Yara lay on the tiger pelt, the soft fur a stark contrast to the turmoil inside her. Basilisk's words washed over her, each one a bitter reminder of her new reality. She listened intently, the weight of his expectations pressing down on her. This didn't have to be a bad thing, he said. She would be fed, treated, trained. There was an almost tantalizing promise in his words, but she couldn't ignore the underlying truth of her captivity.
The mention of training sparked a flicker of interest. She had always been a quick learner, her agility and sharp mind her greatest assets. Could she truly trust him to follow through on this promise? The wildfire inside her burned brighter, fueled by a mix of defiance and curiosity. If she played her cards right, this could be an opportunity to gather the skills she needed to escape.
His recounting of the Armada's history, of its founder and Ignita's past as slaves, struck a chord with her. She couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of likeness with them, though she fought to suppress it. They had clawed their way out of slavery, built a life from the ashes of their past. Could she do the same? Could she rise through the ranks of Armada and find her freedom?
Yara's thoughts turned to Eirik, her lost brother. She had to survive, had to endure this, for him. If playing the role of a compliant slave meant she could gain the skills and knowledge to find him, then so be it. She would learn their ways, earn their trust, and when the time was right, she would strike.
She remained silent for a moment, considering Basilisk's question. Then, she took a deep breath and answered, her voice steady but thoughtful. "If I'm to be trained, I'd like to learn combat and navigation. I want to be able to defend myself and understand the land. If I'm going to serve the Armada, I want to be useful."
Her answer was honest, reflecting both her desire to become stronger and her underlying ambition. Learning combat would help her protect herself against the marauders should they still be alive, while navigation would give her the knowledge she needed to find her way around Boreas and, ultimately, locate her brother and the marauders in the first place. She doubted the Warlord would allow her to leave the territory to learn Boreas any time soon, but she spoke her truth.
Basilisk had ignited a fire within her that blazed brighter than ever, a beacon of hope in the darkness of her captivity. For now, she would bide her time, listen, and learn. She would become an asset, gain their trust, and when they least expected it, she would reclaim her freedom. That was her plan for now, anyway. She did not want to get trapped here and lose sight of finding her brother. There was a sense of urgency about finding him that she just did not want to lose. Yara's resolve hardened as she lay on the tiger pelt, her spirit unbroken and her mind set on the path ahead.
