The weakness that permeated her muscles was extraordinary, and the girl couldn't help but wonder if this was what existence felt like. She must have led a life full of decisions that led to this moment, but she wasn't sure exactly what. Memories were sparse, fleeting flashes of objects and rooms that evoked a deep sense of nostalgia but remained frustratingly locked away, inciting nothing more than a feeling of longing. A watch, a room, a golden-haired blonde who smiled as if the world didn't matter—remnants of a life she must have had before these moments of excruciating pain and confusion. Whispers filled her head, an amalgamation of voices speaking in unison, yet she couldn't place them.
"Amara," they whispered, "Amara, the key to deliverance, the hope-bringer to the lost."
That was a bit too serious for her liking, but she accepted the name Amara; strangely, it seemed to fit her well. With no name-tag to look at, no clipboard with her name on it, Amara decided to trust the voice, cradling the name gently in the back of her mind for later use. Amara. It had a nice ring to it: mellow, quiet, smooth. Amara.
A harsh beam of warm light interrupted her thoughts, the whispers singing a disapproving symphony in response to the sudden, harsh light leaking from the quilted canopy above. Shifting to a spot in the grass better protected by the shade, Amara took a moment to survey her surroundings. Plush, soft grass tinged with muted shades of green lay around her, appearing untouched and fresh. In the areas where the light fought its way through the forest canopy, burned grass, a dry brown shade, interrupted the sea of green. Small wildflowers adorned the sidelines, their stems bending and twisting towards the sunlight they desperately craved. A soft breeze carried the smell of rainwater, accompanied by the distant chirping of birds, providing Amara with reassurance and solace that she wasn't alone. The scene before her was tranquil, a place seemingly untouched by the chaos of the world.
Clumsy, maladjusted hands gently rubbed the rough fabric of the cotton shift dress she wore. No matter how soft the grass felt, she couldn't stay on the forest floor. A loud growl emanated from her stomach, reminding Amara that survival wasn't suited for the idle, no matter how much she wished it were. Placing a hand on the trunk of a nearby tree, she struggled to push herself up, the motion requiring more effort than it should have. Head pounding and the world spinning, one thought crossed Amara's mind:
She had never felt this weak before.
Out of the corner of her eye, a glimmer of white metal shone through the canopy, catching her attention. Amara walked toward the light with a silent prayer, desperately hoping it was a sign of supplies she could use. With a swift kick to the bush, a small rucksack tumbled out onto the ground, revealing the glinting light to be a compass attached to one of the straps. The bag appeared worn and faded, bearing the marks of exposure to the elements and its time in the bush. Amara found the scratches and marks endearing as she carefully knelt down, rummaging through the bag in search of something to eat. Untying the straps that kept it closed, she shook the bag vigorously, but only a glass jar tumbled out, emitting a soft glow. At the sight of it, the static in her thoughts started to form words again, as if overjoyed.
"Open the jar, darling. It will help with your condition. Do not worry, it's safe. You won't be hurt."
Amid her hesitance, the whispers grew bolder, their urgency echoing in her ears. Amara drew in a deep breath, her hand trembling ever so slightly as she reached for the jar. With a flicker of anticipation, she lifted the lid, and a radiant light burst forth, casting its ethereal glow upon her body, penetrating her very being. A soothing warmth permeated her weakened form, revitalizing her with a newfound vigor, and the persistent hunger began to ebb away. She clasped the jar firmly, her gaze intent on unraveling the enigma behind its luminous essence. Upon closer scrutiny, her eyes discerned a delicate sigil etched onto the glass. Yet, the fractures running through its design obscured the intricate lines, leaving her wondering of its shape and profound significance.
Amara, liberated from the shroud of agony that had veiled her thoughts, allowed her gaze to sweep across her surroundings, eagerly taking in every intricate detail presented to her. The melodious trill of the birds persisted, beckoning her to seek out the hidden tapestry of life within the forest's embrace. Determined, she set forth, her steps guided by an emerging path that unfurled itself before her in the verdant carpet of grass. Each stride carried her deeper into the mysterious realm, her heart alight with hope, yearning to encounter an enigmatic presence or benevolent soul that could unveil the situation she was in. With unwavering resolve, she continued forward, her spirit aflame with the anticipation of discovery and illumination.