98. Caleb - Flashbacks IX
“Colt, time to go hunting,” Voros wakes me before the break of dawn.
The frigid air inside the house is even colder than the previous night, and the blanket Voros gave me offers minimal warmth. Spending five months in this location will undoubtedly feel like hell. Of all the places a knight can train, why did I have to be sent to this one? A lingering sense of unease settles deep inside me, making me think something is not right. That I might have done something to displease my father and Queen Lamia, but no specific incident comes to mind, no matter how deeply I contemplate it.
Not wanting to make Voros wait, I kick the blanket to the side and get up. “If I had known I was being sent to Antarctica, I would have refused,” I vent my frustrations as I slip on my boots and coat.
Voros casually takes a sip from his mug. His clothes match his pink hair with apparent intention. “It wasn’t always like this here.”
I shoot him a puzzled look.“Don’t tell me it was worse.”
Voros snickers. “At least you have some sense of humor, wolf. Actually, from what I heard, it was some sort of paradise.”
“Oh, and who told you that?” I am not that curious, as I am not here to make friends, but having people I can rely on is worth it in the long run.
Voros studies me while he drinks from his mug.
**‘He doesn’t trust us,’** my wolf tells me.
*‘Same.’* I agree with my wolf, as many find dragons untrustworthy. *‘And it’s not like we gave him any reason to trust us. Last night, I was as cranky as an old lady who lives with at least ten cats.’*
My wolf laughs, finding my words funny. The dragon may be right, I do have a sense of humor.
I wonder if my fighting against two berserkers has anything to do with me feeling a bit…off. Berserkers, or werebears, are known for their strength. What if I hit my head so hard during the fight it threw me off my balance?
**‘But the witch gave us a healing potion,’** my wolf reminds me.
It did heal my body, but maybe not my mind. *‘What if magic was used in the fight? That would explain why my skills with a sword are so rusty.’*
**‘Perhaps,’** my wolf doesn’t agree or disagree with me.
I need to find out what happened to me during that fight, as I still can’t remember it. Maybe my memory will return to me eventually.
Voros decides to answer my question, “Shortly after I was exiled here, I met someone old enough to remember life before the great portal opened in the middle of the night, creatures from nightmares emerging from it, destroying everything in its path.”
Something about what he said sounds vaguely familiar, like a distant dream, but no matter how hard I try to remember it, it eludes me.
What are the odds of Voros talking about the nymph I helped yesterday? How long does a nymph live? Many questions run through my head, but I decide to ask, “You were exiled here?”
Voros leaves the room, and I follow him to the kitchen. Food is on the table, and this time, I don’t refuse his offer. I sit down, pick up the fork next to the plate, and take a bite from the steak. The taste is strange, but beggars can’t be choosers.
Voros puts more tea in his mug and offers one to me as well. “As you can see, I am not your normal dragon. My father expected me to be a warrior, not this fabulous being before you who is into fashion and stuff like that.”
Fabulous being?
“I don’t see anything wrong with doing what you want in life, even if that is not typical of dragons.”
“And if I say I want to design clothes?”
“As long as you don't ask me to model dresses for you, you don’t need my permission.”
A smile appears across Voros’ face. “It so happens I have a dress—”
“No,” I interrupt him, and he laughs. After eating, I stand and take the plate to the sink and clean it. “We can go when you are ready.”
Moments later, we step out of the shack. Except for a faint light coming from the dining hall’s back door, and a few torches placed around the stone wall, a blanket of darkness covers the Lastdenn. Apart from humans, who have the weakest eyes of all the other races, the rest of us can see in the dark, so artificial light is not needed at night.
“Looks like K is awake,” Voros says.
He mentioned K last night, but I didn’t bother asking who he is as I am not interested in making friends here. However, I have a strong feeling I should reconsider.
The air is so cold it chills me to the bone.
I’ve always had a hard time trusting anyone who isn’t a werewolf or a vampire, but as a knight for the vampires, maybe it is time to expand my circle of friends. Voros could have let me figure things out on my own, but he not only shared his food with me, he is taking me to his hunting grounds.
“Who is K?” I ask.