The sound of the rain roused her from unconsciousness. Her head was swimming and her eyes would not focus, but she was awake. A cold and wet sensation was embracing her legs, rooting her to the spot where she sat and keeping her drained of all her energy. She would have let herself drift back to sleep right then and there, if not for her instinct telling her to remain in the waking world if she desired to live.
A radiant, orange glow was beckoning to her. It was only a few meters away, flickering with enough spirit to pierce through the haze that filled her mind. She stared, willing her eyes to work properly so she could look more at the light and its source: a campfire.
Using all of the power she could muster, she crawled toward the warmth on her hands and knees until she was sitting next to the fire. Comfortable in the heat emitted by the flames, she relaxed and did not move from that spot for a long while. The fire sizzled as it met with the rain, but it did not go out. If anything, it burned with even more passion, embers leaping into the air before being lost to the darkness. Life began to trickle back into her the longer she sat near the smoldering flames. Her vision started to clear, the pounding in her head faded into the background, and a small amount of energy returned to her limbs.
After lounging around in the glow of the fire for god knows how long, she took a look around to analyze her surroundings. The darkness was only just repelled by the light of the campfire, and she could not see very far. It was drizzling, and she could hear the sound of rain drops hitting the ground; when she listened closely, there was also a rushing sound—more water, she realized. If she had been washed up here, that would explain why her clothes felt like they weighed more than they should have.
Speaking of her clothes, she looked down at herself and the clothing that clung to her skin. Several layers of red and white fabric, all of them soaking wet, covered her upper body, and they were held in place by a strap with a golden buckle in the center. She was wearing a pair of uncomfortably short pants which were held in place by a belt with the same design as the one that held her shirt in place. A long piece of orange cloth was wrapped around her neck, and somehow it had remained dry when nothing else had—if only she had some proper clothing. Her stomach, lower back, and legs were exposed to the elements, and they were numb from the cold.
She huddled in the warmth for minutes more. When she finally felt compelled to move, she stood up on shaky legs and paced the fire. Her revival had been a close one; even now, death's scythe seemed to rest on her neck. Something must have led to this awakening on a darkened, desolate beach: something huge, something impossible to forget. Yet, she could not remember anything past waking up underneath the starless sky with no one but a fire to speak to.
Unfortunately, she could not stay here forever. While staying near the luminosity of the flames was an alluring thought, she was overcome with curiosity: where was she, was there a reason that she was here, what had she been doing before, why was she unable to remember anything?
The fire refused to be put out by the rain. It crackled and spluttered under the onslaught of falling droplets, but it did not seem like it would die out soon. However, she had a feeling that she would not last as long should she decide to stick around.
The wall she had been sitting against was less of a wall than it was a heap of stones. It was about her height, and she had a feeling she was not particularly tall. A small red object rested at the bottom of the pile, where she had been sitting earlier. She walked over to pick it up, and was immediately glad that she had done so. The thing was oddly shaped, like a rod with weights on both ends, but more importantly it had resisted the effects of the cold as if it was being heated from the inside. She held it in both hands, pleased to have found another source of warmth—she could carry this, at that—but she nearly dropped it when a blade sprang from one end, revealing the object to be a sword. Although she did not recognize the sword's hilt or the silver beam of energy it was projecting, it felt at home in her hands. Did this belong to her?
Before she could examine the sword more closely, movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She whipped around the face the direction she had seen it in, brandishing the sword in front of her with both hands. However, the movement was not a threat but a light, the same color as the fire, moving around in the distance. It was already tiny, but it threatened to disappear completely as the owner moved farther and farther away. It did not take her long to decide to leave safety behind and chase after hope.
The light, which she guessed was a lantern or torch of some sort, bobbed back and forth in the distance. There was a small book where she had found the sword, but there was no time to read it or check its condition, so she just grabbed it and held it in her other hand as she dashed into the pitch blackness.
"H-hey!" she yelled, summoning her voice for the first time since she awoke. It was weak and she knew it had not carried far enough to be heard, so she tried again. "Wait, please!"
The light still did not respond. It floated ever farther away, and even though she pushed herself as hard as she could, it seemed to move faster than she could run. Her foot caught on something, and she flew forwards and hit the slick dirt of the trail. She lost her grip on the sword, and it skidded away from her, but she scrambled to her feet and snatched up the weapon.
