We start walking towards the direction the creatures have come from. They're walking in front of us, taking long, big strides, that we have trouble keeping up with them. The reigns of their horses, or the creatures that resemble horses, are tight in their grip as they walk together hand in hand.
I watch the grass crumble under their feet, but it doesn't turn to stone. It just pops back up, like it's made out of rubber. Maybe longer contact is needed for it to shift its shape.
I look up at the stormy sky, a gray whirl streaked by thunderbolts. It creeps me out that there's no sound at all - no lightning, no wind, no nothing.
"Tell me," I say authoritatively. I can see, from the corner of my eye, Damon whip his head up in surprise, towards me. There's a what the hell do you think you're doing expression on his face, but he doesn't say anything, and I don't have to explain myself to him. "Why is the sky like this?" I try to stop my voice from quivering. I don't think I stand higher than these creatures, I don't think I have authority over them - quite the opposite, I fear them. But they seem to think they're below me or, in the least, they're following orders given to them.
One of them looks up at the sky, like he hasn't even noticed it before, "The sky changes with our Queens mood," by the tone of his voice I conclude that's Lesteros speaking. His voice is much warmer and friendlier than the other ones, who hasn't even introduced himself to us.
I swallow. She can't be in a very good mood if she's feeling storm and thunderbolts.
"But why is there no sound?" I push for further explanation.
"The sound, my lady?" every time he addresses me with my lady, I can feel my cheeks turning red.
"Yes. There's no thunder, or wind," I explain.
The other one releases a large breath of air. "That happens only when our Queen is extremely agitated," he answers, "Keep asking her this many unnecessary questions and you will see as much thunder as your heart wishes," he spits out, clearly annoyed.
"Dantos," Lesteros says in a calming tone of voice. His voice is warm, full of affection, but there's also a bit of warning in there. The other creature - Dantos, I take is his name - looks at him before his shoulders slump and he buries his look to the ground apologetically.
"You can ask us as many questions as you would like," Lesteros looks at me over his shoulder, something similar to a smile decorating his wide, thick lips.
My mind starts railing, I have so many questions, I don't know which one to ask first. Before I get a chance to pick one, a familiar sound fills my ears. It's so strange, hearing something again - something other than voices - something so normal in this abnormal environment. I can hear the rush of water again, but now, we're way closer to it than we were before.
I look back and the fact that we came a long way from the spot we were standing on surprises me. We're almost at the bottom of the hill.
When I turn my head around to look straight in front of myself, I see it. The river. It looks quite normal, as rivers back home do. I'm surprised the water is not black as well.
It's narrow, but fast. It's so clean I can almost see the bottom, which means it can't be deep. When we approach closer, I can see it doesn't run straight - there's a curve. Maybe it goes in a circle, maybe that's why it seemed to me like the sound is coming from everywhere when I've first heard it.
Just as I wonder how we're going to pass to the other side, I notice a path made out of stones in front of us. I guess I wasn't able to see it because of the size of the creatures in front of us. The horses jump over the river without any problems, Lesteros and Dantos have to step on just one stone - with the tips of their fingers, because their feet are much larger than the stones - to get to the other side. But Damon and me have to step on every stone, jumping from one to another because the distance between them is still too wide for us, dancing left to right because of their zigzag formation.
"Who is your Queen?" I decide to ask once we're on the other side of the river, since I was given permission to ask whatever I want.
"She's.." I notice confusion in Lesteros' voice as he struggles to answer my question, "She's the Queen," he says, like that explains everything.
"No, I mean, what is she?" I prolong my question, "A vampire, a werewolf?"
Dantos bursts into laughter even before I finish my question, but Lesteros' shoulders tense before he starts shaking his head. I don't know is that an answer to my question or is he disapproving Dantos' behavior, or maybe both.
"Please," I notice how tight Lesteros' voice has gotten, like he would rather scream at me, but his manners don't allow him to, "Don't insult our Queen like that. Vampires and lycanthropes are foul creatures," his voice is full of disgust, like just saying the names of their species burns his throat.
I feel Damon tense beside me. He's been quiet the whole time. I'm not used to Damon being quiet. He always has a comment, even if he knows it will get him in trouble.
I frown. "Foul?" I ask.
"Unnatural," Lesteros explains almost immediately, "They were created by magic, not nature. Different species look differently because they have been born like that, but vampires and werewolves are made."
