I yawned the morning sun streamed through the trees, hitting my face, once again that is affective as finding out one was sleeping on a panther. I sat up sleepily, stretching and yawning. I looked around the clearing, the fire from last light gave off little smoke as if it had been extinguished an hour before. The ground was empty not a soul in sight except for me and the black panther…. Wait that wasn't right their was supposed to be someone….
HOLY CRAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP ! "WAKE UP SLINK TEAR DITCHED US!!!" The sun was high enough for it to bother me, that meant that it was about 10 or 11 o'clock. Shit how much time had passed. How much time did I have to intervene and stop Tear from trying to kill Van and then getting herself blow away to a far away land.
"How could she have ditched us. I would have woken the moment she had got up!" He said as he got to his feet, shaking him self to wake up.
"She must have used one of Yulia's Hymns on us. To keep us asleep or something." I said lamely, " The fire look like it has been out for awhile so she must have a great head-start." I kicked the firepit in frustration, why couldn't things just go like they were supposed to. Well I guess they kinda were but still, I'm just trying to help for the good!
"From the look of where we are we have about another hour of walking down to the base of Baticul, then we still have to get up to the top."
"We better get going if she left that long ago then we are going to be hard pressed to reach her."
Slink gave me a mischievous look. "Race you to the bottom." And with that he as off like a shot.
"Hey!"
---
Patrick groaned, his eyes attempting to pry themselves open, he winced when the light stung his eyes, blinding him from seeing his surroundings. "What the hell." He squinted, allowing his eyes to ajust to the room. The next time he opened his eyes the room around him spun, causing him to become even more sick then he already felt. Finally he managed to open his watering eyes, the smell was horrendous. It smelt like several someones had gone to the bathroom and refused to clean up. He was still fighting down the urge to hurl.
The cool metal against his wrists told him that he had large cuffs around his wrists, he tried to stand and soon found out how heavy they were. Patrick took in his surrounding in more detail. He was at the back of a long cell, an old fashion one like they had in those Pirates of the Caribbean, and the medieval times. A large lock held the door secure, more of a deterrent to escape. Patrick twisted to look behind himself, he instantly regretted it.
His mouth opened in a silent scream, a corpse, which also just happened to be the source of the horrendous smell, sat staring at him with empty eye sockets. Worse still he had been lying on the corpse so not only had it's stench contributed to the scent of his clothes but also it had ruined his clothes beyond repair.
As Patrick finally succumbed to the urge to empty what ever was remaining in his stomach, he heard a noise coming from out side the cell to where he guessed the entrance was. A heavy click-clanking of steps and metal meeting metal. He looked up at the guy out side of the door.
"Awake are you? What the hell were you thinking breaking into my room." The guy said.
Patrick looked him over. He had to still be a teenager but he had the gruff voice of someone way older then that, long blood red hair cascaded down his back falling to just past his waist he had a sword in a scabbard at his side. Heavy cloth-like armor hung from his shoulders, hiding most of his clothes with the exception of his legs from the knees down and arms. Though those too were covered, his arms with long sleeves with weird hearts at the hands and black finger gloves, legs with stockings and his boots looked like they were made of some type of heavy metal.
Patrick gaped. The guy was the type of person that one would expect to show up in some anime magazine not in real life. "What the hell is going on?!"
"That's what I want to know." The red hair guy was pissed. "I will repeat myself only once more. What the hell were doing in my room?"
"How the heck should I know! Where am I? Who the hell are you? Is this some kind of Canded Camera thing*?" Patrick looked around wildly, the unfamiliar setting, this weird guy and the skeleton, it was all to hard to believe. He stood on shaky legs the cuffs weighing him down, he moved to the front of the cell and dropped to his knees again. "Well you can all come out now! I'm laughing, no really! Hahahaha!"
The guy crouched down and took in the state of the sorry looking boy. Blond hair matted with bits of blood and vomit from when they had tossed him into the cell, his clothes were as bad as his hair, covered with dirt and vomit. The red head sighed. "What's your name?"
Patrick blinked up at him, "This is a dream." He said in denile. "I'm just going to fall asleep and wake up back home. That's all- OW! What was that for!" The red headed guy had just reached through the bars and slapped him upside the head.
"Did it hurt?"
"Of course it hurt! Slapping a person normally does things like that!"
"Well then your not dreaming. So stop it with the attidue and answer my questions."
Patrick grmiced. "My name is Patrick Gibson. I'm from canada, and I have no clue why I was in your room." The other teen grunted. "Who are you?"
"Asch the Bloody, Captian to the sixth division."
"Captian? You can't be any older then me. How are you a captian."
Asch strightened up. "Various reasons." He said distancly, then turning back. "Where's Canada?"
Patrick groaned. Forgners could at least be a little less ingorant. "North America? Right about the United States? Sound familiar?"
Asch's frown deepened, "Where's that? I've nevr heard of it before."
Now it was Patrick's turn to frown. "The US is huge how can you not have heard of it before. Where are we now?"
"Darth."
"A little more spific. What country?"
"Darth is it's own country, sorta, it belongs to the Order of Loralie it is a nutral country."
"I've never heard of either of those." Asch studied Patrick. "What do I have a third nostral or something?"
"How can you never have heard of Darth, it's practically a focal point of religion." He though for another moment, then dug his hand into his pocket and pulled up a ring of keys. "Your coming with me," he said twirling the key ring on his finger, "as long as you promise not to run or make a scene.
"Fine, fine! Anything to get out of this place." Patrick said, glancing at the skelton.
"I don't even know why they put you down here. It's genrally reserved for high ranked prisoners." He said unlocking the door, then the shackles. Asch glared at Patrick. "No funny business." The blond nodded. "Let's go then."
Well then that's another chapter done! Sorry it took so long to get out and it's kinda short at that! I'l try to be quicker but shit happens and spilling that cup of tea on my laptop was NOT in the plans!
~BxP