Sitting alone in her dimly lit chamber, Acantha leaned back into her chair, her fingers nervously drumming on the armrest. Her usually composed demeanor faltered as her mind drifted, unbidden, to a time long buried in the recesses of her memory. She closed her eyes, and the vivid images of her past began to play out in agonizing detail.
The scene unfolded in a quaint, sunlit village. It was quiet and serene, the kind of place untouched by the chaos of the outside world. A young girl, no older than five, darted through the dusty streets, her laughter ringing like a melody in the stillness.
"Come here, Sammy! I won't spare you this time!" a slightly older girl yelled, her voice filled with mock annoyance and genuine amusement. She was around eight, her hair tied back in a messy braid, her cheeks flushed from the chase.
"Catch me if you can, Acantha!" Sammy teased, her little feet carrying her swiftly as she rounded a sharp corner into a narrow, shadowed alleyway.