There's as much logic in that explanation as there isn't. But then again, humans tend to show distaste for every other species that is not human. We hate the unknown, and that hate is born from fear. We think we're above everything else and don't acknowledge any other species as equal. But Lesteros doesn't seem to show hate towards vampires and werewolves because they're different, but because they're not born. I guess, to him, they're what robots are to us.
I inhale sharply through my teeth. "You shouldn't have come, Damon," I say quietly, almost bitterly. I'm annoyed because he had put himself in danger for no reason at all. Him being here only causes more trouble for both of us, since these people, or whatever they are, despise vampires. I barely hear those words coming out of my mouth myself, so I'm sure the creatures before us haven't heard me either. But I know Damon did.
He stays silent for a while before answering with a certain amount of resolution in his voice. "You saved my brothers life," he swallows audibly, "I couldn't just let you go alone, not after that."
Wrong answer. If anyone owes me anything, it's Stefan. Damon doesn't owe me jack.
"I saved Elena's life as well," I challenge him.
When you're over someone, you don't mind saying their name. But Damon leaves Elena out from every situation and every conversation. Like she doesn't exist at all. Which is how I know he's still holding on to her, even if it is by a thread.
"Yes," he squeezes out, "You saved her too."
I open my mind to retort, when Lesteros cuts in.
"Here we are!" he shouts, which is when I notice we've fallen quite behind them. They're already at the top of the hill, looking down.
So I hurry behind them and Damon follows me. I bet he wishes he could use his supernatural speed now.
When I reach the top, I come to a halt. I stop so abruptly that Damon bumps into me.
"What the - " he starts, but then shuts his mouth when his eyes fall on what's on the other side of the hill.
"Is that..?" I swallow.
He doesn't say anything for several moments, droplets of fear probably sliding down his throat. Then, he opens his mouth and says quietly into my ear, "If you meant to ask is that a gigantic, rotting tree, then the answer is yes. Yes, yes it is," he dismisses me like the sight in front of us is something you see everyday. His breath is neither hot nor cold, but it tickles my skin.
I inch away from him.
"Welcome to Cavis Terrae," Lesteros roars, his voice thick and loud, full of pride, "Come!" he mimics with his hand for us to follow before both him and Dantos start running down the hill, their horses right beside them.
When we start going downhill, I realize why Damon's been so quiet this whole time. Not because he's afraid, but because he was trying to find an escape route. He doesn't trust the creatures, despite Lesteros' nice manners and mellow nature.
Of course, I've been thinking about running as well, but there's nowhere to run. Or, better said, there's too much space to run and none at all to hide. Plus, the horses are so fast, and judging by their giant feet so are the creatures, we wouldn't even stand a chance. They would catch us in a matter of minutes. Seconds, even.
Damon was wrong, the tree is not rotting - it's simply old. Its color is dark brown, bordering with black and the trunk has unbelievably many wrinkles. Everything about it is unbelievable, starting from its size. I've never seen a tree quite so big. A tree so big shouldn't even exist. With it's long, wide roots which are, somehow, above the surface, it's the size of a small town. All the residents of Mystic Falls would fit into it.
The roots go for miles, until they finally reach the tall tree trunk in the middle, then they keep extending to the other side, too far for my eyes to reach. The roots are enormous, thick and tall, like buildings. The space between them is even and wide, but most of all - muddy. The trunk towers above it all, right in the middle, like a lighthouse. Its branches are long and sickly looking, there are no leafs on them, but there are some vines hanging from their pointy ends.
It's dark, so dark that I can't see absolutely anything until Lesteros and Dantos each light a torch and start leading us between the roots. I wonder where those torches came from, but I couldn't see anything in the dark, I could only hear them shuffling things around and my own heavy breathing. In the dark, Damon inched toward me, his hand hovering next to mine, his little finger touching mine. I don't know if he did it on purpose, if those twitches were intentional or an accident, but whatever the reason, I didn't move. I felt safer with him near me, feeling him next to me, even though touching a vampire will never stop creeping me out - their bodies are always on the room temperature. I never thought there will come a day when I'll associate Damon Salvatore with safety.
The sky is not gray here - it's completely black. With no thunderbolts. It looks like someone painted the canvas black and hanged it up there.
The eery silence tickles my nerves. The lack of sound is truly frightening, so I concentrate on the sound of our feet meeting the ground.
