01-09-2016, 11:35 PM
Orihime was led deeper into the cave with the only sound being the surrounding shuffle of the troll’s feet. Blindfolded, her only sense of direction told her she was going down, then abruptly up a hill How long have I been walking she thought, terrified of her outcome.
After walking for what seemed like hours more, she began to hear a steady beat with muffled sounds of others in the distance. The men around her became livelier, dragging her more furiously than before. As she approached closer to the commotion, she noted the sound of flutes, drums, and voices of many people. The sounds that filled her ears were tribal and intimidating. Voices around her became louder than before, then suddenly silent. Even the beat had stopped as she approached closer. The silence was then interrupted by a conglomerate of voices, yelling angrily, until Zabajin roared, “Leave us!”
Orihime was then thrown to the ground by an unseen force and she could hear the dispersing footsteps dissipate. She expected the ground to be frigid, but was surprised when she felt the warm, smooth texture of wood. The bag was then pulled roughly from her head, allowing to see that she was in a large, dimly lit chamber.
She looked all around her and saw a great hall, filled with many substantial wooden tables. The walls were camouflaged by thick animal furs of all different colors. What looked like animal bones decorated the entire ceiling, dangling over her like stars. There was also a musk in the air around her, like blood and burnt firewood. The room was illuminated by tremendous iron bowls filled with burning embers and hung by rusted chains.
Sitting before her, on a gigantic wooden throne built into the wall, sat the main troll who looked at her with the same curious, and threatening expression. There was a steady stream of blood flowing from his hand where he had caught the blade. It trickled down the arm of his throne in a magnificent red stream that pooled at the bottom of his feet. Wiping away blood from his eyes with his healthy hand, he peered at her with a coy look for a moment in silence, before he finally requested, “What is your name?”
Dolefully, she looked up at him and swallowed hard before squeaking, “Orihime Inoue.”
His face became mischievous as he leaned over on this throne, closer to Orihime. “I am Zabajin.” the troll chieftain acknowledged before straightening up. He placed both hands under his chin in a pondering pose, while the blood continued in a steady flow, “Where did you come from?”
Orihime sat there on the ground of Zabajin’s throne room and explained everything, from The World of the Living, to Wakomoundo, the fountain, and then to this ice jungle. While she was telling him her story she noticed that his eyes would change from threatening, and then to curious. She was in the middle of talking about the being that she saw before the fountain, when he abruptly interrupted her.
“You saw him!?” he broke in as his expression became excited.
“Who?” Orihime looked up at the beast puzzled.
Annoyed, Zabajin rose from his seat and crouched right next to her. “Omni.” the chief coaxed, whispering with a fascinated look on his face.
In a small voice, Orihime responded, “Yes.” Looking down to the ground now, a tear escaped from her eye, “My powers were the reason why I was taken away from my home to Wakomundo, and now here I am again, in a strange place because of it.”
Jeering, the Dragon Warrior precipitously laughed before bursting out, “No. That is not why you are here.”
Orihime looked up puzzled, “But—”
“You are here because I spared your life.” the troll said simply, and she knew it to be true instantly. He had a way with his words, they were short, to the point, and weighed heavily in her mind.
With a grim look, Orihime choked, “Why?”
He rose to his feet again and looked down upon her with scrutiny, “We will see.”
Orihime did not like the sound of that, not one bit. She had just escaped a hostile landscape, only to be dropped into another, and at this point she would rather go back to Wakomundo. She searched his eyes for mercy and saw nothing. “What will become of me?”
He clutched his injured hand to his chest and peered off into the empty room. Sighing he said, “I do not know yet.” Then he pulled a knife out of his belt and watched as Orihime winced in fear. Cutting the ropes from her hands he forcefully grabbed her arm, and brought her to her feet, leaving a bloody hand print on her sleeve.
“You can start with this.” the chief commanded, as he reached out to her with his injured hand.
After walking for what seemed like hours more, she began to hear a steady beat with muffled sounds of others in the distance. The men around her became livelier, dragging her more furiously than before. As she approached closer to the commotion, she noted the sound of flutes, drums, and voices of many people. The sounds that filled her ears were tribal and intimidating. Voices around her became louder than before, then suddenly silent. Even the beat had stopped as she approached closer. The silence was then interrupted by a conglomerate of voices, yelling angrily, until Zabajin roared, “Leave us!”
Orihime was then thrown to the ground by an unseen force and she could hear the dispersing footsteps dissipate. She expected the ground to be frigid, but was surprised when she felt the warm, smooth texture of wood. The bag was then pulled roughly from her head, allowing to see that she was in a large, dimly lit chamber.
She looked all around her and saw a great hall, filled with many substantial wooden tables. The walls were camouflaged by thick animal furs of all different colors. What looked like animal bones decorated the entire ceiling, dangling over her like stars. There was also a musk in the air around her, like blood and burnt firewood. The room was illuminated by tremendous iron bowls filled with burning embers and hung by rusted chains.
Sitting before her, on a gigantic wooden throne built into the wall, sat the main troll who looked at her with the same curious, and threatening expression. There was a steady stream of blood flowing from his hand where he had caught the blade. It trickled down the arm of his throne in a magnificent red stream that pooled at the bottom of his feet. Wiping away blood from his eyes with his healthy hand, he peered at her with a coy look for a moment in silence, before he finally requested, “What is your name?”
Dolefully, she looked up at him and swallowed hard before squeaking, “Orihime Inoue.”
His face became mischievous as he leaned over on this throne, closer to Orihime. “I am Zabajin.” the troll chieftain acknowledged before straightening up. He placed both hands under his chin in a pondering pose, while the blood continued in a steady flow, “Where did you come from?”
Orihime sat there on the ground of Zabajin’s throne room and explained everything, from The World of the Living, to Wakomoundo, the fountain, and then to this ice jungle. While she was telling him her story she noticed that his eyes would change from threatening, and then to curious. She was in the middle of talking about the being that she saw before the fountain, when he abruptly interrupted her.
“You saw him!?” he broke in as his expression became excited.
“Who?” Orihime looked up at the beast puzzled.
Annoyed, Zabajin rose from his seat and crouched right next to her. “Omni.” the chief coaxed, whispering with a fascinated look on his face.
In a small voice, Orihime responded, “Yes.” Looking down to the ground now, a tear escaped from her eye, “My powers were the reason why I was taken away from my home to Wakomundo, and now here I am again, in a strange place because of it.”
Jeering, the Dragon Warrior precipitously laughed before bursting out, “No. That is not why you are here.”
Orihime looked up puzzled, “But—”
“You are here because I spared your life.” the troll said simply, and she knew it to be true instantly. He had a way with his words, they were short, to the point, and weighed heavily in her mind.
With a grim look, Orihime choked, “Why?”
He rose to his feet again and looked down upon her with scrutiny, “We will see.”
Orihime did not like the sound of that, not one bit. She had just escaped a hostile landscape, only to be dropped into another, and at this point she would rather go back to Wakomundo. She searched his eyes for mercy and saw nothing. “What will become of me?”
He clutched his injured hand to his chest and peered off into the empty room. Sighing he said, “I do not know yet.” Then he pulled a knife out of his belt and watched as Orihime winced in fear. Cutting the ropes from her hands he forcefully grabbed her arm, and brought her to her feet, leaving a bloody hand print on her sleeve.
“You can start with this.” the chief commanded, as he reached out to her with his injured hand.
![[Image: Orihime-orihime-inoue-35471187-500-274.gif]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2018/04/09/Orihime-orihime-inoue-35471187-500-274.gif)