Chapter 2

“Our ancestors founded the Hunters’ Contest as a symbol of unity throughout our Kingdom, to show that despite our differences, we must work together…”

Amara paced in her room, her voice trailing off as she examined the speech again in attempts to remember the next few words. She then looked at herself in the nearby mirror and ran her hand through her hair a few times. A sigh escaped her and she sat down in a nearby chair. I just want to get this over with, she thought; it was three more days until she made her speech.

Then a feeling crept over her, as if she were being watched. Amara slowly turned to look out the window, glancing at the Kingdom below; in the middle of the marketplace was a man with a black hood over most of his face, and sure enough, he seemed to be looking directly at Amara’s window.

She flinched at his gaze, pulling back from the window, and as she did she could see the hooded man draw the hood further over his face, turn, and then rapidly walk away.

“…and now, citizens of Agraud’s Kingdom, without further ado, the Hunters’ Contest shall begin!”

The crowd below roared with approval, and Amara stepped aside, her speech finally concluded. Relief washed over her; she wouldn’t have to do that for at least another year.

“You did great,” said Tyra, who was standing nearby.

“Thanks,” Amara smiled, and she could now hear Darren talking; he must’ve been getting the hunters out to the forest. “Do you think Kara will win?”

Tyra sighed. “To tell the truth, I think your sister rushed into this. The other hunters are a lot more experienced…”

Amara realized Tyra was right, but she still wanted Kara to win, despite the unlikeliness. “So…I guess now we wait for them to return,” she said. Spectators weren’t allowed in the forest, so all the citizens could do was anticipate the results.

Just then Amara’s mother came up to her, her father right nearby. A smile split across the queen’s face and she pulled Amara into a hug excitedly. “You did great!” she exclaimed. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Oh, well thank you!” Amara said with a slight laugh as her mother pulled back.

“You did very well,” said her father in agreement, giving a smile that formed wrinkles under his eyes. “It was not so bad, was it?”

“It’s over at any rate,” Amara giggled. “I’m just glad it is.”

“Well, you may be doing it next time,” her mother grinned. “The Kingdom loved you!”

“Of course they did,” scoffed her father. “I am going to go oversee the hunt. Farewell,” he nodded, turning to leave.

Amara’s mother turned to her with another brilliant smile. “I suppose you and I will head back to the palace then. Come on.”

         
Later, Amara sat in the gardens once more, among the chrysanthemums, talking to them. “So I’m worried Kara isn’t going to win, and I really want her to, but the other hunters are more experienced so it’s not very likely—”

“Princess Amara?” spoke up a voice. Amara turned to see a man standing there – a messenger, Ronald Hill. He immediately bowed upon her acknowledgement.
“What is it?” Amara asked. “Is everything okay? Wha—”
“Your sister’s shooting glove snapped,” Ronald said hurriedly, straightening himself. “You know her best, where might she keep spares?”
Amara immediately perked up. “Yes, I know where I can get them.”
“Well, Princess, if you would tell me the location and I can retrieve—”
“Don’t worry, I can get it,” insisted Amara, standing up and running back towards the palace.
She could hear Ronald call after her, but she ignored him; not only did she know where to get a spare glove, but this was also an excuse to go into the forest – which she had always wanted to explore on her own.

They called it the “Dark Forest” to keep people from going too far in; from what Amara had heard, there were several forests like this one throughout Acirewiel, and all of them were equally dangerous.
But luckily, the outskirts of the Dark Forest were completely safe. When he forest began to get darker that was a sign you were too far in – and Amara was positive she wouldn’t go that far. Kara was smart enough not to, so she’d be on the outskirts like everyone else should be.
Amara made her way past the gates (there weren’t any guards posted, so Amara assumed they were dealing with the contest, much to her relief), and headed down the dirt path that lead right to the forest, which was right by the wall that surrounded the Kingdom.
She had never been in the Dark Forest alone. The idea excited her. Her overprotective father would never let her leave the Kingdom on her own, but she’d be quick. She was only delivering Kara her glove, after all, which was currently being held in Amara’s left hand.
Then she was darting through the treeline, and she slowed down as she came into the forest. Worries began running through her head: what if the guards are here? What if Ronald tells my father? But she attempted to push them away; there wasn’t anything wrong with what she was doing.
Except for going out without guards, said a voice of doubt, which your father will not appreciate.
Despite all this, Amara kept going through the forest. It was quite silent – she suspected everyone was further in – so there was no clue as to where her sister was. Amara took in the scenery: the sunlight sparkled through the leaves of the trees, which had turned orange with the new season. She hated to see flowers dying during this time, but when Amara was younger her mother explained the circle of life, how the leaves would turn dull colors and the plants would give out due to the cold of the oncoming winter. It was for the best, her mother had said. But Amara still wasn’t sure why it was.
She then turned to some flowers nearby, who looked lively among the dead-looking trees. “Hi,” said Amara, and the flowers, all clumped together looked up upon hearing her voice. Amara lowered herself down in front of them, and was mindful to keep the dress form hitting the ground – she didn’t want dirt on it. “My sister, Kara recently came through here but I’m looking for her. Do you know where she went?”
Not too long after the question left her mouth, the flowers all turned to look into the distance – east, Amara realized. She beamed at them. “Thank you!” she said, before standing back up and heading in that direction.
Amara continued walking, and she could hear talking every now and then – must’ve been other hunters – but she avoided them in case they’d get suspicious about her being alone. Adrenaline was rushing through her and she couldn’t help but grin to herself. It was like she was on a quest, and she couldn’t be caught – which was kind of exciting, really.
But as she walked, she then heard a voice that was closer than the others she had heard previously – and it sounded like the person was singing. “…he was a shepherd but he could fight off lions…a warrior dressed in robes…”
It was a man’s voice, but it wasn’t very deep. Amara recognized the song he was singing: “The Mighty Shepherd”, which she had first heard at a young age. The song was about a lowly, humble shepherd who was a lot stronger and a lot more of a fighter than everyone thought. She quite liked the tale, and her mother sang it often; but not much anymore.
She then looked for the origin of the voice; and sure enough, nearby was someone in a dark cloak and a hood pulled over their face. Amara hid behind a tree, and she noticed a nearby branch lower down as if to fully hide her – like it knew what her intentions were.
He was walking along by himself, and he crouched down to pick berries off of a bush. “…he took on the beasts of the land, with nothing but his shepherd’s crane…oh, the mighty shepherd…”
She peeked her head around the tree in attempts to get a good look at him. He raised his head slightly, and Amara’s heart hammered against her chest as she realized who he was.
It’s the man I saw out my window!  she thought to herself in realization. What was he doing out here? Who was he? She decided to keep spying, and possibly find these things out herself.
The man stood up and glanced at her, then did a double-take. Amara realized she had been spotted, and found herself just staring back at him. He grew wide-eyed before saying, “oh, hold—wait, wait!”
Amara was about to ask what was wrong when he produced a red gem from the pocket of his cloak and then threw it at her. Amara didn’t even have time to react before it landed on her hip and latched on, and then the man said something in another language: “edestus maak!”

Confusion filled Amara right before a wave of pain came over, and suddenly Amara couldn’t move or yell out. Black dots lined her vision and she fell over, before being completely knocked out.