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Isella

Isella opened her eyes and blinked. It hadn’t changed much: the world was almost as black with her eyes open as it was with them closed.

Where am I?

She tried to turn her head to look around, and memory came pounding back, through her temples and all across her limbs. They were stiff with the fall and the tussle. She shuddered at the memory of the dragon’s hideous eyes, and the steaming, fiery reek that had enveloped her a moment before she had fainted.

Stupid thing to do.

A piece of her hair was dangling in her face, sticky with sweat and ticklish. She tried to raise her hand to move it aside, but her hand would hardly move against the weight that held it down. A clanking noise in the darkness by her wrist told her what it was.

Chains; of course it is. It’s a dragon, after all.

They had always been in the legends and myths she had loved as a child, but she had never wanted to be inside one. She bent her head down to her hand and pushed the hair behind her ear. It was wet and a little gritty, and she tried hard not to think what the rest of her hair would look like.

She looked around, but nothing but blackness met her eyes. She strained her ears, hopping for any sound of her horse nearby. I hope he hasn’t…eaten him…

She pushed the thought away with a hopeful breath, but the only thing she could smell was the dragon’s hot sweat and the smell of musty gold.

Cirian would have to make his four-footed way by himself. “I hope–” she muttered, and shook herself. Now’s not the time to cry. She bit her lip; it was bleeding. She let her shoulders sag, her arms weighed down by the weight of the shackles.

Suddenly, directly in front of her, the blackness started to move. She froze. The stench of dragon breath grew stronger, and flares of blue fire punctuated the blackness.

“Welcome, visitors!” The great snake hissed. A rage of blue fire almost blinded her, and torches all along the cavern flared to life, as if the dragon were a king, inviting guest to a banquet.

Isella shivered. It will be a banquet, I’ll be served instead of waited on.

A thought struck her. It said guests.

She strained her eyes. At the far end of the cavern she could see a group of people, their faces pallid in the reeking light. They’d seen her.

“No!” She mouthed the word. She wanted to shout it, but that would only draw the dragon’s attention to them. Two, no, three broke away from the crowd and started along the righthand wall, coming toward her. The others stood to face the dragon. For the first time she saw the body of a huge red dragon lying on the ground in front of  her captor.

How did I not notice that before?

Suddenly, the dragon’s tail wrapped around her chest and she was hauled to her feet. She wrinkled her nose. The snake-like coils stank. They were warm to the touch, and she started sweating again.

Her vision knocked together and the cavern swirled in blue and black lights by the corners of her eyes. I hope Cirian got away. She tried to breath, but the smell of burning dragon sweat choked her, and her chest heaved. She could feel her eyes rolling back, and fought to stay on this side of consciousness.

My head already hurts from fainting the first time.

 

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@those characters I mentioned or someone who’d like to claim the parts. IDK if she fainted. It’s up to whoever interacts with her next, me or one of you. 🙂