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Either I managed to sleep in that uncomfortable position, or my body simply gave out, I was not sure. What I did know was that light shone from outside of the tent through two flaps to my left side, where I assumed the entrance would be. I had just enough space to rotate my body and take in my surroundings with the fresh glow of the morning.

One gaze around the tent told me that I had been right in my assumption from last night, before the mysterious man confirmed it.

The first thing I did was to check towards the part of the tent where the bed was situated, to find it neatly arranged for the day, the stranger long gone.

I didn’t know what time it was or how he’d managed to walk past me, without even feeling the need to wake me up or continue the conversation we had the night before. If our dialogue exchange could even be called that.

I asked, he grunted.

I wanted clarification, he threatened to kill me.

Not much of a conversation in my book.

I took the opportunity to scan my environment, lest there be any surprises. I wasn’t sure what my day would bring, if I would even have the opportunity to see the light of day again or if I would find my death in this tent. But if I had any chance at continuing for a little longer, one thing was certain. I had to take the present as it was. Analyse the known factors. And find a solution to the problem.

Right now, I was captive in a faerie camp, a drake one nonetheless, and the important attributes that had kept me alive the night before were my age, my location and my ability to receive orders. Either that or my ability to keep my mouth shut, it was still to be determined.

For some reason, I was tied up in the tent of a stranger, who cared more about his rest than my presence, which again, worked in my favour. Maybe he would care enough to release me?

One question at the time, Nora, I tried to settle myself and continued to learn my surroundings.

There was a lot of noise outside. Lots of chatter, lots of banging and rustling. Lots of voices. Both male and female. Which meant that this was a rather large camp, if I was to make an assumption. A large camp that would most likely make a move towards my town.

Focus, Nora, focus. What can you see?

Metallic bars to support the structure of the tent, also used to hold prisoners. Check.

Large bed fit for royalty in the far corner, removed from the entrance flaps to offer more comfort. Check.

Leather made ornaments and decorations to commemorate what I assumed were gods and battle scenes. Also check.

I stopped my mental list and took the time to analyse these.

After all, the artist in me could not resist the temptation of sorting through shapes and colours and admire the masterfully painted wall decor.

It contained such vivid colours that my tutors would have probably passed out at the sight of them and the way they combined the brown background of the leathers to obtain such stunning hues was beyond me.

Such a technique had not been shared with the humans, that was for sure.

It looked as if they were repainted over layers of dust, some of the work creaking under the weight of past colours to obtain such vivid tonalities.

And the main focus of such artistic offerings was fire.

Flames engulfed a myriad of portrayals, always presented at the centre. Always portrayed as the main element. The very purpose of the work. And they always seemed to expand into other parts, as though wanting to conquer the entirety of the canvas. One thing was for sure, if I were to find my ending here, it would be an honour to perish surrounded by such mastery.

There was also a large table and chairs on the side of the tent, parallel to me, massive enough to accommodate a large family. No food in sight however, much to the disappointment of my stomach.

The floor was peppered with soft furs, creating a makeshift carpet that generated enough heat to easily become a bed, which was probably why I had fallen asleep the night before.

Nothing else of much importance that I could spot, or at least not when I had my back towards the entrance and turning to have a three-sixty view was not an option.

There was, however, a side of the wall, if I could even call it that inside of a tent, that was covered with more furs, as one would a hidden panel, but I had absolutely zero chance to reach that far and investigate.

And then there was the bar that had become acquainted with my wrist, lining itself perfectly with the metallic structure that held the tent upright, offering it the arched shape holding it in place. For the past few hours, I had become a part of that structure, involuntarily holding this tent through the unwilling connection my right hand had been trapped in.

To say that I was cramping was an understatement. I had tried shifting myself into better positions, clenching my fists to pull more blood into my joints and even tried to move up and down with the hope that I would somehow de-tension my arm, at least a little bit.

Nothing proved as efficient as I’d hoped and even if I’d found temporary solace, the spasms always came back with a vengeance. I had no other choice but to remain in that vegetative state and hang in there, awaiting my fate. And falling in and out of consciousness as the camp life swivelled around me.

