Where am I?
I blink, trying to clear away the sleepy haze from my vision to get a better look at my surroundings. My head throbs above my left eye and my body is sore, feeling as if every inch of me is bruised. My left hand stings and my shoulder burns as if it was being held to a flame. I groan and blink again and then clutch my right shoulder. I try to sit up, but the fire in my shoulder increases and I hiss in a breath and fall against the pillow with a thump.
Breathe Aria, just breathe, I tell myself as I try, once again, to sit up. I manage to haul myself into an awkward leaning position against the headboard, but then my energy gives out and I can't lift myself up anymore.
In, out, in, out. God that hurts.
I lift up my left hand and find it bandaged. When my gaze falls to my chest, I find myself in my black tank with gauze wrapped around my right shoulder. I can see the blood seeping through it. The room begins to spin and I feel nauseous.
My eyes squeeze shut as my breaths quicken and sweat beads on my brow. I'm bleeding. Oh God, I'm bleeding in a strange bed in a strange place and I hurt everywhere.
I clench my teeth and reopen my eyes to get a look at my surroundings. As I presumed, I'm in a bedroom, lying on a rather large bed that has a navy comforter and dark wood frame. To my right rests a waist-high dresser and beside it is a closed door. To my left is an end table that harbors a blue-shaded lamp and black wind-up alarm clock. Across from me, is another closed door.
Despite its lack of personality, the bedroom seems normal, but I notice something strange. The walls aren't the typical flat or textured drywall, but it seems to be made of tree bark like that of an oak tree. Even the single window to my left has a frame made of branches twisted around one another in a delicate pattern. And above me is a chandelier also made of branches and tree root woven together, but instead of having light bulbs, it shelters the same floating balls of light from my dreams. They cast a soft, comfortable glow around the room as they bob up and down in place.
I blink, wondering where in the world I could possibly be, when my shoulder ignites in another burning shockwave and I gasp. I grasp onto it tightly as I hiss in labored breaths and my heart beat quickens. Black spots dance before my eyes and a layer of perspiration sticks to my skin and dampens my hair. I don't know what to do, it hurts so much but I can't move. I can't do anything except let the fire consume me, let it fill every crack and crevice as it drowns me.
"H-he…lp…help," the word whispers out of me in such a soft tone that even I can barely make it out. I swallow as my chest rises and falls at an alarming rate. "H-help," I try again, my voice thick and rasped from lack of use.
My throat burns along with my chest and my shoulder. I feel as if I'm drowning, forever suffocating in the agony that anchors me to this bed. My vision blurs and my hand twitches as I attempt to move my limbs, trying to get off of this godforsaken bed and find help.
I make it to the edge of the bed. I'm almost there, but as I grasp onto the end table with my left hand and attempt to stand, the door across from the bed flies open and slams into the wall as a blurred figure advances toward me. The shock of seeing the figure and the reverberating sound of the door colliding with the wall causes my grip on the end table to loosen and I fall forward. I try to twist my body so I can land on my good shoulder, but I'm falling too fast.
Just as my injured shoulder brushes against the wooden flooring, an arm lashes out and wraps around my waist, jerking me upward before throwing me onto the bed. The air flies out of my lungs at the impact and I groan.
I am shifted onto my back and then the hands move to my shoulder as they unwrap the gauze that sticks there, the once white fabric stained red. I turn away at the sight of the blood, feeling my stomach churn and nausea battle the flames in a fight for dominance.
"Bite this."
A cloth is shoved into my mouth and I gag. I wonder why on earth this cloth parts my lips when something wet lands on my shoulder and my back arches. I scream into the cloth and my jaws clamp onto it, my fingers curling into the comforter as the hydrogen peroxide bubbles over my wound.
I feel myself drift in and out of consciousness as the pair of hands clean and re-stitch the wound. Throughout it all, I keep my jaw locked on the cloth and my eyes squeezed shut as my body trembles, going into shock. I suddenly feel cold, my skin like ice but the fire burning in my shoulder forever present.
"Drink this."
The cloth is gently pulled out of my mouth and my head is tilted upwards. A cup is held to my lips as a cool liquid dribbles down my throat.
The refreshing water is gone too soon and the cup retreats from my lips as my head is gently placed back on top of the pillow. A moment later, one of the hands rests on my forehead and then moves to my cheek. The voice mumbles something but I can't make it out.
I feel a cool cloth fan out on my forehead and then the comforter being pulled up to my chin. My eyelids flutter and I shiver. I can already feel myself drifting as my body numbs.
"Sweet dreams."
. . .
"Why the hell did you bring her here?"
"Keep it down, Vul. You'll wake her up."
I furrow my eyebrows, my mouth like cotton as I run my tongue across the backs of my dry teeth.
"I could care less about waking her up, Leo. You brought a human here, to our home. Do you know what the Elders will do to us once they find out that you broke our most imperative rule?"
"Well they're not going to find out."
I sift through my memory as I try to pry my crusted eyes open, recalling my injuries, the bland room, and that voice. And then I remember the portal, the light, Mother, and the gun. The very gun she used to shoot me.
My eyes flutter open and I blink a few times to clear the foggy haze.
"They are going to find out eventually. You know they have eyes—"
"Shh, she's awake."
The fog is gone, and in its place are two boys, presumably late teens and with . . .
