he snatched it out of free fall and glared up at the man, who turned a dull shade of crimson.

Tucking the egg into the crook of his arm he stood and turned away from the other male and strode towards the front of the caravan. “Get ready to move out,” he snapped at the staring faces of the hundred or so slaves and slavers. At his words, his men scrabbled to get the slaves they were in charge of back into one of the nine wagons.

As they passed the seventh wagon Jestiry paused and called, “Hector, a moment?”

A burly, heavyset man stepped from the wagon's shadow where he had been observing the slaves being loaded into its interior. His beady eyes swept over Soren before he turned to Jestiry and gave a jerky. “What is it?” he asked in a surprisingly mellow voice.

“Is she one of yours?” he asked, jerking his head back at Soren.

“Yes,” he said.

“Are you sure?” he prompted.

“The hair is hard to forget,” Hector said eyeing her mistrustfully. Soren returned the look with interest and he turned his head away. “Eyes are disturbing, too,” he added.

Jestiry disregarded his comments and took them as confirmation as he said, “Unshackle her. I will be the one to control this one.”

Hector's eyes slid from her to Jestiry. “You never ask no one to unshackle their prisoner once you assign them. Why now?”

“She stole the dragon egg and she's a fighter. You couldn't handle her if she got out of hand, so I'd rather not risk letting her get free from you and lose the price she might fetch at auction. Now, unshackle her.” His dark eyes glinted in the moonlight as hector made no move to answer, until, finally, he gave a curt nod and moved slowly towards her.

Soren didn't try to break away from the two slaver's grips as Hector touched her wrist and muttered something indistinguishable. The thought of breaking free and running for it crossed her mind as the second shackle dropped free of her wrist, but there was still the matter of she didn't even know where she was, let alone where she would go if she escaped these men. Instead, she contented herself with the knowledge that as soon as they got to this slave pen or auction or wherever it was that they were going she would hightail it out of there and get…back. No, I'll go somewhere else other than that crap hole. The government can stick me in another boarding school like they did before, but it'll at least be away from those fuckers.

Her eyes met Jestiry's as he raised the shackle to her wrist and in that moment she knew that so long as he was the one presiding over her she would never escape. For one instant she was seized with the desire to claw him to death, but then the shackle snapped shut and he had already sealed it shut with another indistinguishable word. She was already caught and, seeing as she wasn't suicidal, there was no need to make matters worse by attacking the head honcho again.

His eyes left hers as he sealed the second shackle and when she glanced over his shoulder she met the sea green gaze of the woman she had seen earlier. In the pale moonlight, her light complexion was enhanced almost to the point where it looked like she was a sheet. A smile slid across her lips before she hoisted herself into the wagon.“'ey!”

She jerked her attention back to Jestiry. “What?” she asked, her tone dripping with disdain and animosity.

“Listen when I speak,” he said, his eyes flashing dangerously. “As I was saying, I have limited your distance from me to three thousand yards. Understood?”

“No,” she said dryly.

A sharp crack filled the night air as he slapped her with enough force to turn her head and slit her cheek. “Let go of her,” he ordered the two slavers without looking away from her. Then he seized her arm, shoved the egg into one of the slaver's arms, and hauled her after him as he marched up to the front of the caravan, towards the stallion that was waiting for him.

“Let's see if your legs can keep up with you mouth,” he said harshly once they reached the horse. He ripped a length of rope from his saddlebags and yanked her closer to him as he made to grab her free wrist.

With a soft snarl Soren drove her fist into his stomach and bashed her forehead into his, succeeding only in making herself light headed. He was quicker than she had thought and in the second that it took her to regain her senses he already had the rope around one of her wrists. She tried to yank away, but he was stronger still and by this time he had captured her free hand.

He released her hands once her wrists were securely tied together and in the time it took him to tie the remaining length of rope to his saddles she knew the panic that fluttered in her stomach. She was about to be dragged to death and she was doing nothing about it. Just as that realization hit her she bent her head and tried to loosen the rope with her teeth.

Well, even if there was nothing else she could do she would make damn sure that she went down with a fight and perhaps take the jackass with her. The knowledge quelled some of her panic, but not enough that she could think properly. Something stirred on the wind in response to her panic and a numb sensation spread through her.

Just keep up, something encouraged her. I'll be there right behind you, don't worry.