Then, I hear something - a buzzing sound. Flapping of wings.
I can feel a light wave of air on my face.
I look up at Damon's illuminated face - he had heard it as well. He's looking around, his eyes intent on finding the source of the sound. I wonder does he see better in the dark as well. I have never thought of that before. It seems logical since vampires can't walk in the sunlight and they hunt by night.
"Don't be alarmed," the sound of Lesteros' voice makes me jump, "Those are just the residents of Cavis Terrae," he says like he can read our minds. "They're hiding. Were not used to having visitors here," he offers a further explanation.
When I look at it closer, and better, this place does seem to resemble a town, in its own way. There are dents in the roots, holes that resemble an entrance. And the way the space between the roots is organized, it reminds me of streets.
"No?" Damon asks sarcastically, "You mean this is not the top vacation spot?" he comments. I look at him, at first horrified. He might think we got nothing to lose anymore, but we do. As of now, everything is uncertain and we have to take every step carefully.
"Vacation?" Lesteros asks confused. Apparently, he doesn't understand sarcasm, so I grin at Damon. It might have been a dumb move, but it provided me with a feeling of normalcy. Damon keeping his mouth shut might be safer, but its frightening in its own way. "I do not know of that word."
Dantos grunts unappreciative. "It's where the royalty goes," he says, "Elisium."
"Hmm," is all Lesteros says to that. He doesn't doubt the other creature. "Vacation," he repeats, like a child who just learned a new word and can't stop saying it.
After what seems like hours of walking, we finally reach the trunk. There's a hole in it, shaped like a door, with an arch above, large enough for Lesteros and Dantos to squeeze in. They step aside, allowing us to go first this time. I look at Damon, only to catch him already looking at me. We share a moment, a look of uncertainty, until he finally nods and steps in. I follow him.
The creatures leave their torches aside, so it becomes dark again. But as soon as we round the first corner, a slight amount of light pours in. I look up to see where it's coming from, but as far as I can see, there are no openings.
"There," Damon finds himself beside me, pointing his finger at something on the inside wall of the tree. Then I see it, something hanging there, something like a tiny bird cage, but covered with plastic. There's something in it, a bunch of somethings, bright and yellow and tiny. There are cages every few feet, I notice.
"Fireflies?" I ask.
Damon is looking around, his eyes going wildly from one spot to another. Just as I think he's too distracted to hear me, he nods affirmatively. "I think so," he answers.
It's damp in here, and it smells funny. Like Spring gone terribly wrong.
We reach the flight of stairs, built in the ground, going in the circle.
We start climbing them, and we climb and climb and climb and just when I think there's no end to it, we reach the surface.
We reach a room, strangely beautiful, as beautiful as a room built inside of a tree trunk that looks like an evil creatures from a Grimm tale can be.
There's no mud anymore, but beautiful light brown wood, hard and steady under my feet. There are vines all over the walls and on those vines there are flowers, all painted in black.
It seems so unnatural, but the color doesn't seem to be fake. I guess everything grows black here.
There are holes in the trunk, holes that resemble windows, letting the air in, and that weird scent from earlier.
In the middle of the room, there's a throne made out of dark branches, probably from this very tree, because they look like sewed bones. The throne is simple in its construction, but it's enormous, like it's made for a giant.
Which is ironic, because there's a tiny woman sitting on it. If it weren't for her face, I'd think that she's a child.
Her face is strong and hard and determined - quite frankly, she looks pissed. Her hair is orange, sunset orange, and there are two big, deep blue marbles for her eyes. And her skin.. well, her skin is green. But not that weird too-dark-to-be-green color I'm seeing everywhere, but green like a cut of fresh grass back home.
"Who is this?" her voice echoes through the room, shaking every bone in my body. There are goosebumps on my skin, even though I'm neither hot nor cold - this place doesn't seem to have a temperature.
Lesteros falls to his knees, his head bowed down, his eyes glued to the ground, before speaking up, "They came through the portal, Your Grace. You sent us for them."
Her expression stays the same for quite some time, until something flashes on her face. A memory. "Oh yes, yes, yes," her voice doesn't seem so frightening anymore, but then, she fixes her look back on us. "What are you?" she roars angrily, "I don't like the color of your skin," she comments.
She doesn't like the color of my skin? She's freaking green.
