The torture chamber smelled of iron and old fear.

Marcus stood in the center of the room. He felt utterly useless.

He looked at the corner where the dragon girl lay crumpled. She was a shivering ball of bruises and terror.

She pressed herself against the cold stone as if trying to merge with it. Her blue eyes were wide and frantic.

She watched Marcus and the little girl like a cornered animal watches a pack of wolves.

Marcus shifted his gaze to his companion... or whatever they were.

The mysterious little girl stood beside him. She looked bored.

She smoothed a non-existent wrinkle on her white dress. She looked at the dragon girl with a flat, unimpressed expression.

It was the look one might give a noisy cat.

Marcus felt a headache building behind his eyes.

They had come to save the prisoner. Instead, they had terrified her.

The little girl had thrown the hatchling against a wall. It was effective, yes. It stopped the attack.

But it certainly didn't express "we are the good guys."

Marcus rubbed his temples. He needed a plan.

He needed to de-escalate the situation before the guard woke up. Or before Elowen returned.

But he was just a man. He had no magic. He had no weapons.

He looked at the dragon girl's injuries.

The cuts on her arms were deep. The burns on her shoulders were angry and red.

She was in pain. Pain made people desperate. Pain made them irrational.

If he tried to talk to her now, she wouldn't hear him. She would only feel the fire in her nerves.

He needed to fix the pain first.

Marcus looked at the little girl again.

He took a deep breath. He focused in his mind.

'Hey,' Marcus projected the thought. 'Are you still listening?'

The little girl didn't look at him. But her voice echoed clearly in his skull.

'Unfortunately,' she replied. 'Your thoughts are very loud.'

Marcus ignored the jab.

'We have a problem,' Marcus projected. 'She is hurt. She is scared. She won't listen to us like this.'

'So?' the girl replied. 'She is subdued. We can just drag her out.'

Marcus winced. 'We are not dragging a child through a dungeon. We need her to cooperate.'

'Cooperation is inefficient,' the girl countered. 'Force is faster.'

'Force is what got her here,' Marcus argued. 'We need to be different.'

He paused. He looked at the dragon girl's bleeding arm.

'Do you have a spell for that?' Marcus asked. 'Can you heal her?'

The little girl finally looked at him.

She raised an eyebrow. Her expression was a mix of disbelief and pity.

'Let me get this straight,' she projected. Her mental voice dripped with sarcasm.

'I broke the chains. I silenced her screams. I stopped her from ripping your throat out.'

She gestured vaguely at the room.

'I also concealed us so we could even get here,' she added.

'And now,' she continued, 'you want me to play doctor, too? '

Marcus felt a flush of embarrassment. Put that way, he sounded useless.

'I am not a mage,' Marcus defended himself. 'I am the strategist. You are the... heavy support.'

'Aren't you embarrassed to ask a child for help?' the girl said flatly.

'You are not a normal child,' Marcus shot back. 'Normal children don't throw dragons across rooms with their minds.'

'Details,' she scoffed.

'Look,' Marcus pleaded. 'Just this once. If you heal her, she might trust us. Or at least stop looking at us like we are going to eat her.'

The little girl sighed.

'You are needy,' she observed. 'For an adult.'

'I prefer the term "resourceful",' Marcus corrected. 'Please? For the mission?'

The girl rolled her eyes. She turned toward the corner.

'Fine,' she projected. 'But you owe me. Big time.'

She raised her hand. Her palm glowed with a soft, golden light.

It wasn't blinding like the concealment spell. It was warm. It pulsed gently.

The dragon girl flinched. She squeezed her eyes shut. She braced for a blow.

[Heal].

The little girl spoke the word in her mind.

The golden light drifted across the room and settled over the dragon girl like a blanket.

It didn't burn. It didn't strike.

It soaked into her skin.

Marcus watched in amazement.

The angry red burns on the dragon girl's shoulders began to fade. The skin knit itself back together.

