Mythigore | A Fablehaven and Dragonwatch Adventure |

Chapter Eighteen - "A Friendly Attempt"

[More distracted writing- Hope this is easy to follow]

Seth's eyes shot open and his heart jumped into his throat when a loud clank rang through his ears. He let out a yelp and fell off the side of his bed, his leg still chained to the end of it, flipping him upside down as his head almost slammed against the hard ground. His ankle popped from the jerking pressure of his half fall. Seth's heart thumped in his ears as he hung upside down from his assigned mattress.

"Hah!" Laughed an unfamiliar voice. "I was not expecting that."

Seth swallowed down his shock and looked up to see somebody around his age looking down at him and laughing. The kid's shaggy, black hair shook as well as his shoulders. He clearly got a kick out of scaring the heck out of Seth.

"Ow," Seth mumbled under his breath, reaching his arms up to grab the rim of his bed frame. He tugged himself up, twisting his body awkwardly to get back into a sitting position on the bed. He rubbed his ankle right above the shackle, the skin already bruising.

"Sorry, sorry," The boy said, patting Seth on the shoulder. "That was pretty funny though."

Seth blinked. He didn't find it very funny. But at the same time, he could see himself laughing if Kendra were the one hanging upside down like he was just seconds ago. "Who are you?" He asked solemnly.

The boy stole himself from his shot of euphoria and pulled his lips into a frown, no longer finding Seth amusing. "Who I am doesn't concern you," He said bluntly.

Seth gave the kid a bored expression. "Then why are you here?"

"I sleep in the bed below you, shorty." The boy snarled.

Seth's face scrunched in offence. Shorty? He wasn't short. He was almost as tall as his mom, who happened to be five foot ten. His family had told him that he was sure to be six feet by the time he was eighteen, or nineteen. Sure, Seth was shorter then the adult men he had seen down here, but he felt proud to notice he a least came up to their neck.

Seth opened his mouth to protest against the boy's affront, but clamped it shut when he saw the glare the raven haired kid was giving him.

Wow, what a mood change, Seth thought to himself.

The boy gave no further conversation. He bent down and crawled onto the bed below Seth and closed his eyes with a grunt of satisfaction.

Seth, who was still sitting with one of his legs hanging off the edge of his own bed, blinked. He couldn't express how tempted he was to make a comment about how fast the kid got upset over Seth just simply asking his name. But then Seth frowned, remembering something The Guider had said to him before dropping him off.

"You will not talk to the other slaves. You can try, but they will not respond, as they have been told."

Oh... Seth thought bitterly. He lifted his foot onto his bed and reclined, leaning his back against the wall. Though that rule had been strictly cited to him, he couldn't help but noticed that he still talked to the kid, and the kid did respond to him, just not so fondly.

Seth let out a feeble sigh. There was no ignoring the helpless feeling eating away at him. Though he had just slept, he felt tired, weak, and abandoned. Despite the knowledge burned into his mind that his family would never, over any circumstance, abandon him, he still couldn't help the sentimental emotions tugging ever so slightly at his chest, like a string being pulled on by a gentle hand that didn't want to snap the thread.

It was uncomfortable, and the small tugging always came in short bursts.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Seth rubbed his arms to warm himself. He wouldn't accept this. no talking to people? He couldn't just do that. It was against almost everything he stood for. He needed people. He needed to talk to people. To make friends. To feel like he's with someone. To have the comfort of knowing he wasn't alone. To have help and to be able to help someone. It was in his blood.

He shifted on his bed, his chains rattling in protest, and poked his head over the edge of it so he was looking upside-down at the boy underneath his mattress. The kid's eyes were closed, but he knew he wasn't asleep. His breathing wasn't steady enough and he had just barely laid down.

"Hey," Seth whispered.

The kid didn't stir.

"Hey," Seth repeated, a little louder than he had preferred.

The boy groaned in annoyance and looked at Seth's face with eyes that showed such tired irritation.

Seth flashed him his signature smile. "You don't have to talk to me, but I at least want to introduce myself. I'm Seth." He reached his arm toward the boy in a greeting gesture, not really confidant that the raven haired kid would take his hand, but still giving it a shot.

As expected, the boy didn't give Seth the satisfaction of a handshake. Instead he huffed and rolled over, facing away from Seth's friendly gaze.

Seth cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, uh, how old are you?"

The boy gave no response.

"I'm going to guess sixteen or seventeen," Seth said confidently. "Unless you're a unicorn. Then I'm going to guess somewhere in your hundreds. Maybe more." He almost snickered at his own guess, making him think about when he first met Bracken. The memory making his smile turn into one of longing.

Again, the boy said nothing. But he did huff in acknowledgment, showing that he was not only paying attention, but hoping Seth would stop and mind his own business.

To which Seth did not do. "Since you weren't so keen on giving me a name before," He said. "I'll just guess." The young Sorenson sat back up and rolled onto his back, no longer looking down at the boy as he spoke. "You look kind of like a Jackson to me. Or maybe a Nathan. Drew? Oh! Wynn is a good one too." He chuckled to himself, a part of him kind of hoping that the boy will become agitated enough with the guessing game and just tell him his name.

"Actually," Seth went on. "I think I'll call you Jet, for the color of your hair." He said, feeling content with himself. He wasn't the best at coming up with name. All of the ones he had tested were names that belonged to old friends he had back in school. Friends he doesn't entirely miss.

The boy below Seth growled with distaste.

"Okay, not Jet." Seth said quickly. "How about Swing, ya know? For the mood swing you just had?"

Nothing came in response to Seth's title.

Seth sighed. "Swing it is." He rubbed his left eye as his mind tried to come up with something else to say to the boy, but he couldn't force himself to figure out anything. At least, anything that didn't involve more questions. Questions that wouldn't be answered.

Seth Clenched his fists. That didn't matter. One way or another he would become friends with this person, weather that'd meant one way conversations for the rest of his life, or awkward staring. He wasn't going friendless during his time in this dusty prison. The mere idea of such a thing would never be accepted. He will win over this stubborn teenager. He will.