'Rosie..? Rosie..? Rosalie, my dear, wake up. Open your eyes, child. Come now, wake up.'
Furrowing her delicate eyebrows, Rosalie heard a distant whisper reaching out to her through the abyss of darkness. Uncertain if the voice belonged to a man or a woman, it seemed to be a chorus of many melding into one. Yet, it persistently called to her, urging her to awaken, until she relented and lifted her heavy eyelids.
Alas, all she encountered was darkness once more.
"Ugh..."
The young woman attempted to shift her body, but only a dull ache responded, as if someone were pulling her bones apart. Her head weighed heavily, and sharp throbs of a headache pounded her forehead with each rapid beat of her galloping heart.
As her mind began to clear, Rosalie finally remembered – she had been attacked on her way to the Holy Temple and rendered unconscious. Now, she found herself completely immobilized, her hands and legs bound with coarse, thick rope, and her mouth muffled by a piece of cloth.