Fate did not decree that she would catch up to the light or its bearer, and it vanished from her sight soon after. Still, she kept running. A glance over her shoulder told her that the other light was gone as well. There was no going back now; the only thing she could do was pray that she could run fast enough to locate the orange dot in the darkness that surrounded her.
She ran and ran, tripping again and again, but getting up each and every time. After hitting the grond for the fifth time, she finally noticed her speed starting to decline. Pain flooded her senses, and she knew that her legs were covered in cuts and bruises. Of all the times to wear what was basically a sports bra and shorts...
Slowing to a walk, she held out her sword as she stumbled in what she hoped was the right direction. Even if the blade gave off enough light for her to see two steps ahead of her, there was no way to tell what way she was going. If she walked for another five minutes and ended up at the campfire, she might just give up and let her life dwindle away beside the very thing that had rekindled it only minutes before. Should that happen, there would be no rising out of the ashes.
That fate was not to be. Her foot found a section of the ground that felt different than the rest of the trail, and she figured out that it was a metal square embedded in the dirt. When she stood in the center, it shifted and started to move, sinking below the earth. The sudden movement coupled with the slick surface was too much for her, unsteady and fatigued as she was, and she fell to her backside as the elevator moved downwards. She got up much slower this time; after the initial rush of adrenlaine that had carried her through the darkness, her body was back to the state she had found it in: bruised, battered, and broken.
The elevator eventually came to a stop, and she breathed out in relief as she realized she could now see her surroundings. The sound of the rain was long gone, and the only ambience in this place was a low hum that was not unpleasant to the ears. Her new environment was a sort of subterranean paradise, and it preferable to being on the surface. The sword felt lighter in her hands as she disembarked the lift and set foot on solid ground.
She started to walk along the path that was outlined for her. The cove where the elevator was stationed on one end of a huge cave, which extended as far as she could see. The view was like something out of a fantasy. The path she was on rested atop an immense void. It was attached to the wall near the elevator and stretched in the other direction, most likely to the opposite side of the cave. Out of curiosity, she placed her belongings in the center and dropped to her stomach. The ground was cool to the touch.
Crawling to the edge of the platform, she peeked out from above the ledge. For the first time, she noticed her hair; a red ponytail was dangling over the abyss. She felt refreshed, like cool air was rising from below. She searched for a pebble to drop, but there were none around her. She could have very well dropped her sword or the book, but she abandoned the idea as soon as it came to mind. Only an idiot would willingly drop their weapons or key items off a cliff.
She backed away from the ledge and stood up, not forgetting to take her things. The pathway was partially made of some sort of luminescent material, which lined the outline of the platform so she would not walk off. It was a little unnecessary, as the entire cave seemed to have a brightness to it.
While she walked, her mind fell into a stupor. The relative peace of this place was helpful for her mental state, and she was now able to focus on something other than her base needs. However, she was still exhausted from sprinting through the darkness in pursuit of the torchlight that had coaxed her away from her starting point. It had done a very good job of avoiding her. It could have very well been a will-o'-wisp trying to lead her astray. She bit her lip at the thought of having been tricked; she had fallen for the trap—hook, line, and sinker.
Nonetheless, it had led her here, to this place far below the surface. There was something special, something mystical about this cave. Simply being here made her feel calm. While her legs still felt like lead, she felt much better than she had only minutes earlier. Some piles of white boxes lay just up ahead, meaning it was time to take a break.
Sitting down on one of the boxes, she made herself comfortable. It had been on her mind for a while now, but this was the first opportunity she had gotten to examine the two objects she had woken up with: the blade and the book. They were probably connected to her in some way, but her frustrating case of amnesia prevented her from knowing how. Both felt familiar, like she had owned them for her whole life, but she could not pinpoint her exact age. She gave the sword a few practice swings, enjoying the sound of the blade whistling through the air. Who knows, she could have been a master swordswoman in her previous life!
Once she had finished playing with the sword, she set it down and took a look at the book. It was more of a journal than anything, because the cover was bound in leather and there was a black pen with gold trim nestled inside. She flipped through it quickly, doing her best not to tear any of the damp pages. A little over half of the journal was filled with entries written in neat penmanship. There were no drawings, but on each page was a wealth of information. She flipped to a random one and started from the top.
