Running Away From One Thing, and Into Another.

Chapter 14: A Trap

Four months have passed me by carelessly since I have arrived here. Throughout all this time, I haven't seen any scaly beast soaring through the skies or anything. Dantem has failed to appear, as well. I have checked everyday at the Jalz Door to see if he was there. Every time I go there, Diszran follows me very closely. One time, I even asked him why he followed me every time I check for Dantem. He just shrugged, and easily replied.

“I don't want you to leave, that's all.”

That didn't comfort me much. Shouldn't I be allowed to leave whenever I please? Not trying to be a spoiled brat here, but I'm the one who can save their little world or not. Sure, my country would be at risk to the rest of the earth, but at least we wouldn't just disappear, blown up or whatever. So shouldn't I have some say in whether or not I leave, or is that just my thoughts?

You still are a slave. the voice reminds me tauntingly, even now. And you always will be one; no matter what grand title you hold. Even your own mother thought of you as a slave.

Tears sting my eyes at my haunting thoughts, but I blink them back. I have been reading for so long now. That is all I really can do, since they want me to learn every tiny detail of dragon history and Talyarian history. There are few interesting things, such as how everything in this world has a little bit of dragon in them. The animals, the people, and the plants are definitely different from the ones back home. However, I still have grown so bored; yet, there is one thing keeps me interested.

I've been allowed to explore. Even though I cannot go anywhere besides the flower gardens, the Jalz Door, and the Talyarian Palace, it keeps me from being lost in my thoughts. Though it seems there isn't much to explore, the Talyarian Palace is humungous! The Jalz Door is just one really large room with two halls on either side of you right as you enter into the building from the gardens. The halls lead to two simple rooms. A wash room is on the left hall, and at the end of the left is the bedroom. I am not allowed to sleep there, oddly enough. It doesn't really matter, since the wash up room is on the other side of the blasted building. Did it ever occur to the person who designed this building that the walk I must take from my room to the wash up room may prove to be a waste of time since I might have all ready lost my fluids by the time I reach the room? Though, I must say, even without the advanced indoor plumbing, the wash up room in the Jalz Door is grand, just like the bedroom.

Why won't they let me rest there?

Probably since they don't want me to escape. I answer myself with a shrug, thinking back to the day a few months ago to the conversation with Diszran. I shake my head, and rub my temples. I'm tired of reading, and even though I believe I have explored every room, I'm sure there is one more at least. Like the Jalz Door, the palace has the same first impression. Large room with beautiful, stone floors that shimmers in the light. Beautifully decorated walls are so prideful as they behold the admirable arts of the Talyarians. There are two halls on each side of the entering.

Though the halls are extraordinary. It is so much like the cave back at Jeroth, or the waiting house as Massetta called it. Halls that consist of many rooms that each held their own uniqueness. The only thing is that the halls made a rectangle around the large, main room. I heard they meet up at one particular room. One that I will explore today.

I lay the book aside, hoping I never have to see it again. It is very hard for me to read, so I really don't care if it gets burned. I allow a small grin to stretch my lips as I think of how Azjin would react to my statement. Her face would be horrified as she stared at me, trying to understand both the fact of how I had been deprived of this blessing, and how I would so easily give up.

A sigh departs from my mouth. How I miss the lively girl, and how I hope she is okay. I wonder how she is. If she is okay. I try not to think of her too much, out of fear. To many “what-ifs” haunt me. It is just easier to let it fall back into the dark corners of my mind where I won't find it as easily.