Those words, whether imagined or real, broke her panic and dispelled any fears that might have been. Her whole body relaxed and as she straightened she saw a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye.

“Basfer,” Jestiry called from his saddle.

The lanky slaver he had thrust the egg to slunk over, still carrying the egg as though it were gold. “Yes?” he asked.

Jestiry held a hand out and Basfer stared at it without comprehension for a moment before he looked back to Jestiry. “Give it,” Jestiry ordered him and Basfer reluctantly handed it over to him. “Back to your post and tell the others that we are moving out, now.”

He didn't even wait for Basfer to respond but drove his heels into the stallion's flanks and pressed him into a hard trot, taking care to keep the reins drawn tight. Soren bit back a gasp as she was jerked forward and made to jog along behind the horse. She allowed her body to settle into a rhythm and concentrated on her breathing instead of on the almost painful pull of her arms.

This wasn't so bad, she could easily keep the pace he was setting for an hour or two. Hell, she could look at this as just another of those torturous P.E. sessions that Ms. Demert loved so much and forget for a while that she didn't know where she was or even what she was doing there.

The sand passed easily enough beneath her feet as the horizon slowly turned from midnight black to a rosy hue, the creak of the wagons mingling with the occasional snort of a horse. It wasn't until orange began to mix with the pink and sweat really started streaking her back and making the remnants of her tee really stick to her skin that her breathing became ragged and her side cramps started catching up with her.

Keep going. You're doing good.

Fuck off, she snapped back, irate.

Define fuck.

Soren flushed at the voice's amusement and tried to focus again on her breathing, but her concentration was broken and she was forced to realize that she was reaching her bodily limits. Her leg suddenly seized up and she toppled forward only to be dragged forward by the horse. An involuntary cry of pain escaped her as the sand tore at her jeans and her arms were nearly ripped from their sockets with every other jounce of the horse's stride.

Gritting her teeth against the pain she grasped the rope and tried to pull herself back up, but every time she got one foot under her the other dragged and threw her off. “Shit,” she breathed as the stallion suddenly picked up speed and his hooves came dangerously close to her head.

She tried to roll away from the hooves, but the momentum that was carrying them merely stopped the roll halfway through so that she was being dragged on her back instead. Stars burst in front of her eyes as a hoof connected with her skull and then everything went black as she felt the earth stop moving beneath her.

* * *

“-tard. I told you that she could not withstand a lot of physical activity once she woke up and from the looks of it she was awake only a few hours before you decided to bash her in the skull with your horse's hooves. Are you trying to kill her?”

“Shut up,” came a cold sneer. “I'll do as I please when I please with you lot. Or have you forgotten what you said.”

Silence…

Then, “No I haven't forgotten.”

“Good, now tend to her and send her back to me once she wakes,” Jestiry said coolly.

Once she heard him leave Soren cracked one eye open and glanced around. There was straw everywhere, a chest near the end of the wagon, and someone with their back to her as they looked after someone else. Her fingers closed around a thin sheet of cloth covering the bed of straw she was laying on.

As she rose into a sitting position the world gave a sickening lurch and her head pounded as though someone were taking a hammer to her brain. She groaned and put her head in her hands, falling back to lay on the straw.

“You alright?”

“Go away,” she moaned.

“Take some water first.”

“No,” she croaked, though her throat was bone dry.

“Take it.”

One of her hands was peeled away from her face and water forced against her lips, though she still refused to take a drink.” A soft sigh sounded. “Would you like me to prove that I have not poisoned it?”

“Yes,” she croaked.

“Then open your eyes and watch.” Her voice was soft with just a hint of a musical lilt to it and when Soren dropped her other hand to her chest and opened her eyes she was startled to see that the woman had skin as pale as the recent moonlight and such delicate features that she looked like a living china doll complete with even the silky gold hair, but her most startling features were her ears. They were…long and pointed.

As the elf raised the animal skin to her lips to take a drink, Soren let her head drop back to the mattress as she groaned, “You're an elf. You're a freaking elf.”

“Very good, at least you're observant,” she said her voice suddenly sharp, the water skin falling limp to her lap and spilling water all over the place.

“I wasn't insulting you,” Soren said harshly, lowering her hand to glare at the woman. “I just never thought your kind was real. All the stories I've ever heard about you guys either had you working for the fat man and really freaking short or so beautiful it hurt your eyes, though both had the pointed ears.”

