Life & Times

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters named in this fictional non canonical work of literature. (But I do own the mind to come up with it muahahha!)

In response to My good mage, Xanatos' story I agreed to post my own. So here it is. though I took a slow approach with this. This first chapter is setting the scene, kinda short..but oh well. Lets take a look into the mind of our dear crazed royal.

The Life and Times

~Azula de Fire Nationale~

The air was silent in the small room. So still, it was stifling to be alive within the four walls of the loosely furnished compartment. Not a sound made it into the space, not a sound made it out. No matter how loud, atrocious or intrusive, there were no exceptions. Not a window to look out of, nor one to look in. The area was only large enough for one person. Any more and both would surely suffocate from oxygen deprivation. This was indeed a prison, within a prison.

Hazel gold eyes opened amidst the darkness. They peered out, not seeing anything different for the past forty-seven days and forty-six nights. At least that's the time she believed she had been inside this place. Time was not relevant here. If you thought only a day had passed, then it might as well been a week. If you believed a week had gone by, it may very well have been an hour. Isolation of this type was truly a punishment.

”Even the Cooler would have been preferable.” A soft, feminine, cynical voice stated within the confines of the cell. There was only one person who could speak..or think aloud rather. So it had to be her. Thinking aloud was the only privilege that she could afford. Usually it would be rude and strange to voice your personal thoughts without meaning to. But this was a special place. A place where the rules of the civil world and the decent realm did not apply to the slightest. If she wanted to keep what little sanity she had retained, becoming her own audience and best friend would be the most beneficial thing to do as of the moment. Maybe once she escaped this place, if she escaped that is, then it would be alright, and commonplace for her to regain the regal procedure of a free woman. “Who am I fooling? Escape from this three foot personal space would be suicide.” The woman sighed as she came to the same conclusion she had come to, about thirty hours ago.

The room wasn't pitch black. There was an ambient red glow about the walls that seemed to be constructed out of some type of alloy or chiseled directly into some super hard ore. This is what made it almost unbearable to do anything here. The make of the place. The ore made it near impossible to circulate air in and out via the door at the entrance of the cell. It was thick and not porous, by her observations anyhow. But this also made escape by suicide quite literal. The almost immediate, though very limited supply of oxygen was the perfect fuel for a quick flash