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Niarok

Niarok watched as Ayden paced, far from the fire and clearly freezing.

There was nothing he could do about it.

He just hoped the man didn’t catch hypothermia.

All the others huddled around the fire, and wind still howled outside.

Niarok leaned his head back against the wall, relaxed enough to acknowledge how tired he was. But he wasn’t ready to sleep. He needed to do other things first.

Like think.

First of all, where had the castle gone? Or were they still in it? He hadn’t thought about it while getting attacked by strange bat creatures and talking to new people who were disturbingly similar to him.

But where were they?

The outside was clearly right there, and this had turned into a cave. But they’d heard Lord Castle’s voice, right before the snowstorm. And on top of all that, there was clearly something deeper going on. It never snowed in this region.

Niarok had almost died of dehydration in the hot sun trying to save his sister.

So where were they?

I suppose I’ll find out. 

At any rate, this place wasn’t nearly so bad as any number of other places he could have been.

Basil was still whining.

Niarok suppressed a sigh. Now he was saying something along the lines of “those rations having germs.”

If you don’t eat it, give it back to me. I can’t make them pop out of thin air.

Frustration frayed his nerves, and he sensed his temper shortening.

He needed sleep.

Desperately.

Thankfully, though, most of these people understood the concept of not overusing words.

That was nice.

Yila shifted beside him, curling deeper into the blanket. Niarok saw a tiny shiver before she scooted a little closer to the fire.

Just looking at her sleep made his exhaustion all the more potent.

He was just afraid that the second he tried to sleep, Lord Castle would throw them another curveball.

He pulled his pack around beside him and emptied out its contents, making a mental inventory of food, medicines, emergency supplies, and extra knives.

He still had all the necessities, complete with another week’s worth of rations.

What do we do when we run out?

He would have to talk to the others about that sooner than later.

Maybe after they finally stopped freezing to death.

He packed everything away and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and letting the heat from the fire soak through his body.

He wasn’t going to fall asleep until he was sure he was warm enough not to freeze in his unconsciousness.

He let himself drift, preparing to fall asleep.

“Hiya, I’m Chet Gabe.”

Niarok’s eyes snapped open and his hand instinctively went to his sword.

He had to restrain himself from drawing it, remembering the incident with Leytera.

He really didn’t need another one of those.

He kept his hand resting on the hilt and stood up.

This man had brown wavy hair. He was also taller than Niarok. And he was leading a foreign, six-legged beast behind him.

Niarok blinked several times, convincing himself he wasn’t dreaming.

There were six legs!

“Hello,” he said warily. “Where do you come from?”

The man formed several words before snapping his mouth shut.

Niarok removed his hand from the hilt.

This man wasn’t a threat, not to him at that current moment, at least.