As Loyal as a Dog

     A fierce heel whipped his jaw to the side, clattering his chains and jerking his body in the same direction as the blow. If he bothered to put in any resistance it wouldn’t have been so exaggerated but it didn’t make a difference either way. He knew they weren’t going to kill him nor leave permanent damage, so he could take as many blows as they threw.

“Where did you send him?!” Drosera roared as she flung another kick, this time into his stomach. “WHERE!!?”

Linias’s eyes slowly met with the drakaina as he spit out the blood that pooled in his mouth, maintaining the same deadpanned scowl since his initial capture.

“Do you know what you’ve done?! If he lives to inhabit that thing–” She stopped midway, knowing that whatever words that left her mouth would just fall on deaf ears.

Sighing, Drosera tried a more moderate approach. “The least you could do is help us for the time being. You can cure people before they turn into Shells, correct? You’d be saving lives. We have no way of saving them otherwise, and with your help we may be able to find a cure that doesn’t require a dryad’s magic. Or we could utilize him as well to try and find one.”

The servant remained silent, reigniting the drakaina’s frustration.

“Or speak. Reply. If you’re so bothered by my asking, then tell me directly rather than putting on a mute act.”

And still, he didn’t speak.

“Why protect him? As a dryad would it not be in your best interest to see to it that whatever is left of your people continue to live on? I made the Seronites for that very reason. My kind although not as endangered as yours are still a rarity–humans as well who are just as important to our survival. A frozen over continent wouldn’t improve our odds, nor you and yours.”

He wouldn’t give her any other sign of his attention other than his constant eye contact to an off-putting extent.

Having reached her limit for the day, Drosera sighed again. “I pray that you’ll have a change of heart. For the sake of your people.”

The thick iron door quaked the cell as it slammed shut, leaving Linias left in the same silence he started with before the drakaina had entered.

Linias limply rattled against the chains, knowing it was futile but still he tried regardless. Magic resistant, and he could only imagine that the others were trapped in the same.

…He hoped his Master was alright. That he could find his way on his own, though he knew deep down that was wishful thinking. At the least he wanted him to leave all of this behind. If his father Emmett had cared so much about his well being, why have him take such a dangerous path to the Ivory Shore? He couldn’t have believed in Linias’s abilities that much.

The more their journey continued the more Linias began to doubt. As much as he refuted Drosera’s claims…what if she was right? He didn’t know himself so who was he to say that she was completely or even partially wrong?

It felt like everyone knew more than him. From the Shells, to the dryads, even about his own Master.

…

The more he welled in his thoughts the more he questioned. Himself and his purpose more than anything else. Even now Nevenia’s final words rung in his ears.

He didn’t know anymore the reason why he protected his Master. Once just knowing it was his ‘duty’ or ‘purpose’ used to be enough, but…What did that really mean? By that same logic wouldn’t Drosera be right? That he had a duty to see to it that the dryads lived on? Wouldn’t putting his life on the line for his Master be in contradiction to that?

…

For some reason he believed that maybe, maybe his Master could tell him. If he heard it from him, that what he was doing – staying by him until the end – was well and true. Everyone else’s words just threw his head into a spin. If he could just tell him, then he could put his doubts to rest.

…

…He hoped he was alright.