✧The Earthe of the Elves✧

47

Mia's POV

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The first thing I hear is the crunch of snow. When the fog fades, I immediately know we are on Earthe. There is melting snow on the ground of the clearing we landed in, with only a few spots of dirt or dead grass showing. The snow under my leg is dotted with red.

I barely have time to process the world around me before I'm shoved into the back of a black carriage with, funny enough, white horses pulling it. The carriage has windows, and the inside is all black, leather lined with two benches facing each other, built into the walls. I am pushed to one side while two Cin sit across from me, their eyes cold and devoid of emotion. The others ride outside, driving the horses and talking in an oddly accented Elvish.

As the carriage starts moving I focus on steadying my shaking breaths to keep from crying. Cry later. However, the adrenaline from the fight is gone, and two major feelings are building. One, fear. The very present thoughts of the situation I'm in land one after another on my shoulders, like adding more and more weights to a barbell until you can't take anymore. Every step closer to wherever the Cin live sends more and more fear creeping through my system, poisoning me. The second thing that's becoming worse is pain. My leg feels like it's being stabbed over and over again. The carriage has already hit a few bumps, each one jolting my leg and leading to a pained noise coming out of my mouth as it pulls on the cut. I can already tell it's deeper than the original one.

"I think I need something to cover my leg," I tell the elves across from me as I look back down at the wound. My pants are stained in a large perimeter around the cut in dark crimson that looks black in the shaded light of the carriage. I bring my hand down to touch it, but it's shaking too much so I don't bother. The carriage bumps again, and for a second my vision warps like I'm looking through a kaleidoscope. My brain spins, and I realize I'm dizzy. The world is back to normal in a blink.

When the Cin don't do anything I look back up at them, anger momentarily flaring.

"If you don't give me something to cover this don't bother bringing me to your hideout because I'll bleed to death by then!"

A breeze shifts through the air, and goosebumps rise on my bare arms. I rub them with my hands, which are now cold. I guess Earthe keeps its seasons longer than Earth, because it still feels like late winter here. And I'm in a t-shirt.

Something soft smacks my face. A scarf, it looks like. I don't thank them, obviously, only silently press the scarf to my still bleeding cut, hoping I'm doing the right thing. I don't know how to treat wounds other than a tourniquet, maybe. The minute the scarf touches the open wound, a mix of pain and extreme discomfort at the feeling of fabric touching it rolls through me in a sickening wave. Biting my lip to keep from crying out I press harder, whimpering and letting a few tears fall as agony squeezes my chest, threatening to close my throat. I nearly gag as my hands become sticky with blood, the scarf slowly soaking through. I take a deep, shaking breath, one of those breaths you take when you know you're about to cry but have to hold it in.

Just keep swimming, right?

Well, it's hard to keep swimming when you're being pulled the opposite direction.

-

It takes an hour to get to any sign of civilization. By then I'm pretty cold. Sure, the windows don't open, but when I stayed the night at my house I changed into a pair of loose black pants and a t-shirt with only a wool sweater to put on top. The 40 degree seeps through my pants like nothing, and my fingers and toes are already freezing. The gash on my leg has finally stopped bleeding, but it still hurts like hell any time I move, and even when I'm not, there's this throbbing ache that spreads throughout my thigh. The scarf, now completely drenched in blood, is still sitting on the cut. Partially because I don't want to even touch it, partially because I'm scared to see what's underneath.