Fate and Destiny (The Fated Series, #2)

Chapter 81 - Branka - Acquaintances

Gods my head hurts.
It's dark out as far as I can tell, but even opening my eyes is somehow painful. My body feels tingly, weak. Nothing moves when I tell it to, and even when I try to my head pulses its resistance and begs me to go back to sleep.

I remember falling asleep, only being conscious long enough to only have seen flashes of light, muffled noises that sound a mile away, and more darkness. I fell asleep before, but I can't this time. There are too many things to do and not enough time for me to do them all.

My head gets dizzy, temporarily blocking out my vision which only makes me want to fall into sleep even more. I'd shake my head awake if I wasn't sure that doing so would only have me hurling up stomach contents and blood. The metallic taste of blood is already in my mouth, and Gods know I hate the taste of bile and blood.

My vision clears up slowly, though the blurriness still sticks to the edge of my vision, only allowing what's directly in front of me to be visible. It's still hard to see with such little light in here...

Where is here, exactly?

I focus on my hands, feeling what's beneath them. It feels like some kind of fabric. Wool? Cashmere? Either way, it's odd. I don't remember wearing nor bringing anything made of wool or cashmere - though I would've paid a pretty gold coin for it. That, and a way out of this fucking forest -

I jolt upright and instantly regret it. My vision goes out again, along with whatever horribly tasting liquid was rotting at the bottom of my stomach. I turn to avoid splattering it all over myself, only turning has me suddenly falling before slamming into the ground.
By the time I'm registering my surroundings once more, my head pounds, my lungs hurt from the vomiting, and my whole body is shaking uncontrollably as my knees and hands struggle to keep me from falling face down in my own filth.

My stomach finally stops contracting, but my lungs still burn and my body is still shaking. I can barely see the dirt beneath my nails, but I do notice that the ground isn't dirt or rock, but wood. Before I can try and lift my head to take in my nearest surroundings, my whole body starts to tilt one way.

I don't even stop myself from falling sideways, thinking that the ground would be a bigger comfort. My body never touches it. Instead, I fall into something warm and strong. I feel an arm wrap around me, and that's all I feel before letting my eyes fall closed.

*****

I wake up what feels like a month later. My head still aches but not as furiously, my body still tingles but not so pointedly, and the wool is still beneath me, though now there's some on top of me as well, tucked beneath my arm. I'm on my side this time rather than on my back, and one arm is folded beneath the pillow under my head.

I open my eyes. The edges of my vision are still blurry, but I can see enough to find a blurry fireplace, a small table, and wood paneling of what must be a house of some sort. There's a window, only showing the azure blue sky and a few cirrus clouds.
The sun's setting and I have no idea what day it is.

I test my limbs, flexing and stretching in slow, small movements. I won't go far, but I only need to sit up. I use both arms to lift my torso, stopping halfway when my head goes light. My vision stays, thank the Saints, and I keep going slowly until I'm sitting up. Out of breath but up and mostly conscious.
That's when I notice that I'm on some kind of sofa, old and worn. The fire's warmth suddenly feels as if it's in my body and I throw the blanket off. My feet hit the comforting cold ground and I sit for a moment, feeling every inch of me go heavy and feel as if I couldn't even snap a twig. I wait for my stomach to quiet and my heart to settle before turning my neck which is sore too, to see about the room.

It's a cabin. No doorways except two, one leading outside, the other to a bedroom, most likely. The kitchen is open, its countertops filled with plants, fruits, vegetables, bowls, meat, and knives laying next to some cut and crushed herbs. Nothing smells as if something's been made recently, nor does it look like someone's been here in a while. Just the tang of the fire burning and the whisper of pine from the forest.