The Clockwork Princess

The Princess and The Tower

'Amara. Amara, wake up.'

The adventurer stirred against the frosty ground, her body all but frosting over as he lay bleeding into the snow.

'Amara. You must rise, I command it. Your journey is not yet complete. You are the only one who can save me.'

A vision came to her dreams. It was not Sylvaine or any other forest guardian. Nor was it Ves or another of his kind for before her stood a figure cloaked in shimmering light, radiant and otherworldly.

It was the princess, but not as Amara had ever seen her before. She was no automaton but a human woman, a vision of beauty beyond compare with her flowing locks of golden hair and eyes that sparkled just like the gems that stood in their clockwork place.

Amara's heart thumped in her chest as she took in the glow surrounding the princess' delicate form, the soft light bathing her features like a warm summer's day. She was not merely beautiful; she was ethereal.

"You cannot die here," she said, her eyes soft as she crouched down to her hero's side. "You must rise and find my heart. Only you can save it. Only you can protect it." Her voice was clear like crystal as she brushed her fingers tenderly against Amara's cheek, "Only then will we all be freed of this curse."

When she arose, she extended her hand out to the young warrior, her pale fingers curling gently around Amara's icy ones.

Amara gazed down at the hand in shock, staring wide eyed into the gentle expression on the Princess' face. Why did she look at Amara as if she cared for her? Why did she seem so familiar? How was she there when Amara knew she could only be back in her Clockwork body at the palace?

Then, just like that, she was gone. The dream melted away as the sharp bite of ice sank back into her body, and she awoke.

"I...I will try my best, your highness." Amara spoke to herself, hoping that somehow the princess could feel the truth in her words no matter where she was, and forced her stiff joints to move as she struggled to get back to her feet.

Collecting the sword of light from where it lay beside her in the snow, she began to move, trembling with every step she took, the cold seeping into her bones making every muscle in her body ache. But she was determined not to give in to it.

If she gave in now, it would mean everything she had done was for nothing. There would be no saving Eldoria. No saving the princess. No saving herself. It was then that her parent's last words rang aloud in her head as though they were still being spoken — Survive, Amara, you must survive. She couldn't fail them; she couldn't die, not now. Not after everything she had already faced.

The blizzard had begun to settle and as she pushed further forwards, the pain began to lessen somewhat, the numbness beginning to fade as the frost that clung stubbornly to her clothes melted away.

She began to regain some of her strength and although she could hardly keep upright, it was better than nothing.

Her muscles were burning, her head throbbing as blood oozed from her wounds, but she ignored it in favour of pushing onwards. Every step seemed to take an age as she forced herself to ignore the cold creeping into her body. If she faltered now, it would all be over.

"Shadowmere?" she cried out. She knew she needed to find her horse if she wanted any chance of survival. In his saddlebags were bandages and salves, ones gifted to her by the centaurs before she left.

But there was no sign of the horse. Not even his hoofprints, which had long since been covered by the still-falling snow.

She stopped when her foot crunched onto something solid beneath the snow and, when she moved her foot aside, she saw the broken blade of her father's sword. Her heart felt heavy as she lifted it from the frozen ground. Her grip tightened around the handle instinctively as she looked it over, realising what the significance of having it within reach was to her.