"It's so unusual," she murmurs to herself, watching me carefully.
Unusual? My skin? Does she own a mirror?
"You look like you've been rolling around in the mud. I can't allow pigs to live in my land. Off with her head!" she orders dramatically, raising her hand in the air and pointing her long finger at me.
I swallow. My throat is dry so words wouldn't be able to come through it, not even if I had any. My mind is a desert, it's like everything inside of me stopped working, ignited by fear, when she pointed that finger at me.
"She's a witch," Damon says calmly, but I can recognize the panic in his voice. He seems to think this piece of information could cause more good than harm.
"A witch?" she says amused, "We don't have many witches here," her voice is flat at this discovery. She shifts her attention to Damon with a sullen look on her face, "And what are you?"
"He's human," I say almost instantly when I remember Lesteros' words about vampires, at least before Damon gets a chance to screw everything up with what seems an appropriate answer to him.
I can feel him looking at me from the corner of his eyes, surprised I would speak up now when I wasn't able to before. Honestly, the sound of my own voice surprises me as well.
"A human," the Queen nods, "For a moment there I thought you're a vampire or a werewolf or some other disgusting creature," she frowns, crinkling her small round ball of a nose, "It's not like human is any better, but at least now I don't have to hunt you down." As she says those words, something sparks her memory, "Wait!" she screams - as if anyone is going anywhere - "If you're human, that means you're a slave!" she seems quite proud of herself to remember that piece of information. "So why are you allowed to speak up without permission? And where are your chains?" she insists.
So here, humans are slaves and, somehow, me being a witch doesn't classify me as a human. It doesn't classify me for slaughter either, even though my power is strictly magic, the same magic vampires and werewolves came out from. But then again, I was born like this, like a witch, in a family line old almost as witches themselves, so I guess that classifies my power as natural. Witch magic does come from nature, after all.
I wonder are there many humans here, enslaved. How did they get here? My throat tightens and my mind starts raging wild at the thought of thousand innocent humans being enslaved by these creatures by no other fault but what species they belong to.
Then, her eyes go wide, freakishly wide - like in the cartoons - and start shimmering like she's about to cry. She stands up, and I gasp - there's no clothes on her body. She's completely naked. But the green on her skin seems to serve to something similar of a shell.
Big, thin, orange wings - the same orange as her hair - flutter from her back, and she clasps her hands before her.
"Is this a love story?" she squeals, and all of a sudden both her voice and expression on her face match her childlike posture. All of a sudden, light pours in through the windows. Sunlight. Its beams reach us, color our skin, but they're not warm. It's like they don't have no other purpose but being a decoration. I remember Lesteros saying the weather here is influenced by the Queens state of mind.
For a moment there I'm confused about how old she actually is, but when she opens her mouth to speak again, I realize that it doesn't really matter.
"Is that why you fled your world?" she asks cheerful, all chipper, like a small bird, "It rare for a master and a slave to fall in love, but it does happen," she talks like she's not even talking about our lives, but about a content of some book or a movie, "I can see why you would leave. Humans frown upon their own nationalities and races mixing, I can't even imagine what they would think about species mixing. So short minded, human beings," she spits those words out.
I wonder how come she knows so much about humans, but I don't ask. I don't have enough courage to.
When we don't answer, she grows impatient. "Well, is it?" she raises her voice at us.
"No!" I yell back.
My mind goes to Jeremy. There's only one boy I've ever loved and that's Jeremy Gilbert. If I would flee our world for any man willingly, that would be him.
But thinking about Jeremy only creates a hole in the pit of my stomach, when I remember how easily he backed away when he realized I don't have my memories, and how easily I had let him. How I didn't miss him, or need him, at all. How without remembering who he is, I didn't feel any romantic connection to him at all, but rather protective brotherly one.
"No," I say again, this time more calmly, "Us being here is a mistake, we fell through the portal by accident." Well, at least one of us did.
"Oh," the Queen says disappointingly, slumping back on her throne, "Mistakes and accidents are so human like. Only mortals have a reason to worry about them," she dismisses me, yawning, "I'm bored with you now. Throw them in the dungeon."
She's overreacting, she's being dramatic with that throw them in the dungeon command. Just like she was with off with her head one.
At least that's what I think until I feel someones strong hands on my arms, squeezing them behind my back, and I'm being lifted off of the ground.