Chapter seven

Disclaimer: I do not own Blue Dragon

Zola awoke to the first rays of the rising sun shining on her face. As consciousness slowly returned, her first thought was that she needed far more sleep than he had gotten. Quite frankly, she felt like she'd been trampled by a flock of cockatrice. But as she blinked her eyes open, the memories of last night resurfaced and she knew there was no returning to sleep.

She opened her eyes and reflexively raised her uninjured arm, to shield them from the bright sunlight, which cast long, black shadows across the camp, as she took in her whereabouts. She was sitting, leaning against the side of a tall cliff, dagger in hand.

As she took in her surroundings, she instantly saw Christopher lying across the small camp, under a blanket, apparently asleep, the bonfire had long since gone out and the tethered camels were silently grazing on the scarce vegetation. As her gaze drifted across the camp, she found Alistair sitting near the remnants of the fire, staring straight at her. He was absolutely silent, but his expression told her all she needed to know: poorly hidden hostility and distrust were plastered over his features, his stern gaze locked onto her. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, in a clear display of hostility and defensiveness (not that she blamed him for his distrust). He was evidently on guard duty, but rather than facing away from camp, he was facing her directly, evidently considering her a far greater threat than their pursuers.

Suddenly, the man let out a quiet exhale, like he needed to do something he really rather wouldn't. "You should eat" He said, his voice rough and tired, like he hadn't slept, which was likely the case as him and Christopher had apparently both kept watch over night, to make sure no one outside -or rather inside- the camp attacked them.

Zola was about to respond, when she registered movement in her peripheral vision; and turned to see Christopher sit up calmly and nodd at Alistair before he looked over at Zola.

"Have you eaten yet?" He asked, in a far kinder tone than his partner had used just a moment ago. "There won't be time to stop and rest for lunch, we need to eat now before we leave"

Alistair answered in her stead "She just woke up a few minutes ago, all we have left is dried meat and cold soup."

"Then soup will do" Christopher nodded as he began packing away his bedroll as Alistair retrieved a set of cups from his luggage and began to pour an orangish liquid from the pot that still hung over their firepit. He got up and handed Christopher and then Zola a cup and she took care to take it without touching his hand.

She didn't drink it immediately, and instead took a precautious whiff, noticing that it had a peculiar smell to it, that she couldn't quite place. A visual inspection on the cloudy broth however didn't give her much information about its ingredients either. All she could tell, was that the green bits floating in it came from an herb locals often used to add spice to their traditionally bland meals. Either way, she was less worried about the ingredients, than about other things that might have been mixed into the soup. After all, she had come close to killing one of these men yesterday and given how little she knew about them, she could not afford to let her guard down.

Alistair who was evidently still watching her every move, decided to comment: "It's not poisoned."

"Then you won't mind drinking it first, will you?" She responded coldly, prompting Alistair to downright glare at her. Before he could snap back at her, Christopher intervened:

"You are wise not to trust strangers like us, but please believe me; you are far more valuable to us alive than dead. We have a deal after all, and neither one of us can afford to back out of it." He said sternly, before taking a large sip of the hot brew in his cup. Zola then locked her eyes on Alistair, who after a moments hesitancy, and obvious disdain, drank from his cup too.

"What exactly is your plan then?" Zola asked, looking back to Christopher.

"There's a small village, about a day's ride north of here, hopefully, there will be a doctor there who-"

"No." Zola interrupted, in a hard tone. "It's too dangerous, neither of us can afford to go anywhere near civilization at the moment. There will be a substantial bounty on your heads too by now."

Christopher raised an eyebrow at Zola and gestured to her injured Hand, which she was cradling in her lap in an attempt to keep it as still. "You need professional help and there's only so much we can do"

But Zola didn't back down: "I can deal with it until we leave the country, it's not worth the risk of getting caught."

She could tell that Christopher was not about to let the matter go, so she continued. "This is not up for discussion."

Christopher, gave her a stern look before he got up and said "We'll see about that, but for now, we need to get going; the longer we stay here, the sooner they'll find us"

Zola was growing increasingly agitated, as the camels every move sent her swaying back and forth, causing ever increasing discomfort for her injured hand which she was finding difficult to keep still, under the circumstances.

They had formed a line, with Christopher riding at the front, followed closely by Zola while Alistair, whom she knew was watching her like a hawk, rode behind her. Christopher had fastened a long rope from the reigns of Zola's camel to the saddle of his own, ensuring that she couldn't simply ride off the moment he got distracted.

In order to distract herself and to get a better sense of whom she was dealing with, she used the time to analyze Christopher more closely: despite the fact that they had been riding nonstop for approximately 9 hours, his posture was still perfect and she hadn't seen him slouch or even wipe the sweat off his brow even once. Even though she had only met the man last night and he had given her virtually no personal information about himself, Christopher's body language spoke volumes.

His fluid and calculated movements, the slight raising of his chin when he spoke and his utterly calm reaction to the dangerous situation he had been in yesterday, were very similar to how she normally acted, but there was more to it than that: He expressed a kind of pride and power in the way he carried himself, which strongly reminded her of all the nobility she'd met with in the past few years. Though as opposed to them, he seemed to lack the typical arrogance and self-righteousness that usually accompanied power and wealth.

