I don’t know how long I slept but I feel refreshed as I open my eyes. That is, before all my senses catch up with my head. Now as I look up I see strange black lines illuminated through blue light. My back feels stiff as I experimentally roll my shoulders. I shouldn’t have slept sitting down. Slowly, I look around, taking in the changes in the landscape. What was once dappled sunlight has now changed to sparse blue light. Glancing up, the sky was definitely dark, meaning that it had to be night. But this blue light… could it be from the moon? Then again, with everything that’s happened in the past day, a blue moon wouldn’t be all that shocking. Ironically, the moonlight was just as bright as the sunlight. If sky was dark, maybe I was wrong about it being white. Maybe it was just the normal sky with lots of overcast. I don’t know, I’ll have to save this debate for later because as my gaze drifts back down to the blue ground I notice something else that’s changed. Shirtless is gone. With as many injuries that he had he should still be laying where I left him, resting. I have no idea where this idiot went off to but he must be in pain. Scratch that, I hope he’s in pain. I used all of my bandages on him and he probably is ruining them by moving around so much. Now I notice that I don’t see Blood Horse anymore either. What if he went off and abandoned me in this creepy forest? I don’t remember all the twists and turns we took to get in here, there’s no way I’m going to find my way out. My pack only has enough food for a couple days, I’ll starve before I figure a way out of here. That is if he left my pack. My eyes hunt for the bulky image of it in the dark. Even in the darkness it didn’t take my eyes too long to spot its familiar shape. The black color of my bag was slightly lighter than the natural darkness of the night. I let out a relieved sigh knowing that at least I have that. Figuring I’ll go over to get it, I start to move. It’s only now that I notice that both my hands and feet are bound in front of me. They weren’t so tight as to cause pain, but these bonds were definitely keeping me together. What in the hell? I know that it is some people’s dream to be tied up but I am not one of them. The harder I struggle against the ropes the tighter they seem to get around my wrists and ankles. Actually it almost feels like they are tightening themselves. The more I struggle the smaller the doubt comes in my mind. Tighter and tighter, the tips of my fingers are tingling now. I’m starting to lose feeling. It’s too tight. It’s too goddamn tight! I hear this loud panting noise and it takes me a moment to realize that it’s coming from me. I can’t stop, what if I never get out of this? Who would tie me up? Did Blondie and Gruff Voice find us? Is that why Shirtless is gone? Did they just leave me here to die and take him back for his execution? This may just be a dream but I’m not ready to find out what happens if you die. No, this can’t be it. This will not be it, there has got to be something I can use to get out of these ropes. Maybe if I crawl over to my bag I’ll find something that I can use. Anything would be helpful. I start to shift my body forward, hunching over my thighs as I bring my feet in towards my body. Just as I’m about to lean forward to put my forearms on the ground I see the glow of a light all around me. I shift my gaze forward towards the pair of dark boots to the side of me. I sit back on my haunches as my gaze travels up a pair of long legs dressed in a pale tan fabric up to a bare, marred chest covered in white gauze and medical tape, up to a stern analytical gaze. His eyes remind me of the talons, so dark that I wonder if he even has any irises. I didn’t realize I had been staring until he finally spoke. Hearing the gentle timber of his voice sends a shudder through my body. By the annoyed look on his face, I’m guessing he said something that required a response. Guess I should have been focusing more on what his voice said than what it sounded like. Luckily, par his annoyance, he repeats himself. “Who are you?” His words are as serious as his expression. Looks like even though I saved his life he still doesn’t trust me. Now it was my turn to be annoyed. “I think that’s my question to ask. Who are you, and why did you tie me up after I saved your life?” It may have been a question but I am definitely demanding an answer. And by the look on his face he doesn’t seem inclined to give me one. Instead, his eyes travel down my body. I feel so self-conscious under his intense gaze that my body instinctively huddles in on itself. That must have been a sign for him because he finally returns his gaze to mine. “You’re not from here,” an observation not a question. “Why are you here?” “Because I couldn’t get up to go over there,” I gesture towards my pack with my head. “I’m sort of incapacitated.” I’m sure he noticed my pointed tone but he chooses to ignore it. He just stares at me more with those onyx eyes. “Answer me straight, why are you here?” His annoyance was starting to seep into his voice. Good. He deserves to be annoyed for tying me up. “I’m not going to answer any of your questions until you let me go,” I made sure that my stubbornness was evident enough so he couldn’t ignore that. My efforts definitely hit the mark when he let out a frustrated sigh and glares at me more. Perhaps it hit the mark too well because he crouches down, his one hand holding a lit torch as he leaned in towards my face. I felt his free hand reach up and take hold of my chin as I freeze under his intense gaze. This close, I finally start noticing things about his face. He has a strong, square jawline. I can just make out a hint of a stubble forming low on his on his cheeks, paired with high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes. His hair is long for a guy, the dark brown tendrils almost touched his shoulders. His nose is too straight to have ever been broken and his full lips are pressed into a grim line. I wonder what they look like when he smiles. He’d probably be handsome if he tried that, but he seems pretty skilled at being serious. My inspection of his face did not go unnoticed. When my