The deep cuts on her arms closed up. The blood vanished, leaving only faint pink lines.

The bruises on her legs turned from purple to yellow, then disappeared entirely.

It was miraculous.

In seconds, the fresh wounds were gone.

Only the old scars remained. The white, jagged lines from years of abuse were too deep for a simple spell.

But the pain was gone.

The dragon girl opened her eyes. She looked at her arms.

She touched her shoulder. She expected to feel the sting of raw flesh.

Instead, she felt smooth skin.

Her expression shifted. The terror didn't leave, but it cracked.

Confusion seeped in.

She looked at the little girl. Then she looked at Marcus.

Why?

Her eyes asked the question.

Were they gonna break her so bad that they needed to heal her first?

Marcus saw the opening. This was his chance.

He stepped forward slowly. He kept his hands visible.

"See?" Marcus said aloud. His voice was soft and low. "We aren't going to hurt you."

The dragon girl flinched at his voice. She pulled her knees tighter to her chest.

She watched him warily. Her tail twitched on the floor.

"My friend here fixed you up," Marcus continued. He took another small step. "Because we want to get you out of here."

The dragon girl shook her head. It was a small, jerky movement.

She didn't believe him. She couldn't.

Hope was a trap. She had learned that the hard way.

Marcus stopped. He was five feet away.

He crouched down. He tried to make himself smaller. He tried to look less like a threat.

"I know you are scared," Marcus said. "You have every right to be."

He gestured to the room. To the tools on the wall.

"This place is terrible," he admitted. "The people here are monsters."

The dragon girl watched his lips move. She seemed to be searching for the lie.

"But we aren't them," Marcus said. "We are leaving. And we want you to come with us."

He extended his right hand. palm up. An invitation.

The dragon girl's eyes locked onto his hand.

Her pupils constricted. They became vertical slits.

She didn't see an invitation. She saw a weapon.

Hands hit. Hands cut. Hands burned.

Hands were the source of all pain.

She let out a low growl. It vibrated in her small chest.

Marcus didn't pull back. He kept his hand steady.

"It is okay," he whispered. "I promise."

He moved his hand closer. Just an inch.

The dragon girl panicked.

Her instinct overrode her confusion.

The hand was coming. The pain was coming.

She curled into a tight ball. She tucked her head down.

She threw her arms up to block her face.

She braced herself.

She waited for the strike.

She waited for the grip that would drag her back to the table.

Marcus watched her crumble.

His heart broke for her. She was so conditioned to pain that she couldn't see kindness.

He moved his hand and bypassed her defensive arms.

He reached past her guard and placed his hand gently on top of her head.

His fingers rested on her matted black hair. He avoided the horns.

He didn't push. He just let the weight of his hand rest there.

It was a light touch, a grounding touch.

"You are safe," Marcus whispered.

The dragon girl froze.

She stopped breathing.

She waited for the trick. She waited for him to grab her hair and slam her head against the wall.

But the hand just sat there.

It was warm. It was steady.

It was something that didn't... hurt.

Marcus moved his thumb. He rubbed a small circle on her scalp.

It was the same way he would comfort a scared dog. Or a crying child.

"I have got you," he said. "Nobody is going to hurt you anymore."

The dragon girl trembled under his touch.

But she didn't pull away.

She was too confused to move.

The heat from his hand seeped into her cold skin.

It was a sensation she didn't have a name for. And it felt oddly... nice.

And that terrified her more than the pain.

Because she knew and understood pain.

But this warmth? This was unknown.

And the unknown usually meant danger.

But Marcus didn't stop. He kept patting her head.

Rhythmically. Gently.

He was rewriting her reality with a single touch.

And the dragon girl didn't know what to do.

So she just sat there, hidden behind her arms, and let him do it.

.

.

.

A/N:

I was trying to make the scene realistic and as a result stretched it a bit.

Did I stretch it too much? Or was it alright? Was i able to portray the scene well enough?

Do let me know cause I am a bit confused myself

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.