116 AC
Yeah, so about leaving this shithole, that was a fucking joke, turns out it's a lot harder to escape a place when they're paying extra attention to you. I turned six today, I think tonight's the night everything happens. Mara's mood has shifted, If she was cold and distant before, you can be damn sure she's changed now with that ugly ass smile she gives me every time she looks my way.
I kept count of the days, scratched them into the stone wall in my cage, with a rusted nail until it snapped and my fingers bled, hurt like hell.
Six years in this hole, I haven't lost hope, but I do find it kind of funny, just how bad my luck's been. It's actually pretty depressing, now that I think about it.
And the dreams.
They never stopped, every night, the same dragon, ancient, torn wings, jagged scales like obsidian, and eyes burning like a green flame. It always circled me, roaring so loud I'd wake up choking on my own breath.
Then came the girl.
She started showing up in the dreams a year ago, she looked older than me, but barely, pale skin, silver white hair like mine, eyes like polished amethyst, she never said a word just stood there. Kind of creepy, if I'm being honest.
I don't know who she is, and I don't really care enough to ask.
I've also noticed something just as strange as the dreams that keep flooding my mind, something I can't explain in words, the fire, the candles mara holds when she comes into my cage to feed me, the torches lining the walls, always burning, casting light into the otherwise dark hall and the brazier in the centre of it all. It's like the fire is connected to me, I want to touch it, damn, I sound crazy, maybe I am a little bit.
But I have indeed felt it for some time now, ever since that drunk guard started a fire and the flames reached my cage, I didn't feel panic in that moment, no scorching heat, just warmth, a comforting feeling, so I sat there and let it touch me.
That's when I realized I don't burn, fire doesn't do anything to me, I'm pretty sure I'm immune to it, how is beyond me, but I'm certain it has something to do with the blood running through my veins.
I also trained like hell during this time, no breaks, no mercy on my muscles or bones, every day was a grind, I ate whatever they spared, which wasn't much, just enough to keep me moving, never enough to feel full.
My body's nothing like the average kid's my age. I've got a lean frame, compact muscle packed tight across my bones, I'm tall, taller than probably any six year old, that's for sure, and my arms gods, I've got strong fucking arms, I can tell you that, for a six year old, I'm built like a weapon.
I snap back to reality, pulled from my thoughts by the sound of boots stomping hard against stone. They're getting closer, and I'm pretty sure my grand, kingly entourage is here to escort me to my magnificent castle, I wish.
A group of five eventually stops at my cage.
"This the one?" asked a tall, slender man, his voice smooth but sharp.
I looked at the people with him, two guards, my handler, and of course, the one and only mara, crazy how the closest thing I've had to a mother in this place is the same person I'm pretty sure is about to sell me off to some fat pig.
"Yes, that's the pretty haired little dragon," one of the guards said, nodding toward my cage.
"Is he healthy? I can't see him back there," the man said, narrowing his eyes like he was inspecting something.
"Boy," he said again, voice colder now, "step into the light."
Honestly, I should've just done what he asked, but where's the fun in that, you've got to find enjoyment wherever you can in a place like this and honestly fuck these people, telling me what to do like I'm some dog.
"No," I said, voice still squeaky, I'm six, after all.
One of the guards stepped forward, face twisted in irritation. "Oi, bastard, come here now, or I come in there."
I stared back, defiant. "Fuck you," I said, in the most unintimidating tone imaginable.
That was enough.
The guard unlocked the cage with a clank of iron and stormed in, I tried to scramble back, but there was nowhere to go. He grabbed me by the arm, yanked me off the ground like I weighed nothing, and dragged me out into the hallway.
My feet scraped against the stone as I was hauled in front of the tall, slender man. He looked down at me, eyes scanning like he was inspecting livestock.
He had a face not even a mother could love, sharp angles, sunken cheeks, and eyes that looked like they'd forgotten how to blink.
"Hmm," he murmured. "Pretty tall for a six year old, don't think the buyer will like that, but the hair and eyes are real, must be a Targaryen bastard, looks unusually strong, I see you've been feeding him well, good, that'll do."
Ah, fuck me I got a real freak here, pretty tall for a six year old, so your high value customer might not be thrilled, what the hell is going on, are you telling me the big milestone for turning six is getting sold off, although, to be honest what else did I expect.
Mara stood off to the side, watching with that same twisted smile she'd been wearing all day.
"Bind him and make sure you cover his head," the slender man said, as he was turning away.
I didn't even get a chance to say anything before the guards were on me. One grabbed my arms, the other forced a rough cloth over my eyes, I kicked, twisted and bit anything to make it hard for them, but they were too strong, I was just a kid, and they knew exactly how to handle me.
I hit the ground hard, chest first, the impact knocking the air clean out of my lungs. For a moment, I couldn't breathe, just gasped like a fish on dry land, one of them pressed a knee into my back while the other tied my wrists tight behind me.
Then came the gag, a filthy strip of cloth shoved between my teeth and tied tight behind my head. No more talking, no more biting, just muffled grunts and the taste of dust and finally, a hood, thick, scratchy, pulled down over my head to hide what I assume to be my hair, the things that made me valuable.
Then they hauled me to my feet, rough hands gripping my arms like I was some sack of grain, one of the guards lifted me up over his shoulder, and started walking.
I could hear everything.
The pits were alive tonight, voices echoed off the walls, shouting, laughing, screaming, metal clanged against metal. Somewhere nearby, someone was crying. Somewhere else, someone was cheering, it was chaos, and it was normal.
I couldn't see, but I could feel the heat of the torches as we passed, I could smell sweat, blood, and something burning.
Then I heard it, a massive gate creaking open, groaning like it hadn't been used in years, a rush of air hit me, cooler but still filthy, I knew for sure.
We were outside the pits now.
A cart rolled up, its wheels crunching over gravel.
I heard Mara's voice, "As promised," she said.
The handler chuckled. "High value, just like you asked."
"Two hundred for the boy," the slender man said, tossing a leather pouch toward the handler.
The handler caught it, weighed it in his palm, then grinned. "Pleasure doing business."
"And for you," the man added, turning to mara, he handed her a smaller pouch, but still heavy enough to make her eyes gleam.
She smiled, ugly and satisfied. "He's worth every coin, you'll see."
One of the guards dragged me closer to the cart and hoisted me up, I felt the rough wood scrape against my side as he threw me into the back, landing hard on my shoulder. A thick blanket was tossed over me.
Someone climbed in after, they sat beside me, one hand pressing down on my back, keeping me still. I tried to squirm, but the bindings were tight, and the gag made it impossible to yell, all I could do was breathe and listen.
"Move it," the slender, man shouted.
The cart started to roll.
Six years in the pit, finally out but not free, just passed from one set of hands to another. I'm really fucking tired of people doing whatever they want with me and treating me different just because I have what rare features and dragon blood, curse this blood of mine.