eyes lock back on his I realize that he had been watching me inspect him the whole time. I don’t know why but that made my cheeks heat up a bit. Even at that he raises his slender eyebrow just a hair. Why did he have to notice absolutely everything!? I let out an annoyed grunt but didn’t get to voice my feelings because he turns my head. With my head facing left, my neck and right shoulder are pulled into view. Whatever he was looking for he must not have found because he pulls his hand back as quickly as he had grasped my chin originally. As I turn my head back I can feel a strange sensation in my hands. The rope was loosening and the blood starts to flow back into my fingers. I watch in amazement as the rope begins to grow longer and looser, creating more and more space for my hands until I can easily slip them out of the rope. The same has happened for my ankles. After freeing myself I look back up, only to see that Shirtless has gone over to the middle of the small clearing we were in and is working on a fire. He lights a piece of moss with the torch in his hand. I expect the fire to spread over the whole ground because it is all covered in moss, but somehow the fire is staying where he lit it. Where ever he touches his torch to, that piece of moss catches fire but it somehow stays contained. Soon he had a decent sized fire going that he leaves the edge of the torch in. Stretching my sore limbs I get up and go over to my pack. My ankles and wrists feel an aching pain every time I use them but I push through it as I hoist my pack up. I make my way over to the fire, suddenly feeling how cold I am as I’m confronted by its heat. Even though it’s small, I use the fire to put space between me and him by sitting on the opposite side. I can feel him looking at me over the flames but I pointedly concentrate on warming my hands. “Daric,” he says it so suddenly that I when I look up at him I wonder if I he actually said anything at all. “I’m sorry?” I ask partly to question if he actually said anything, and if so what did he actually say. “My name is Daric,” his brief elaboration suddenly brings sense back into the conversation. He emphasizes his name slowly, drawing out the syllables, Dah reek. An introduction, funny how something so common now feels so odd. Everything else today has been so strange, I don’t feel prepared for something so ordinary. “I’m Lyra, Lyra Gupta,” now back in a normal conversation, I expect to hear the follow up phrase ‘what a unique name’ or ‘I’ve never heard that name before’. The struggle of having a name not on a top ten list. But he doesn’t say any of that. He doesn’t look at me strangely or give any remark. He simply repeats my name. “Lyra,” the way he says my name in the smooth timbre of his voice makes me want to close my eyes and just listen. Most people pronounce my name like Lee-ra or even Ler-a, or just say screw it and call me Lara, but his strange accent transformed my strange name into something almost lyrical. He pronounced it Lie- ra, giving the end a slight emphasis. I never knew that someone else could make my name sound so good. “Welcome back.”
Ironically, the moonlight was just as bright as the sunlight. If sky was dark, maybe I was wrong about it being white. Maybe it was just the normal sky with lots of overcast. I don’t know, I’ll have to save this debate for later because as my gaze drifts back down to the blue ground I notice something else that’s changed. Shirtless is gone. With as many injuries that he had he should still be laying where I left him, resting. I have no idea where this idiot went off to but he must be in pain. Scratch that, I hope he’s in pain. I used all of my bandages on him and he probably is ruining them by moving around so much.
Now I notice that I don’t see Blood Horse anymore either. What if he went off and abandoned me in this creepy forest? I don’t remember all the twists and turns we took to get in here, there’s no way I’m going to find my way out. My pack only has enough food for a couple days, I’ll starve before I figure a way out of here. That is if he left my pack. My eyes hunt for the bulky image of it in the dark. Even in the darkness it didn’t take my eyes too long to spot its familiar shape. The black color of my bag was slightly lighter than the natural darkness of the night. I let out a relieved sigh knowing that at least I have that.
Figuring I’ll go over to get it, I start to move. It’s only now that I notice that both my hands and feet are bound in front of me. They weren’t so tight as to cause pain, but these bonds were definitely keeping me together. What in the hell? I know that it is some people’s dream to be tied up but I am not one of them. The harder I struggle against the ropes the tighter they seem to get around my wrists and ankles. Actually it almost feels like they are tightening themselves.
The more I struggle the smaller the doubt comes in my mind. Tighter and tighter, the tips of my fingers are tingling now. I’m starting to lose feeling. It’s too tight. It’s too goddamn tight! I hear this loud panting noise and it takes me a moment to realize that it’s coming from me. I can’t stop, what if I never get out of this? Who would tie me up? Did Blondie and Gruff Voice find us? Is that why Shirtless is gone? Did they just leave me here to die and take him back for his execution?
This may just be a dream but I’m not ready to find out what happens if you die. No, this can’t be it. This will not be it, there has got to be something I can use to get out of these ropes. Maybe if I crawl over to my bag I’ll find something that I can use. Anything would be helpful. I start to shift my body forward, hunching over my thighs as I bring my feet in towards my body. Just as I’m about to lean forward to put my forearms on the ground I see the glow of a light all around me. I shift my gaze forward towards the pair of dark boots to the side of me. I sit back on my haunches as my gaze travels up a pair of long legs dressed in a pale tan fabric up to a bare, marred chest covered in white gauze and medical tape, up to a stern analytical gaze. His eyes remind me of the talons, so dark that I wonder if he even has any irises.
