If I Dreamed 00/06/15-18
Reality: Illusion
Illusions are what they appear to be only in the context called reality.
The small room quickly became hot and stuffy. The fighters had calmed down, no longer boasting their skills, but had either sat down to meditate or exchange low comments with fellow soldiers. Bulma sat alone, leaning against the wall, not knowing anyone. She felt quite alienated and began to think over her plan. Was it right for her to try and claim the prize she didn't want? She didn't know the Prince and she certainly wasn't dying to get her hands on him like the others were. Was it wrong for her to be here? She was supposed to be back on Earth in Yamcha's strong arms with nothing more to think about besides her next project. Why is it that she was stranded here, on some alien planet, bonded to their next monarch?
Bonded? She though the term over in her mind, rolling it around the inside of her mouth. She leaned her head back on the wall and thought through the conversation with her former guards; the weaker one gets the mark. Then why does he have it too? Speaking of guards, where were they? She hadn't seen them in; she counted on her fingers, eight days. 'Bulma!' she mentally swatted herself for running astray with her own thoughts.
There was bustling in the room that caught the Chikyuu native's attention. "The games are beginning." she heard someone say. Bulma waited patiently at the back on the line to exit the room. 'No reason to hurry to you death.' she though solemnly, somewhat losing faith in her meticulously thought out plan. She trudged out, following the others who'd all seemed to have perked up at the thought of battle.
They were led out into the battlefield where they all stood facing the Prince and an older man who Bulma assumed to be the king. The distinguished man stood and made a brief speech in his native tongue, the fighters bowed on one knee, showing their respect for him. Bulma followed suit, not wanting to draw attention to herself. As if on cue, all the fighters found a place on the low ledge surrounding the battlefield, it was just large enough for them all to fit. The King jumped down from his seat to float just above the center of the ring. With his left hand he raised a short dagger and drew its sharp blade across his palm. Blood welled up and spilled onto the ground. The field erupted in cries of bloodlust and war. Bulma stayed pressed to the side of the wall, paralysed by fear.
The fight reflected in her eyes for a brief moment before she regained her senses. She slid the watch out from under the sleeve of her shirt and turned the faceplate. The small screen
Chapter X
By Michika Tenshi
-Michika Tenshi 00/06/18