My eyes were droopy and my body ready to give out, sending me into yet another black out, when my ears alerted me of the arrival of footsteps heading towards my general direction.

I forced myself upright, doing my absolute best to place my body into a dignified position. Not that, being tied up to a rail, wearing yesterday’s clothes did anything to aid my situation but still, attitude was what mattered, and I made sure I had plenty of that.

Forcing my shackle towards my wrist and pushing my hand up, I managed to somehow raise my body into a stand, while ensuring I didn’t damage my hand too much. It wasn’t the most comfortable position but damn it if I was going to present myself to this mysterious man as a prisoner.

No, he had to see me as the authority that I was, an arts teacher with a university degree, an intelligent and independent woman who was going to negotiate her own release.

I prepared myself for a broody posture, for scars, for a villain with self-importance flair that believed himself a saviour. What I did not prepare for was sunshine.

Because that’s what she was.

As soon as the tent flaps opened to let a second of light in, a blonde, tall and stunning woman walked in, her feet bare and walking as though floating over the furs lining the floor of the tent.

She proceeded with a quick scan to her surroundings, as though looking for something, and when her eyes shifted to me, they twinkled, the blue in their shimmer competing with the azure-induced ocean waves.

She was flawless, possibly the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. The kind that the entire Renaissance movement bloomed to discover. She was so out of place with her surroundings, her porcelain skin untouched by the earthy tonalities enclosing her.

“Hello,”

she smiled at me and walked slowly in my direction, as one does towards a snare, unwilling to scare the trapped animal inside it.

“Hello,”

I replied, unwilling to let her in just yet. Not until I became familiar with her intentions.

“My name is Karisha,”

she continued, still smiling at me, her long lashes fanning lazily on her cheeks, keeping up that smile with lips too rosy to be believed.

“My name is Nora,”

I replied and, even though my senses did not agree with my choice, I awkwardly reached towards her stretched-out hand. Not because I was feeling particularly polite at that moment, but because I needed to feel her skin and ensure her realness by doing so. Even for a dream, she was too beautiful to be created by my imagination only. I did not think myself capable of imagining such a masterpiece.

Her hands were soft as they shook mine, her touch lingering a second longer than necessary. I must admit, I enjoyed her touch, the smoothness of the skin, the hands that were so obviously soft, they seemed to have never touched anything rough in their entire existence. So at odds with what I assumed our surroundings to be.

“My apologies,”

she finally retreated and displayed another polite smile.

“You must think me odd to say this, but you are not… what was expected,”

she blinked her blue eyes at me, as if double-checking it was truly me that was in front of her.

“Do I not meet the criteria?”

I raised my brows, determined to find out why I was deserving of her reaction. This might be another unexplored alleyway with a possible lead to my release, another unknown factor I needed to determine.

“Oh, no,”

she produced an embarrassed giggle, which gave her soft voice a sweeter clink.

“Please do not misunderstand me, I meant it as a compliment. I only meant that I didn’t expect you to be so… forgive me if I am too forward… beautiful.”

A goddess talking to a flower about beauty, that was a first. Still, I allowed myself to receive the compliment. I had heard it multiple times throughout my life, so it didn’t come as a surprise and, coming from another woman, especially one with looks that made mine fade into nothingness, was a true compliment.

“Thank you, I would like to return the compliment,”

I did not shy away from responding.

“Though I was told I meet the exact criteria I have apparently been selected for. I am a young woman, and I was taken from Enderflagg,”

I pushed the information I had towards her, hoping for a better solution to the unknown.

Indeed, her blue eyes widened just slightly before she moulded herself back into her composure.

“Who said that?”

she asked sweetly, as though my observation was merely that, an inconsequential fact.

“We managed to have a conversation last night,”

I confirmed, setting my eyes on her reaction. I didn’t have to struggle too much to observe, because her brows shot up to her hairline in surprise.

“You already met Dahr???”

she shrieked more than spoke, but my focus converged into the information she released.

Dahr.

The man that would strike my town.

The man who threatened to kill me last night.

Were one and the same.

And it seemed like I was his prisoner.

“I have,”

I pushed the thumping of my heart lower into my chest to allow my lungs to gather some much-needed air.