I didn’t realize I had been staring until he finally spoke. Hearing the gentle timber of his voice sends a shudder through my body. By the annoyed look on his face, I’m guessing he said something that required a response. Guess I should have been focusing more on what his voice said than what it sounded like. Luckily, par his annoyance, he repeats himself.
“Who are you?” His words are as serious as his expression. Looks like even though I saved his life he still doesn’t trust me. Now it was my turn to be annoyed.
“I think that’s my question to ask. Who are you, and why did you tie me up after I saved your life?” It may have been a question but I am definitely demanding an answer. And by the look on his face he doesn’t seem inclined to give me one. Instead, his eyes travel down my body. I feel so self-conscious under his intense gaze that my body instinctively huddles in on itself. That must have been a sign for him because he finally returns his gaze to mine.
“You’re not from here,” an observation not a question. “Why are you here?”
“Because I couldn’t get up to go over there,” I gesture towards my pack with my head. “I’m sort of incapacitated.” I’m sure he noticed my pointed tone but he chooses to ignore it. He just stares at me more with those onyx eyes.
“Answer me straight, why are you here?” His annoyance was starting to seep into his voice. Good. He deserves to be annoyed for tying me up.
“I’m not going to answer any of your questions until you let me go,” I made sure that my stubbornness was evident enough so he couldn’t ignore that. My efforts definitely hit the mark when he let out a frustrated sigh and glares at me more. Perhaps it hit the mark too well because he crouches down, his one hand holding a lit torch as he leaned in towards my face. I felt his free hand reach up and take hold of my chin as I freeze under his intense gaze. This close, I finally start noticing things about his face. He has a strong, square jawline. I can just make out a hint of a stubble forming low on his on his cheeks, paired with high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes. His hair is long for a guy, the dark brown tendrils almost touched his shoulders. His nose is too straight to have ever been broken and his full lips are pressed into a grim line. I wonder what they look like when he smiles. He’d probably be handsome if he tried that, but he seems pretty skilled at being serious.
My inspection of his face did not go unnoticed. When my eyes lock back on his I realize that he had been watching me inspect him the whole time. I don’t know why but that made my cheeks heat up a bit. Even at that he raises his slender eyebrow just a hair. Why did he have to notice absolutely everything!? I let out an annoyed grunt but didn’t get to voice my feelings because he turns my head. With my head facing left, my neck and right shoulder are pulled into view. Whatever he was looking for he must not have found because he pulls his hand back as quickly as he had grasped my chin originally. As I turn my head back I can feel a strange sensation in my hands. The rope was loosening and the blood starts to flow back into my fingers. I watch in amazement as the rope begins to grow longer and looser, creating more and more space for my hands until I can easily slip them out of the rope. The same has happened for my ankles.
After freeing myself I look back up, only to see that Shirtless has gone over to the middle of the small clearing we were in and is working on a fire. He lights a piece of moss with the torch in his hand. I expect the fire to spread over the whole ground because it is all covered in moss, but somehow the fire is staying where he lit it. Where ever he touches his torch to, that piece of moss catches fire but it somehow stays contained. Soon he had a decent sized fire going that he leaves the edge of the torch in.
Stretching my sore limbs I get up and go over to my pack. My ankles and wrists feel an aching pain every time I use them but I push through it as I hoist my pack up. I make my way over to the fire, suddenly feeling how cold I am as I’m confronted by its heat. Even though it’s small, I use the fire to put space between me and him by sitting on the opposite side. I can feel him looking at me over the flames but I pointedly concentrate on warming my hands.
“Daric,” he says it so suddenly that I when I look up at him I wonder if I he actually said anything at all.
“I’m sorry?” I ask partly to question if he actually said anything, and if so what did he actually say.
“My name is Daric,” his brief elaboration suddenly brings sense back into the conversation. He emphasizes his name slowly, drawing out the syllables, Dah reek. An introduction, funny how something so common now feels so odd. Everything else today has been so strange, I don’t feel prepared for something so ordinary.
“I’m Lyra, Lyra Gupta,” now back in a normal conversation, I expect to hear the follow up phrase ‘what a unique name’ or ‘I’ve never heard that name before’. The struggle of having a name not on a top ten list. But he doesn’t say any of that. He doesn’t look at me strangely or give any remark. He simply repeats my name.
“Lyra,” the way he says my name in the smooth timbre of his voice makes me want to close my eyes and just listen. Most people pronounce my name like Lee-ra or even Ler-a, or just say screw it and call me Lara, but his strange accent transformed my strange name into something almost lyrical. He pronounced it Lie- ra, giving the end a slight emphasis. I never knew that someone else could make my name sound so good. “Welcome back.”