A politely puzzled look settled across her delicate features. “Fat man?” she repeated uncertainly. “What is the…ah…fat man?”

“Santa,” she replied, suddenly seized with the ridiculous nature of the situation. She gave a short, mirthless laugh. Here she was with the exact proof that she was in a different world where dragons and elves existed, thrust into a slave caravan going to god knows where to be sold, and here she was talking to an elf about Santa of all things. “An old legend from where I once lived.”

“Do you mean Regenku?” she asked, suddenly intrigued.

“No. Is that a country like Kokutoma and Jesira?”

“Yes. Then you are an outsider?”

Soren cast her a suspicious look and quickly averted her eyes as she said, “I suppose. What is an outsider to you guys?”

“You come from the land across the black sea,” she said. “What is your name?”

“Your's first,” Soren replied shortly.

“Tengra,” she said with a soft laugh.

“Fayra,” she supplied dully.

“Your real name?”

“You have it.”

“No, that is a false name.”

“Then suck it up and deal with it.

A light laugh filled the air as she said, “You are a stubborn one, but then most cross breeds are.”

Change the subject! something screamed at her, making her start and look around.“What was that?” she asked cautiously.

Tengra's eyes flicked to her side and then to the other patient. “Never mind,” she said loftily. “You need water and then you need to get back to sleep. Sleep will do you better than overexerting yourself, young Fayra,” she added when she saw Soren about to protest. “You can speak, you can drink, so drink.”

That said, Tengra shoved a fresh animal skin under her nose. Soren reluctantly took it and drank from it, but once she started she couldn't stop. She hadn't realized that she was as thirsty as she was and she finished the skin in less than twenty chugs and then promptly fell back onto the straw, drowsy, but content.

As sleep was settling over her, Tengra knelt down beside her and whispered, “You have a very observant Kingen. I hadn't even noticed that he was waking. Be sure to keep her presence hidden from Jestiry.”

She tried to ask what the woman meant, but the words came out gargled. Then she blinked and saw no more.

* * *

When she next awoke it was to the smell of charring wood. She sat bolt upright and winced as her head throbbed. “Tengra?” she asked, slightly surprised at how much better her throat felt. “What's that smell?”

“She's thrown a fit again,” Tengra sighed softly, “and gone and burned another wagon.”

“Who?”

“You must have seen her,” Tengra said with mild surprise. “Silver hair, green eyes. Trademark of a dragon Riagenkai.”

Soren's head jerked up in surprise. “The silver hair and green eyes?” she asked.

She raised an eyebrow at the question, but shook her head. “No, just the silver hair. All other dragons look as human as you do. Why? Have you seen one somewhere?” Her blue eyes were suddenly alive with questions and a kind of eagerness that Soren wasn't used to. It was honest curiosity; nothing more, nothing less.

She switched her gaze to the outside and was slightly surprised to see that it was night again. “No,” she said. I've seen two. “The others were just talking about them earlier so I'd wondered, is all.” It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly the full truth either.

Tengra's eyes studied her for a moment before she shrugged and turned back to her other patient. “That's possible,” was all she said, leaving Soren with the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on.

Riagenkai. That was what those two she had first met must have been. If they were dragon guardians then what was one trying to kill her for? And why was the second protecting her? What did she have that both wanted?

She had nothing, seeing as she had dropped her bag in the forest and left all her belongings back at the school. And yet, they had come after her. What did they want and why were they so intent on her.

Sighing in exasperation she buried her head in her hands once more. There was no point in trying to continue with that line of thought, all that would happen would be her getting a worse headache than she already had. Running her fingers through her hair she looked up and saw that Tengra was still watching after the other patient.

She pushed herself to her feet and ignored the weak feeling of her legs and the stabbing headache that permeated from lack of food and hopped down from the stationary wagon. The air was suddenly so thick with smoke that she had to wonder why it hadn't entered the wagon, but she shrugged it off and made a beeline straight for the burning wagon and the people loosely circled around it as they watched the burning wood.

A few shot her nervous glances and shifted out of her way as she passed them and made her way to the front of the half crowd. There were some that pointedly ignored her as they watched the fire and the pair nearest it as they argued

Soren stopped dead as she caught sight of the silver haired woman and Jestiry as they bickered. Tengra had said that the woman was a dragon guardian and yet, aside from her hair, she looked perfectly human with her flushed cheeks and flashing eyes. Without really meaning to she walked towards the woman and got within thirty feet before the fire outlined her figure in the night and made her visible to Jestiry, whom broke off their argument and stalked towards her. The woman turned to see what had drawn his attention and Soren saw again something flicker in her eyes.

