Krysta looked down from her perch upon her daughter. She felt great pride for Zeana; her intelligence, determination, and stamina were astounding.  Zeana was in the drama club, choir, community service group, and still managed to be an above average student.
Zander was of equal intelligence, but never really reached out to anyone.  Every second he seemed to be in emotional turmoil; he was a dramatic person with a two-meter thick force field surrounding him.

 Sighing, she leaned back in her chair and pondered.  She never meant to be cold or unapproachable, however, Zander’s attitude always struck a nerve.  To talk to him would be yet another vain attempt, to punish him would be the same.  What was she to do?

 Krysta jerked and sat up as she heard the back door slam.  She turned to see her son’s friend Cyera panting in the doorway.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

  After she was done with her temporary hyperventilation, Cyera looked up and responded. “I’m a little worried.  Neither Zander, Shawn, nor Jaden are answering my calls.  I’ve called everywhere, and none of them will respond.”

“They could have just gone for a walk or something, Cyera,” she replied with little worry.

  Cyera shook her head, “I doubt that they would’ve taken a walk for an entire day.  I’ve been calling them every fifteen minutes.

  Krysta’s eyebrows rose, now she was worried. She looked down at her daughter who offered no response, then looked back up at the fourteen-year-old in front of her.  It was unlikely that they would have gone somewhere for a whole day, Shawn didn’t care too much for traveling anymore, and Zander was grounded.

  Looking from one girl to the other, determination flashed in her light brown eyes.  “Pack your bags, we’re going to Ithor. Cyera, see if you can acquire the services of an officer.”

  Cyera nodded in a crude military fashion, then left to do her part.  Krysta was certainly a fighter, unlike most of the other women on the rural planet of Gaia.  She had been in the military before she’d gotten married, and from what Cyera had been told, people had to fight with her to get her out of the army.  She wasn’t a person to cross that much was obvious.
 
 
 

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

 Kaster stared at his older cousin, a thoughtful expression on his face.  His mind went off into many areas, one of which was wondering if they wouldn’t be in a jail cell if not for him following Zander. Because of him, Zander was badly wounded. What would’ve happened if he had just woke the family after his cousin’s departure? If he had done just one thing different, would the outcome be any more pleasing than this?

 Sighing gravely, he leaned back on the wall and continued to watch his cousin and uncle.
They were doing some sort of physical therapy, although Zander’s wounds were healed, the loss of blood had left him weak, and parts of him remained sore.  Bruises were easily seen on Zander’s now pale skin, and he was at fault for it all.

 Sensing his distress, Shawn put an arm around him, and assured him that it wasn’t his fault.  Zander’s running away was bound to get him in to trouble, whether he was with Zander or not.  “But,” he added, “You should contemplate your actions more before you go through with them.  Running after him wasn’t the best way to remedy the situation.”

  Kaster nodded solemnly, he still had much to learn. It was a hard fact to admit, but it was true.  With a half-hearted sigh, he once again directed his attention to Zander and Jaden…

 Looking down at his son, Jaden relaxed him. As he looked solemnly about him he realized that Zander would have to get better soon if they hoped to get out of the prison.

  Finally, Jaden looked at his son once more, and in a sincere tone, asked him what he had learned from everything that had happened.

  Zander stroked his stomach wound gingerly, and shook his head. “Throw the first blow,” he answered simply.  If he had just thrown another good punch or something to get the guards away, they wouldn’t be in this position. Again it came to his previous thought: either hurt or be killed.

“And become like him, Zander?” Jaden asked, pointing at the guard that had arrested them.   His ice-blue eyes were piercing, and full of determination, his eyebrows slanted up for emphasis.

  In that instant, Zander finally understood what his father was trying to tell him. He went cold as he looked at how his mistakes had advanced throughout the years.  If he didn’t stop and look around, he would become just like that brutal guard.  How could he have been so blind?

  “Do you now understand me, son?” Jaden asked gently,  “Do you now finally understand what I was trying to get through to you?”
 
 

 Zander’s body went limp.  How stupid he had been, always twisting words said to him into crueler things then they were intended to be. Cyera was right; he was too dramatic for his own good.  Had he calmed down and listened…

 “I would never just say things to hurt you, Zander. I was merely trying to bestow some wisdom upon you.” Jaden paused and then looked into his son’s eyes, continuing in a soft tone.  “Your defensiveness is what keeps you from understanding, son; you need to come out of that shell. No one is against you, so let us into your life.”

  Zander met his father’s gaze uneasily; he had been really hard to reach.  Sighing, he looked down to the ground, lowering his head ever so slightly.  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.   The barrier shield about him was down, showing his true guilty self.  Insecurity was of the strongest emotions within him, and it showed well among all that looked.

 “Come here,” Jaden said tenderly, gesturing slightly with his arms.

 Jaden embraced Zander loosely, so as not to hurt him further.  As Zander began to hug his father back, Jaden lowered his head to Zander’s ear, and spoke softly. “Do not torture yourself for past actions, son.  Learn from mistakes, and never forget the wisdom you’ve gained.  Know that no matter where you go in life, I will be there to help you; it will remain that way until you learn to rely completely on yourself.”  Jaden glanced upon Zander’s face, smiling.  “I love you, Son.”