XX-XX-XX
The blacksmith says that my sword will be ready in about three days. Until then, I am to use this substitute, that was lended to me from the town's armory. While it is not necessarily of poor quality, I doubt I will be able to wield it to the best of my abilties. The problem is, I am sure that I will have to fight the creature before my blade is ready. I am planning to visit the tavern and see if anyone will aid me in looking for its lair and further defeating it. In the future, I should see about training myself with other weapons so as to avoid a repeat of this situation.
She stopped there and flipped to another page.
XX-XX-XX
I will have to begin looking into dimensional travel and its causes. Once again, I find myself in an unfamiliar location, my friends almost definitely inaccessible. At this time, I only have my sword and enough supplies to survive for two days at most. Currently, I am sitting in the crook of a tree on the edge of the forest. Here, I have a decent vantage point of the surrounding land: there is a—
She was not alone.
Although she had barely skimmed the surface, she closed the journal and reached for the weapon. Just in time, she stood up and ran to the open space in the middle of the platform. The tranquility of the cave was broken by these new sounds: the low growls of what she could only assume to be hostiles. Her grip on the sword tightened and she held the book to her chest as she watched two stumpy green figures wearing black masks come out from behind the pile of boxes. They took slow, deliberate steps toward her, and she automatically backed up a step before strengthening her resolve and holding her ground.
The goblin-like creatures were hunched over, walking in what she could only describe as a thief's stance—knees and elbows bent, body tilting forwards. They growled and split from each other, moving to surround her. She involuntarily took another step back, holding up her weapon and waving it at one of the beasts. "Hey... hey, stay back!"
Her voice, while it was not loud, must have reached their ears. They hesitated, maybe at seeing the weapon, but did not back away. She did not know how dangerous they were, or if they were even planning to attack, but she was not confident in her ability to swing the sword with enough power to cut anything. Her body was scathed and weak, and she did not feel like she had retained her skill at swordplay.
The creatures continued to circle her, and she started to panic. Soon, she would not be able to keep both her enemies within her range of vision; it was only by luck that they were also taking caution in approaching her. Should they have simply charged her and or walked a bit faster, she probably would have went down easily. Whether she stood her ground or fled, she felt that the green things would outmatch her.
Before she had even figured out what she wanted to do, one of the green blobs in the corner of her sight disappeared. She spun to her left, just in time to catch the thing as it was running straight at her. It jumped at her, stretching out its stubby, clawed arms, but she backpedaled and lashed out with the sword, managing to land a hit before it reached her. It screeched and fell to the ground, clutching its injury and glaring at her through yellowed eyes. Blood dripped from the cut she had made, but she was not given the chance to do anything else. She cried out and stumbled forwards, somehow managing to stay on her feet as something sharp tore into her exposed back—the other creature had gotten her.
Turning, she used momentum to power her swing. Again, she was rewarded with a howl of pain as her attack made contact with her enemy, sending it flying backwards. This time, she wasted no time and ran as fast as she could, thrusting the blade at the goblin that had just attacked her. It dodged the attack, but she ignored it and fled, hoping they would not follow.
She ran as fast as she could, shoving boxes and other things out of her way. Warm liquid was coursing down her back until it reached the rim of her pants, but there was nothing she could do about it. She did not want to risk taking the time to tend to her wound, nor did she have any medical supplies on hand, but panic reached the breaking point as her lifeforce continued to drip from the wound. There were literally no other options available; once again, she could only pray that she could run fast enough, but this time to escape the monsters that were chasing her.
When she was out of breath, she slowed her pace, hoping that the monsters were not giving chase. Violent coughing brought her to her knees, and she gasped for air in between. Her blood was falling to the ground, and her mouth tasted of iron. As much as she wanted to stand up and keep going, her body would not cooperate. There were no branching pathways to throw the creatures off, and she had not gotten far. She tried again to get up, but her legs gave out beneath her. She dropped to her hands and knees, swallowing hard as she tried vainly to push herself off the ground. Her vision started to fade and her headache returned with a vengeance.
The last thing she saw was a speck of orange, and the last thing she heard was the howl of whatever monsters had marked her for death.