Her eyes snapped back to Jestiry as he came within three paces of her and blocked her view of the woman. “Well, now that you're awake you can help put out this flame and then keep that dragon bitch occupied,” he said coolly. That said, he shoved her aside and disappeared into the night from whence she had come.

She ignored his orders and instead studied the woman. “You are a dragon?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice clipped as she inhaled deeply.

“There's no hope for that fire,” she said jerking her head at the wagon.

“Nope.”

If she hadn't seen that dragon transform she wouldn't have believed it possible for one to stand before her in human form. She could feel her palms beginning to sweat as her heartbeat picked up ever so slightly. There was a different quality to dragons than elves that made her slightly more nervous than she had been around Tengra. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that one had stabbed her through the chest with his claws.

Her eyes narrowed as she said, “Karu?”

Soren flinched slightly and inhaled at the name. Even without conscious probing from her the image of that black dragon flashed through her minds eye, bringing with it that familiar clenching cold she had felt when she'd first heard him.

“I see,” she said softly.

Allowing her normal cold to settle over her she let the fear slip away. “See what?” she asked calmly.

“A dragon's scent lingers for several weeks after they come into contact with anything and another dragon can easily tell how fresh the scent is,” she said, suddenly inspecting her nails as though they were the most interesting things in the world. “What do you know of that particular Riagenkai?”

“He has sharp claws,” Soren replied. “What Riagenkai is he?”

Her green eyes flicked to Soren's face for an instant before she went back to studying her hand. “We are in his country as we speak. Who saved you? Which Riagenkai was it?” she asked.

Though her interest was muffled and well hidden Soren could tell that she was intensely curious about the two she had come into contact with. A faint smile flitted across her lips as she said, “No idea.” If the dragon was that curious about those two she could figure it out for herself.

“Did you hear anything that ascertain as to whom he was?” she asked.

“No. I only caught fragments of their conversation.”

She looked up at her, an expectant look in her eyes, but Soren remained quiet as she studied the dragon woman. “How did he capture you, a dragon? I mean, Karu and him could transform, so it only stands to reason that you could too. How did a guy like him get so lucky?”

“Jestiry's a coward. He paid the villagers I was living among to slip sleeping powder into my food and then he put the collar on me himself,” she said very nonchalantly, flicking the collar in indication. “As to my transforming, this color would choke me if I changed, so it serves two purposes.”

“They betrayed you,” Soren said, almost shocked to hear their double meaning.

She shrugged. “He was holding a few of their girls. I probably would have done the same…” Her voice trailed off her eyes took on a far away look for a moment. “I don't know. Maybe this is fates way of punishing me for my crimes. But,” she added as she came back to the present, “none of that matter right now, does it?”

Soren shrugged as she glanced at the others whom seemed to be following their conversation with just a little too much interest. “Scram,” she snarled at them and they scattered to the wind, thinking better of trying to start something with her as they sought out different wagons.

“What were the two of you arguing about?” she asked, still hoping that she wouldn't ask about the snatches she had heard between Karu and the other.

“You,” she said, “What did you hear them saying?”

“Nothing.”

“I can tell when people are lying,” she said, her voice suddenly dangerous.

“What, so you're going to kill me just for keeping things to myself?” she laughed. “Go ahead and then you might as well kill everyone else here for doing that exact same thing. Hell, why don't you just set the entire place on fire and put everyone out of their misery or stab them through the chest like that one yesterday.”

She flushed a dull crimson. “I only did that because-”

“I'm not asking you to defend yourself,” Soren said coolly. “I'm telling you to keep your nose out of my business, especially when I don't speak freely of it.”

They held each other's gaze for a moment before she snorted and looked away. “What is your name at the very least?”

“Fayra,” she said coolly. “Yours?”

“Sora,” she answered and the two exchanged looks again. “We have three months before we reach the slave pens so I'll eventually get the answers I want out of you. And, who knows, perhaps you'll find the answers you're looking for in that time.” That said, she turned swiftly away and disappeared into the night, leaving Soren slightly ruffled and annoyed.