Katla heard a faint sound from outside the door. She was standing behind it, listening, ready to use any chance to get out. Someone was checking the lock, but then moved away. She was still alone in the room, with no way out. She didn’t know why she’d been taken to the somewhat lavish room either, when all she should’ve expected was a cold dungeon, or death. Her captor, the Dragon Lord was not known for his love of either humans or turtles.

She’d regained consciousness some six hours ago and had spent the time examining the room. There were no windows in there and the door was of sturdy solid metal. She’d woken up on a big bed, beside which there was only a large wooden table, an equally massive armchair and two heavy Chinese vases almost her height in the room. The wall next to the bed was made entirely of mirror. What made the room seem lavish were the curtains, bed-sheets and the fabrics used on the furniture. The curtains were made of crimson velvet and everything else was expensive silk. There was nothing of use as a weapon in there, though. Not that she’d probably have been able to cause any real damage to the Dragon Lord even if she’d found something. The vases were too heavy for her to lift and he’d be able to tear or cut through the curtains if she tried to use them to strangle him. She suspected someone was keeping an eye on her activities from behind the mirror, and glared at it. If they’d left something less heavy in there she’d have thrown it against the wall and used the shards as a knife.

She used the mirror to study her reflection. Her blue eyes stared back at her, looking distant and cold. Standing 5’11" tall, she looked both frail and amazonesque at the same time. Her hair was relatively long and shiny black, tied at the back. The black shirt she was wearing had been torn from the sleeve in the fight and she’d been bruised slightly. She also remembered the small cut on her right temple she’d got in the fight. She no longer had any weapons either, but then that was no surprise. Only an idiot would leave weapons on a prisoner and the Dragon Lord didn’t seem like one.

Katla winced as she touched the wound on her temple. At least the bleeding had stopped while she was unconscious. She’d somehow been able to fend off three of all the Dragon Lord’s troops that had attacked her, but at some stage she’d been knocked out. She also had no idea where the others were or if they were even alive anymore. It hadn’t been her idea to get involved but somehow it’d become unavoidable, and she’d got caught right in the middle of things.

Suddenly shuddering as she remembered the Dragon Lord’s red eyes, she turned away from the door and sat down, trying to gather the rest of her energy and focus again. What she knew of the Dragon Lord she knew only from rumours, but they were enough. He was bitter about his people having been imprisoned by a human aeons ago and wanted nothing but the destruction and humiliation of the human race. She’d caught a glimpse of him at the beginning of the surprise attack. He’d turned to look in her direction, as if singling her out in recognition, something unidentifiable flashing in his eyes for just a moment before he’d snapped out the final attack command. After that her instincts had cut in and having got caught in the middle of the worst action she hadn’t been able to keep track of anybody in particular, let alone the enemy leader. But she remembered the eyes, unable to forget them either.

What had he been doing there in the first place either? She hadn't heard of him taking part in any of the other attacks the dragons had made, risking his life in any way. The whole attack bore no logic. What were they to gain?

She wasn’t in the habit of making unnecessary enemies but in this case she felt she was given little choice. If your opponent was out to destroy every member of your species, it was hard to remain neutral. She was a born survivor and had switched sides whenever it had become necessary, moving from one camp to another with apparent ease whatever their cause, but this time switching sides seemed to be out of the question. There was no talking her way out of this jam. Especially if no one was going to show up and give her the chance to get out of the room.

Katla sat on the side of the bed and waited, thinking. She was getting hungry as well as tired. The knock on her head had given her a nagging headache, nothing was happening and presumably wasn’t going to happen in the near future either. If they’d wanted her dead, she would’ve been dead already, that much was apparent. She was missing something, some vital piece of information, that was why her current fate made no sense. The mirror was making her uneasy, but she wasn’t going to let it show. She lay down on the bed, facing the mirror wall, and closed her eyes. Maybe something would happen if she pretended to be asleep.

Someone was talking to her. There was a sense of urgency in the voice, hidden behind a wall of arrogance and authority. She didn’t know where she was or where the voice was coming from, though it felt familiar from somewhere. It whispered to her, where normally the voice would growl, she knew. It was saying something about dreams, and a key. The key? Then the voice was behind her, so she turned. She saw a flash of red and then nothing.

