The Fields of Fire

Chapter 3: Tau Adana

Tau woke up with the sun shining in her eyes, which of course, seemed odd. Because she was almost certain that she had died, and she was pretty sure that death was supposed to be dreary and depressing, not sunny and bright. Well obviously she was in heaven, she concluded optimistically. She remarked on her passed deeds and decided that heaven must have a relatively low bar of entry if she got in. Regardless of her status in the afterlife, she didn't want to wake up, so she turned over and faced the other direction. She then heard the sound of a door opening. Since she was in heaven, she figured that she was basically entitled to whatever she wanted, including good sleep. Her mind was rustled further awake by the sound of a tray hitting the wooden surface of a table next to her. Clearly, this was God, who was being a little too loud for her liking.

"Hey god, can you like, fuck off and let me sleep?" She murmured, uncaring in her dismissive attitude.

Then she heard the high pitched voice of a little boy, "Holy Crap dad! She's alive! and She uses curse words!"

Tau was confused, since when did God sound like a pre-pubescent 8-year-old? She considered if she was simply being too judgmental, maybe God just felt like relieving his childhood. Then she considered what else the boy had said, dad. God didn't have a father! That's not even possible.

She quickly opened her eyes, and lifted her head from the pillow. She assessed her surroundings. A small room, painted a tan ivory color, with one window, one door, a closet, and a nightstand with a tray of food lying on it. She heard footsteps as a man approached the door. Tau instinctively reached for her pistol, nothing. Her gun was nowhere to be found; in fact she wasn't even in her uniform.

A man walked through the door, he appeared in his thirties. He had purple eyes, and his hair was a long and silvery white, with the tips of the hair being dyed blue. She checked his ears, and saw that they weren't pointed at all. So not an elf, she concluded. He didn't seem unusually short, not a dwarf. His skin wasn't green, not an alzcan or an orc. He wasn't tiny and floating, not a fairy. He had feet instead of a fishtail, not a merfolk. So, that meant that he was human!

Tau couldn't believe her luck, they'd rescued her! Somehow some way, the Zytrians managed to pull her from the wreckage of her plane, fly her back to Zytria and save her life! So that would mean that she was in a hospital, and this man must have been her doctor. 

She decided to greet the man, and groggily introduced herself, "Hello, I'm Air Corporal Tau Adana, how long have I been out?"

"About a day," the man responded, "My name's Brandon Wentford."

Tau smirked, "That's some crazy hair you've got."

"It's actually pretty common around these parts," he leaned against the wall of the entryway, "my son said you cursed at him."

"A simple case of mistaken identity, I'm afraid. Besides, why's your son at your work anyway? Is today bring your kid to work day or something?"

Brandon looked perplexed, "Work? This is my house."

Tau was equally confused, "What the hell am I doing in your house?"

"I'd appreciate it if you refrained from curse words, my kid likes to repeat what he hears, and I don't want him going around calling his instructors shitheads or something."

"Your words not mine... Still though, why am I in your house? I'm a member of the Zytrian military, shouldn't I be in a naval hospital?"

His expression changed, "Ummmm... I'm pretty sure you don't want to be in a hospital around here."

Tau's brain fog had finally cleared up enough for her to think critically on her situation. It was virtually impossible that anyone would have come to rescue her, and even less likely that they'd keep her in someone's house. She stared at the man and realized, she was a prisoner of war. She knew what the Atherians did to prisoners, how they burned them alive then fed the freshly roasted corpses to their dragons. She looked around the room desperately searching for something she could use as a weapon.