Oh my god they have animal ears on their head.
My eyes widen and I press myself farther into the sheets, wishing to disappear. The guy to my right seems to sense my distressed state and has the audacity to grin, revealing a row of gleaming and pointed white teeth. One of his furry red-brown ears twitches as if it were winking at me.
Oh God oh God oh God, I chant in my head as my chest rises and falls at a vigorous pace. He's part animal. How is that even possible? I'm dreaming, right? I have to be. This can't be real, can it?
A hand lands on my shoulder and I turn my gaze to the left, finding a literal golden boy in front of me. His curled locks of hair are golden in color, matching his slitted golden eyes and sun kissed ears. Even his skin has a golden tint to it.
"Calm down, Aria. You're safe here," he says in a comforting tone, but that doesn't help calm my raging nerves.
He knows my name. How the hell does he know my name? Who are they anyway? Better yet, what are they?
"Look at her. She's pathetic."
My eyes swivel to the red-eared boy, taking in his dark auburn waves that fall into his blazing amber eyes. The lines in his face are angular, but strong. The inner part of his eyebrows are pointed downward, giving him a natural mischievous aura about him. He narrows his eyes at me and twists his lips into a scowl.
"Vul," the golden boy snaps with a sudden iciness to his tone that makes me flinch. "Make yourself useful and pour our guest a bowl of the soup in the kitchen."
Vul—the amber-eyed boy—deepens his scowl and turns his glaring gaze back to me while pulling his lips into a snarl.
"Fine," he bites out and whips around on his heel before stalking out of the room. The door slams shut behind him, making my throbbing head pulse with a newfound wave of pain.
I rub at my temple while Golden Boy lowers himself onto the edge of the bed, his movements hesitant as if he expects me to jump up and sprint out of the room at moment. I don't blame him, what with how terrified I am at the moment.
"Sorry about my brother," he apologizes when he sees my gaze trained on the door that Vul exited from. "He's not much of a people person."
"I can tell," my voice is hoarse from lack of use and its dryness could rival that of the Sahara desert.
"Here." A small cup is thrust in front of my face, its contents sloshing around inside and almost dribbling over the edge.
I gently take it from his grasp and stare at the cloudy light blue liquid with appre-hension. When I glance back up at Golden Boy, he gives me an encouraging smile that is so genuine that I find myself bringing the wooden cup up to my lips and letting the liquid slither down my throat. As I guessed, it isn't water, or any other kind of beverage I have ever had. In fact, it doesn't taste like a beverage at all; instead I taste . . . cotton candy? I take another sip and let it rest in my mouth a moment before swallowing.
Yes, definitely cotton candy.
"What . . . what is that?" I ask once I have finished the cloudy liquid and handed it back to Golden Boy. He places the cup next to the wind up alarm clock.
My throat doesn't burn anymore and that cotton feeling is gone as well as the throbbing in my skull. In fact, I feel energized, my body seeming to hum with a sudden adrenaline that has my hands trembling again.
"Sanitas, a healing potion."
Potion? Those exist?
"Um . . ." I trail off, realizing that I don't know his name. "What's your name again?"
"Leo."
"Right, Leo. Well, Leo, where are we exactly?" I ask as I gaze around the bedroom once again. The shutters on the outside of the window are closed so I can't see the world beyond. The alarm clock says that it's four-fifteen, but is that in the afternoon? Or in the morning?
Leo opens his mouth but is cut off when the door bursts open and Vul stalks into the room with a bowl of steaming liquid in one hand and a spoon in the other.
"Here's your damned soup," he mutters as he thrusts the bowl out to me, a few drops spilling onto the comforter.
I blink, surprised at his unexpected entry, but take the bowl and spoon anyway. He makes sure that my fingers don't accidently brush against his.
Once the bowl is firmly in my grasp, he takes a few steps away from the bed and crosses his arms over his chest in annoyance, as if I disgust him. I decide to ignore his cruel attitude and instead turn to the bowl of soup in my hand. This time the liquid is golden, much like that of chicken broth, but it's too thick to see if there is anything else in it. I dip in the spoon and bring the liquid up to my lips.
It's surprisingly bitter. It reminds me of the spinach and liverwurst dinner our neighbor made for us when she found out about Nina's disappearance. And just like my neighbor's home cooked meal, I try to swallow it without spitting it back into the bowl, but a disgusted look still crawls its way across my face.
Vul laughs and Leo shoots him a glare as he reaches out and takes the bowl from me. He holds it up to his nose and takes a whiff of it. His face twists into a disgusted scowl.
"You jackass, you put goldenseal and wormwood in it." Leo scolds but Vul only continues with his laughter as I swallow my own spit multiple times to help get rid of the taste. It doesn't work.
Leo turns to me with an apologetic frown. "I'll be right back with something to help get rid of the taste."
I only nod as my face continues to scrunch up in disgust. Leo stomps out of the room. Once he is gone, Vul's laughter dies in his throat and he turns to me with a serious expression.
"You don't belong here," his tone is calm, yet holds a bitterness that puts the dreadful taste of the soup to shame.
"Where is here, exactly?" I choke out, feeling bile rise up my throat, but I swallow it down.
Vul's wide lips curl up into a Cheshire cat-like grin that takes up the whole bottom half of his face.
"Why, little girl, you're in Caelum. Or in other words, Heaven."