Katla opened her eyes. She could smell food somewhere. The sensation of being watched was stronger than before, too. Cursing herself for having fallen asleep she eyed the mirror wall in front of her, still unmoving otherwise. The room seemed to be empty, but there was a tray with a bowl on it on the table now. She got up and moved to the table, smelling the soup in the bowl. Palatable, if the smell was anything to go by, if not exactly what she’d call her favourite. It seemed safe to assume she was to be kept alive and thus fed, too, so the soup probably wasn’t poisoned either. She tried it and then sighed looking at the small plastic spoon she’d been given. It'd be of no use as a weapon, but maybe she could use it as a lock-pick?

"Not happy with out cutlery either, are we now?" came the sudden question from behind her. Katla spun around, ready to fend off any possible attacks, swearing there had been no one else in the room when she’d walked to the table. She was forced to look about a foot up, and what she saw didn’t make her any happier. Less than a metre away from her towered the dreaded Dragon Lord himself, red eyes pinned at her. She took an involuntary step backward, then gathered herself and faced his gaze. "I..."

There was still something about dragons that forced you to admire them. Maybe it was some ancient forgotten voice in the human sub-consciousness, maybe it was something in dragons, but Katla couldn't help but stare in awe at the creature standing in front of her. He was formidable, she had to admit that. Tall and muscular, he was wearing armour and a long cape, only a shade darker than the colour of his dimly glowing red eyes. She found she had forgotten what she was going to say.

He'd watched her reaction with some amusement, aware of the confusing admiration he was causing in her. He'd counted on it, but her reaction was stronger than any other human's so far. It almost made him laugh, but her apparent lack of dread also irked him. All the other humans he’d met after his release from the mirror had shown some signs of fear, even panic, shivering and shaking and cowering before him. This insolent female had taken one step backward, more of surprise than fear, and had even found the immediate courage, or nerve, to face his gaze.

Frankly, she was annoying the hell out of him. He commanded dread and she would be made to fear and respect him! He stopped, glaring down at her, even more irritated at the logical flaw in his thinking. From what he could tell, he already had her respect, the way one has the respect of an enemy. It was fear and humility she lacked. No difference, she’d learn soon enough.

Using the time the Dragon Lord spent both delighting in and getting annoyed at his own thoughts, Katla finally regained her balance again and said "No, I’m not. This spoon would be of no use to me if I had to try and defend myself." She could see the scowl on the Dragon Lord's face deepen, but continued nevertheless. "The room was empty. You mind if I ask how you got in here?" She found it exhilarating, talking back at him as if she wasn’t a prisoner, as if he wasn’t extremely dangerous and lethal, as if her life wasn’t hanging on a thread he could cut any time he wanted.

Her instinct was telling her not to give in an inch, but to stand tall and with her head held high before him. She was no less worthy than him, no matter what his kind thought of humans and their presumed inferiority. It had been a human who had trapped the dragons after all, now hadn’t it? There was a fire burning inside her now, and it shone through her eyes as defiance and strength of will.

"You DARE pose questions at me?!?" The Dragon Lord hissed. "It would serve you better if you were crawling on the floor, begging for mercy and thanking me for not having killed YOU like the rest of your companions. Beg your status remains the same and you won’t join them."

"Yes, I had idly wondered about their fate. ‘Alas, poor Horatio, I knew him well.’ Or not. And by all means, fine, don’t tell me how you got in then." This was a contest of wills now, and she had no intention of giving in.

"Don’t test my patience. There is a limit to your usefulness to me, IF indeed you will prove useful in the end. That is still to be seen." The Dragon Lord said in a low menacing growl. Katla felt as if she’d won a point just by having him admit she could be useful to him. She had been right about there being a reason for her still being alive.

"For now, I wanted to see you face to face. It’s SO impersonal eyeing you from behind the mirror, though it gives me the pleasure of thinking of the rest of your kind imprisoned, too, of course." The Dragon Lord’s eyes flashed and he clenched his fist, almost spitting out the next words. "YOU will help me have my righteous revenge or you’ll die, understand, human? Now eat!"

He turned, headed for the door. Katla tried to calculate her chances of getting out, when the Dragon Lord suddenly stopped and said "Oh, by the way. You will never leave this room unless I so wish it. It’s amazing what you can achieve with a little knowledge of the occult, isn’t it?" He hissed out the last words, every little thing reminding him of his imprisonment once again.

"I will delight in the knowledge you will never be able to move toward the door when it’s open. If I wasn’t expecting your friends to drop by for a visit, I’d remove the whole door, just to watch your agony."

Katla narrowed her eyes as he laughed, reaching the door and stopping by it, smiling maliciously as he opened it. He was right. She couldn’t move in its direction, no matter how she willed it. He was laughing again as the door sealed shut, leaving her behind it, prisoner of the room.