Whoever this man was, she was sure, he enjoyed a very high status, despite the dirty work he was doing. Or, at the very least, he'd been part of a noble family who'd lost their power and privileges and was now forced to earn money, rather than have it handed to them via inheritance or taxation.

As time went on, her thoughts became less focused, as the fact that she hadn't managed to sleep nearly as long as she'd needed to, became ever more apparent. She gazed towards the sun, noting that its descent had already begun. She knew once it disappeared behind the horizon, staying awake would become significantly more difficult.

Preoccupied by thoughts of the grueling hours to come, she allowed herself a heavy sigh and closed her eyes for just a moment.

Her first thought, was that she felt refreshed; no pain, no fatigue, no sense of imminent danger. It felt like she'd finally woken up after another horrifying nightmare. She took a deep breath to relax, but before she'd even opened her eyes, she knew something was off. The air smelt… sterile; like a toxic mixture of disinfectant and cleaning chemicals; a smell she knew all too well from all the Laboratories she'd worked in.

Zola suddenly blinked her eyes open in confusion as she took in her surroundings. The first thing she saw was a cracked, white ceiling that felt utterly unfamiliar. She knew she wasn't inside her quarters in the capital, nor in the Galleon and she wasn't inside a cell either. Confused, she sat up and turned to her right to where the bright light shone through two large windows. Outside, palm trees swayed in the wind and behind them, she could make out the vague outlines of mountains in the distance.

As Zola turned to her left, she saw Alistair sitting in a chair, once again watching her. This time though, he didn't seem hostile. If anything, he seemed worried and he spoke, before she could even ask what had happened. "How are you feeling?"

She blinked, surprised by his complete change in demeanor, but ignored his question none the less. "Where am I?" She demanded, realizing that her voice sounded far less hoarse than it had the last time she'd spoken.

"We're in a small hospital in Lago village. " Alistair explained calmly and continued before she could ask the obvious question "You blacked out after we left the canyons, so we brought you here. The doctor said you should be fine once you've rested for a while. Your wounds are dressed, he fixed and braced your arm. They figure you passed out due to fatigue and dehydration."

Zola looked down at herself and finally realized, there was a cast around her arm. It was an old fashioned one, which severely restricted her range of movement. She would have to make due somehow, but it would put her in a vulnerable position in case of a fight. Her sense of unease began to grow; there was a good reason why she had explicitly told them she wouldn't go anywhere near a doctor and people in general. Dreading what she'd find, she used her healthy hand to feel between her shoulder blades and sure enough, she felt the rough fabric of a large square bandage. Oh, gods no!

"How long was I out?" She asked Alistair in alarm.

"Two days" he answered, surprised by her sudden alertness and after seeing her openly horrified expression added: "We're in a remote village, completely cut off from civilization and so far, we've found no evidence of any pursuers, there's no need to worry."

"We need to get out of here now!" Zola hissed in a low voice, as she got up so quickly, Alistair blinked in surprise at how she'd gone from comatose to jumping off the bed in a matter of seconds.

"You shouldn't be getting up yet, you're in no state-"

"I need clothes!" She interrupted, realizing it would be impossible to fight in the hospital gown she was wearing.

"There's a pile of clothes on the nightstand, but you really need to rest before we move on."

"We don't have time!" She replied and turned to pick up the clothes and swiftly spread them out on the bed. Everything was colored similarly to the sandy tones, the two men wore, which would help her blend into the landscape and they had bought a variety of sizes in the hopes that something would fit. Zola grabbed what she needed and what she guessed would fit and disappeared into the bathroom connected to the main room, leaving behind a rather confused Alistair.

She emerged from the bathroom two minutes later, dressed in hiking boots, cargo pants, a jacket and a shawl covering her conspicuous white hair.

"Why are you still sitting there, they could be here any minute, for all we know troops are surrounding the town right now!" She hissed at Alistair who was still calmly sitting in his chair.

"These people have no electricity, and the closest military outpost to this village is the one we got you out of, which is just under a week's ride away from here"

"They have carrier pigeons!"

"Which leads me to my second point; we made sure the only people to see you were the doctor and his nurses, there is no possible way these people could know you were a prisoner."

There was no time to explain her dilemma to this stubborn man, so she just downright lied: "I've been here before; these people know me and they know I was arrested with absolutely no chance of a pardon or even a trial. And now suddenly I'm back, covered in injuries, accompanied by two highly suspicious strangers who clearly aren't from around here. Just because they don't have access to modern technology does not mean that these people are stupid."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Alistair practically growled, finally realizing the danger they were in and getting out of the chair. "We told you we were coming to this village and you didn't say a thing!"

"I told you explicitly that I couldn't have this doctor tend to my injuries, and you brought me here anyway!"

"Don't you dare place the blame on us, you kept vital information from us and put us all in danger!"

"I don't have time to argue with you; the army is underway and I'm not going to sit here and wait until we caught." She hissed and headed towards the window behind Alistair, where she glanced outside, making sure there were no people around.

"I'm leaving and if you want to live I suggest you do the same" She stated and propped her healthy hand up on the windowsill before she swung her legs over the edge and jumped.

Author's notes:

Sorry that it took so long, but life's been a bit hectic plus I've spent what time I had messing with the old chapters that will get updated at some point.

Anyway, if you liked this chapter, please leave a review 😊.