✧The Earthe of the Elves✧

48

Mia's POV

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Some amount of time has passed. I'm not sure how much. The extremely annoying and probably purposeful thing is the lack of windows. The only light is from the torches, so there is no way to tell time.

However, I have picked something up.

It must be morning, because a guard comes to my cell and tosses in a single leaf, immediately leaving to toss leaves into other cells. I watch as the bright green leaf, stark in contrast to the rest of this place, floats lazily to the ground. I blink, and the next thing I know there's a bowl of oatmeal looking stuff and a small glass of water. So this must be breakfast, meaning I can track the days by breakfasts.

Once the guard leaves, I try some of the oatmeal. It's actually not terrible. Finishing it doesn't take long, and afterwards I sit up taller and prepare to call on the Heartstone, something I forgot about when I was crying in here. How could I forget? I can get out of here with the stone.

Hope lights me up like a spark.

"Green," I whisper, putting my hands out to catch the stone. But it doesn't come. I try again, and when it doesn't come a second time I start to feel frantic. Why isn't it working? It should be working. My heart pumps faster as the hope is snuffed out, panic replacing it. That was my only hope, basically.

In a burst of emotion I scream, chucking my empty glass at the wall. It shatters, scattering the floor with broken bits.

"If you're trying to do magic, I won't work. Trust me, I've tried."

The voice echos from the cell across from me. Standing, I hop on my good leg to the bars, peering across from me. The torches create just enough light that I can see the outline of a figure in the cell.

"Why?" I ask, trying to see the man who spoke. A shuffling sounds across from me, and the man finally comes into the light. He's tall, like most elves, and is wearing a dirty, dark blue tunic with brown pants. His hair is surprisingly not that dirty- long, blonde hair with small braids in the way elves usually do. He looks around Rose's age, but his face looks different. Under his eyes are barely perceptible bags, which is saying something when it comes to elves. There are the beginnings or wrinkles on his face, and his whole expression looks tired and sad.

"Some spell," the man says in a clear voice. "It surrounds the whole Citadel. This 'palace,' some would call it- is the Citadel. No one except Narys, and whoever he gives permission to, is allowed to use magic."

"Well shit," I snap, letting the brunt of my anger out in my words. I never used to swear, or if I did it was in my head. I mean, I have to let my anger out somehow, and there are no punching bags down here...

"Yes, agreed," the man says, smiling a bit. For a second, recognition slams through me, but it's like deja vu. I can't place where it's from.

"I feel like I know you," I say, staring at the man. The elf's eyes light up, as if realizing something, and opens his mouth to speak.

Just then footsteps echo down the corridor, so we stop talking and step back, waiting to see who's coming. Elmer and two guards.

"Good morning," he says cheerily, smiling as he opens the cell door. I scowl, not responding. Elmer motions for me to follow him, and, knowing I have no other choice, follow him. I flick my gaze over to the cell of the elf I was talking to, but he is back in the shadows.

"Keep up," Elmer demands, grabbing my arm to pull me along.

"I can walk," I say bitterly, ripping my arm out of his grasp. True, I can walk, but I'm definitely limping. My leg has started throbbing again, hurting every time I put weight on it. The cut hasn't fully closed, so I'm sure there's some blood leaking out somewhere.