The Clockwork Princess

Soup and Centaurs

An oppressive heat and acrid aroma assaulted Amara's senses as her consciousness returned in disoriented waves. As her groggy eyes fluttered open, she found herself suspended in a grotesquely oversized pot with hot, gloopy liquid seeping through her clothes.

Sweat streamed down her face as she took in her surroundings. Floating alongside her were vegetables, roots, and even the lifeless bodies of other small animals. Panic surged within her, and her eyes widened as she flapped around amongst it all, fighting to keep her frenzied head above the water.

Realisation hit her like a cold shower — she was the main ingredient in an enormous stew. The trolls intended to cook her alive, and time was ever so quickly ticking away.

As her initial panic began to subside with a few deep breaths, Amara scanned her surroundings for a way out. The pot was suspended over a colossal fire, and the ginormous trolls continued their preparations, completely oblivious to her regaining consciousness.

Now aware of her dire circumstances as the pot continued to creep further towards the boil, Amara knew she had to act fast and quiet.

Carefully, she edged towards the side of the pot, swimming through the foul liquid as she prayed her movements wouldn't attract any unwanted attention.

The trolls' backs were turned, and their booming laughter echoed through the clearing as they carelessly tossed other ingredients behind them and into the pot. When a small, dead calf splashed into the centre of the pot, Amara was slammed into the hot metal at her side from the resulting Tsunami.

As she prepared to make her escape, a sudden movement caught Amara's eye — two troll children, still towering over her, were playing nearby.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she realised the precariousness of her situation and she began to slowly climb the edge of the slippery pot. She held her breath, hoping against hope that she would go unnoticed. Fate, however, had other plans.

A troll child's eyes widened as they locked onto Amara's terrified form, and a high-pitched squeal erupted from the young troll's mouth. Its parent's laughter ceased and was replaced with a collective roar as they began to thud over towards the pot.

Without a moment to spare, Amara lept from the pot and dashed across the clearing with every ounce of agility she could muster. Her body was soaked through, her shoulder and hands scalded from the heat of the iron pot and her ankle sprained from the impact when she reconnected with the ground.

The trolls, now fully aware of her escape, bellowed in rage and their colossal footsteps shook the ground as they pursued their nimble and wounded prey.

Amara desperately sprinted through the tangled underbrush with a painful limp, her surroundings a blur as she evaded the enraged trolls. The forest seemed to close in around her, but she continued to push through, frantically stumbling along in a dire attempt to get away.

Just as the trolls closed in, a series of thunderous crashes and distant roars echoed through the forest and the trolls abruptly changed direction, their attention diverted by something else crashing through the undergrowth towards their young.

Seizing the opportunity, Amara veered off and concealed herself within the shadows as the trolls pursued the new threat.

She caught her breath in a hidden alcove, her ears still ringing from the distant screams and that ominous roar that accompanied the demise of what she assumed to be the family of trolls. Her heart was still racing and her hands trembling as she pushed herself back to her feet, cautiously edging forward.

Whatever had killed the trolls had to have been much larger and more vicious than they were. She did not have the faintest clue what the horrifying creature could be, and she knew well enough that she did not want to wait around to find out.