“I see…”

she tilted her head at me slightly and blinked a few times. She didn’t truly look at me, but through me, as though she was checking a mental list concerning this situation and I had made her skip more steps than necessary, preventing her from finding her footing.

Curious, since I was the one kidnapped and tied up in the tent of the man who was going to strike my town.

I needed to find out exactly what a ‘strike’ entailed.

“Are you… alright?”

Karisha recomposed herself, but she mustn’t have liked the words that came out of her mouth, because she grimaced at their sound.

“I believe you would have to be more specific with that question, given my particular situation,”

I replied instead, doing my best to be polite and not shout the obvious fact that I was, very evidently, not alright.

“Sure,”

she pressed her lips together as a sign of apology.

“Is there anything you need, that I may provide?”

Before I had a chance to speak, she added.

“I am not allowed to release you, only Dahr decides when that happens. I can provide you with comfort, however. Food, clothing, dressing for any wounds or treatment that you might require?”

“Some sort of support so I can adjust my hand into various positions to get more comfortable would be great,”

I immediately said, the need to release the pain overcoming other physiological requirements.

“Of course,”

she offered me a small smile.

“I will order a chair to be moved for you. And I will send two of the girls with fresh clothing, some food and a pot.”

“A pot?”

I questioned, without realising that I would make her blush.

“For your… needs,”

her rosy cheeks flourished as he said the words.

“Thank you,”

I replied instead of revealing my true thoughts, because who in their right mind considered being tied up to a bar and squatting over a bucket a commodity? I was on a mission of gaining an ally however, so I did not want to be rude.

Karisha offered me another smile before she bowed her head slightly and silently made her way out of the tent, her departure letting another slash of sunshine in.

There wasn’t much I could do after her departure but wait. Wait for the promised food and commodities. Wait to get more comfortable. And wait for Dahr to arrive. The person who had possibly come here with the purpose of destroying my town.

A thousand options occupied my mind. Was I brought here to be interrogated? To be used as some sort of exchange? That would be in their detriment, because I had no real value.

Was I brought here in the hope that I would betray my people and give them whatever information they needed in exchange for freedom? Again, a poor gamble for them…

One thing was true though, Karisha was a woman of her word. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since her visit—I had been too trapped in introspection— when two women entered the tent.

The first thing I noticed was their outfits, so at odds with what Karisha had been wearing when I met her. While she had been dressed like a princess, these two women were dressed in animal remains, for lack of a better word. They had some sort of top made from bits of fur and leather that acted more like a bra/corset rather than a protective garment and they were both wearing short skirts, which again, seemed to be made of sewn together parts of fur, serving the only purpose of covering their private areas. Assumingly, underwear was out of the question.

I tried to introduce myself and speak to them, but they only bowed once in introduction and proceeded to bring a chair by my side, signalling me to sit. Then they brought a clay pot with a cover, which they situated further from me, pointing to the metal bar to let me know that I needed to move in order to reach it. And I received a plate of food with a mug of water.

The entirety of the visit took less than five minutes of my time, leaving me once more, on my own after their frenzy and refusal to address me. Having nothing better to do, and truly no other option, I ate the cheese, cucumbers and bread first, before sliding my shackles across the metal bar to make my body reach the pot and squatted after a long struggle of unzipping my pants in order to relieve myself.

Using the toilet like that and being forced to lie only a few feet next to it felt degrading, yet I tried to think of it from a rational perspective.

As a prisoner, I had been tied up to prevent my escape, which had been expected, I had been allowed to sleep in the comfort of a tent and my basic necessities had been ensured. All in all, I couldn’t say that the faeries were treating me too badly.

The item I was truly the most grateful for was the chair and the relief sitting provided to my lower back and my entire right upper body. I allowed my muscles to relax and my back to release the tension it had been holding for almost a day, while leaning my head back and stretching my neck and dissipating the constant pull that had grown in between my shoulders.

For a little while, at least, I was relaxed. Dare I say, I even enjoyed myself and forced the imagery of a visit to the museum. I looked up and admired the artwork, letting my body relax and my thoughts flow.