  Tears streamed down Zander’s cheeks as he heard the words. He pulled himself closer with little struggle, resting his head on Jaden’s shoulder.  “I love you too, Dad,” he whispered softly.
………………………………………………………………………………………………

 Cyera looked from the view port of the ship with enthusiasm, although she wasn’t under the greatest of circumstances, she had always dreamed of adventure.

  Zeana, however, was much less happy with the decision; She was somewhat worried about her brother, though she refused to show it, but why did her mother need them?  Why did she have to drag them into danger as well?  Sometimes she wondered whether Krysta really considered her the perfect daughter she said she did.  Zeana felt much more like a pawn in her mother’s game than anything else.  Krysta pushed her all the time to do almost anything, then bragged later.

Am I only here for her to feel superiority over other parents?

    She could barely stand it, while she was pushed hard every second of the day, Zander got to slack off and his punishment was a mere weeks groundation.  If she had done anything at all, no matter how small, everyone would go berserk, giving her at least one month of hell.  Yes it was true, she did kiss ass from time to time, but it was the only reason or way that she was approved of by others, or even noticed for that matter.

She was tired of being forced into acting like a perfect pre-teen.  She too had a personality of her own, and it was unfair of everyone to ignore it.  She may seem perfect and content, but inside she was screaming out for freedom; just one day that she could call her own.

  Sighing heavily, she leaned back against her seat and let her tired muscles relax.  As she closed her sleepy eyes, she hoped with all of her might that her mother knew what she was doing.

  As Cyera looked over at her friend’s sister, she noticed the distress.  As she didn’t know Zeana very well, she thought it unwise to try and talk to her.  Zander still snapped when she gave him her point of view, and she’d known him for five years.  Zeana had always been out doing something, so Cyera had no real basis to understand her from, and she wasn’t a very good psychiatrist, Zander was proof of that…

Cyera smirked at the last thought, she loved irritating him and teasing him, just to see his temper rise.  No, it didn’t make her a very good friend, but it was amusing to see him get angry over the smallest of things. Those are teenage boys for you, so easily irritated. Zander adds to it with his dramatic ways. It was just so fun to play with him sometimes, though she still tried to help him as well. The teasing just made it a bit more fun.

   Her grin disappeared when she noticed the lurking shadow behind her. She turned defensively to find the military officer behind her.  Sighing, she turned back to the window and rolled her eyes, sighing.  I need to relax!

  Forcing the chills to stop, Cyera retired to the small quarters that they were sharing. It was going to be a long night; therefore she wanted to be the first one to fall asleep.

………………………………………………………………………………………….

  Zander leaned against his father’s shoulder, fast asleep.  After having embraced him for a while, Zander instinctively curled up against him, and rested his eyes.  His need for energy was still great, and it would take a while to regain.

 Jaden moved slightly, waking Zander quickly.  He was always such a light sleeper, which was strange because he often slept in very late.  Perhaps he just goes back to sleep every time he is waken.  Jaden quickly disregarded the thought, it wasn’t important.  He’d better work on helping Zander get his strength back, or they would never get out of the prison cell.

  Groaning, Zander moved to prepare himself for more of what he considered physical torture.  It wasn’t that he had a hard time moving, it was just that motion often made his head ache.  Every movement made his blood flow to his head, making him feel like he had a severe hangover.
 

 He moved his leg gently, and looked up above the beams and cement to the little sunshine that crept through to his eyes.  He had lost a lot of blood and had been weakened, the cell containing them was well advanced, Gavrin looked very drained and angry, Kaster was cowering under his father’s glare, and his father and grandfather were
determined to wait for escape until everyone was fully ready.  It seemed hopeless and futile.  Everyone was at least a little drained, and as far as he could see, there was no way past either the beams or the guards.

“We’re going to get out of here, Zander,” Jaden interrupted in a determine tone, “We’re going to be fine.”

  Zander nodded half-heartedly, not believing him.  It seemed quite impossible to get out, and something in the back of his mind told him that the authorities within the jail were up to something.  Why were they locked up like this?  There was no reason for them to be, they had simply walked into town.  If the city government was that territorial, why hadn’t someone come in to interrogate them or anything?  It seemed that five strangers locked up and left in one of the superior cells was only wasting space.  What did they want?  Why keep trespassers here?  Why hadn’t the guards just run them off at the beginning?

  Zander’s eyes widened as two guards came to the cell door, and punched in the code.
A dark fear began to rise within him; perhaps they weren’t considered mere trespassers.  Perhaps they were more to these law enforcers.

 “Get up, and make yourself presentable,” one growled, “The Abissen prince wishes to see you.”

  Zander folded his arms as he did so, and glared rebelliously at the gruff man.  He was not one who took patronization lightly.

  Jaden put a hand on his shoulder, restraining him from starting an argument. A quarrel in his position would be reckless and unwise.

  Sighing, Zander calmed himself and looked over to whom he guessed to be the prince.  He was a tall man of great build and stature.  In his eyes flashed extreme arrogance: they seemed to cry out ‘I am holier than thou art’.

  Zander looked at the man grimly as he tugged on his tunic.  This man’s company was going to be much less than favorable.  Something told him that this conversation was not going to be pleasant.