The sound of clacking wheels brought Eimi back to the present. She listened as they rolled against the hard floor. Her blood pressure spiked, what were they doing?

She felt the gag around her mouth being untied, and the fabric over her eyes being undone. Light seeped into her vision. In front of her was a mirror, and her own reflection stared back. She moved her mouth for the first time in a long time and she focused her eyes upward onto Pixie.

"What's going on?" She was surprised how easily she'd found her voice, even if it was hoarse.

Pixie looked at her for the longest time, she blinked and then she sighed, raking a hand through her blue hair. The blue hair that Eimi had come to love, that she'd come to associate with safety and friendship. "I'm sorry, Eimi. I have too." She said. Eimi waited for more explanation but it didn't seem like any was coming.

Pixie turned away, looking at the man behind her.

The man was tall, and dreamy, but not in a good handsome kind of way. He was dreamy in the way that it seemed to Eimi that he kept glitching in and out of the realm of reality.

She frowned at Pixie, she wanted so many more answers to her questions, but even just a look told her that she wouldn't get them. The man stepped toward her, and Eimi felt herself tense up.

He chuckled, sensing her action. "Eimi, Eimi, Eimi." He tutted, his voice was like the ticking of a clock, gentle and steady and almost hypnotising. "You have so many questions, don't you. I can tell." He raised an eyebrow, studying her. "Don't worry. I can feel your fear from here." He took another step toward her.

She opened her mouth to scream, or to call for help, or do something. But nothing came out. When Pixie undid the bindings, Eimi felt her limbs release and drop down by her side. She breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that she wasn't tied up anymore. 

Her relief was, of course, short-lived, though. She stretched out her limbs, getting ready to burst into a sprint, not that she knew where she would run to. She just knew that she'd have to run somewhere. 

The man stepped back, away from her. He studied her cautiously, as if expecting her to run, daring her to. He waited for her to move, and when she didn't, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. "You're going to go on a journey." He told her. 

Her lips drooped into a frown. "What?" 

"You have to find the Viden, okay?" He told her, and then he shoved her toward the mirror. She was about to talk, as she stumbled forward, she stuck her arms out to brace herself against the mirror. She didn't even feel the surface of the mirror, as she was plunged straight through the glass. 

It was like being plunged into ice-cold water. Flailing through the surface of the freezing ocean and down onto wet cobbles. She scraped her knees, tearing the denim of her jeans and the flesh of her knees. She hissed back the gasp of pain that bubbled up her throat and spilt over her lips. 

She could hear the gentle strum of fingers across a lyre, and her eyes opened wider. Where was she? She turned around, drifting slowly in a circle and taking in her surroundings as she did so. It was raining gently, a drizzle that felt like silk as it washed down her skin. She remembered when she was eight that her father taught her about Tudors, the houses were stone with brick roofs and black stripes around the white bricks. 

That was what the houses around her looked like now. 

As if she'd gone back in time somehow. 

Eimi pushed herself back to her feet, she made a point of not looking at the damage of her broken knees. If she looked at them, she'd feel the pain more, wasn't that how it always worked? She breathed in the smell of roast chicken, that was wafting through the air, instantly her stomach rumbled. She couldn't remember the last time she ate anything.

She was about to follow the scent, when a loud creak attracted her attention to an opening door. A woman stepped out, and Eimi frowned. The woman frowned at her, Eimi stared back.

"Can I help you?" She asked after a minute or two.

Eimi opened her mouth, but when no sound came out, she closed it again. She tried again, "Excuse me..." She mustered her politest voice, "Could you... Are you able to tell me where I am?"

The woman's eyes roamed down her body, drinking her in, as they widened. "Oh, Gosh. You're bleeding." She moved toward Eimi, her hands outreached to grab her, "You have to come with me, love. You can't bleed out here, anyone could see."

"I fell over." Eimi tried to explain, as the woman grabbed her wrist and started pulling her inside the house. "I don't know where I am, or what this... What this is."

"Did you hit your head?" The woman asks, grabbing a handful of Eimi's hair, turning her head this way and that, examining her. She was being a lot more forceful then Eimi liked.

"I didn't hit my head." Eimi said.

The woman let go of her, and nodded. "Good. So, what is your name, love?"

"My name is Eimi." She stated.

The woman led her into what must be the living room, a small fire burning away in the hearth, and sat her down on a sofa. Eimi nestled into the sofa, it was the most comfortable thing she'd sat on in ages.

"Eimi." The woman echoed, "That's a lovely name. My name is Fulvia."

Eimi felt herself smile, "You have a beautiful name."

Fulvia grinned, "Thank you." She once again spotted the blood trailing Eimi's knee and she shook her head. "Oh gosh. You should get that cleared up. Here, I'll go run a bath for you. My husband will be home soon, he's bringing food."

She watched Fulvia disappear upstairs, she seized the chance to explore the house, maybe find out some information about where she was. She pulled drawers and cupboards open, searching for something... Anything. She found nothing of any clue. She went to the kitchen, but it was just a room of spices and herbs and dried food in jars. She half expected to see an Alexa plugged into the kitchen socket. But of course, there wasn't one. There didn't even seem to be a plug.

"Your bath is ready!" Fulvia appeared at the top of the stairs. "Follow me."

Eimi glanced up, without thinking. She followed Fulvia to the top of the stairs. She was a bit apprehensive about having a bath in a house that didn't belong to her. But Fulvia seemed completely indifferent to the whole thing. How many people had baths here?

She waited until Fulvia left her alone in the bathroom, and then she climbed into the tub and slipped down into the water.

For the entire time she was in prison, she had missed having baths so badly. She wanted hot water and soap and to feel the weight wash off her, the blood of her parents leaving her skin. She didn't imagine that she would have her first bath in a house that didn't belong to her, in a time period that wasn't her own.

She closed her eyes, exhaled years of grief and anguish. She slid down the bath and sunk under the water.

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