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The Emerald Amulet
Remembrance and Omens

Remembrance and Omens

Artemisia sat in her tower, a cup of tea in one hand and the amulet in the other. The amulet looked the same as it always had: deep green and gold and completely flawless, belying the magic within.

Why was it so familiar to her?

Artemisia took a sip of her tea and ran her thumb along the chain. The metal was smooth and warm to the touch.

Artemisia…

Artemisia jumped, startled. Her tea spilled on her lap, the cloth of her pants absorbing it like a sponge and pressing burning hot liquid against her skin. She hissed in pain and rubbed the burns.

Artemisia…

Artemisia turned her gaze back to the amulet with a curious expression. She set the now-empty cup down and cupped the amulet in both hands, its chain spilling like a waterfall between her fingers.

A memory pulled at the back of her mind.

Artemisia, come here.

She couldn’t. She couldn’t move, could barely breathe. The bone-deep agony of the plague filled her mind and turned her limbs to lead.

She turned her head to face the girl lying next to her. Her eyes were yellowed and sunken, her face gaunt.

Only one of us is going to survive this.

The girl reached for Artemisia and with all her strength, Artemisia did the same. Their fingers interlocked, supporting each other’s weight.

No, Artemisia breathed. No, I won’t let you do this.

Please, the girl rasped. You and I both know that neither of us stands a chance without it. At least, the girl let out a raspy cough that shook her frame. At least if I do this, one of us will survive.

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A spark of magic bloomed between them. The other girl began murmuring in a language that made Artemisia’s teeth itch, and she knew instantly what was about to happen.

Artemisia tried to pull away and break the spell, but she couldn’t. There was a flash of light so bright she had to close her eyes, and when she opened them again her body no longer felt heavy or painful. The girl was gone, but Artemisia’s hand wasn’t empty. Instead, clutched tightly in the palm of her hand was an emerald amulet. A last gift from a dying star.

“You sacrificed yourself for me,” Artemisia murmured. The amulet didn’t respond. “I’m so sorry I forgot you. If I’d known, I’d never have…”

Her breath caught in her throat. With shaking fingers, Artemisia hung the amulet around her neck. It rested on the dense fabric of her shirt, right next to her heart.

“Artemisia!”

Artemisia glanced over her shoulder as another Youngblood entered the room.

“The Bandits have stolen another cannon,” he said.

Artemisia sighed and stood. Her fingers brushed the amulet again.

“I’ll go have a word with Bonnie. Again.”

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Far from the city, a figure stood. Their cloak billowed like a flag in the heavy winds, a dark spot in the endless desert. Far ahead on the horizon, Flax glowed like a jewel, the city’s lights shining upon the clouds hanging heavy overhead.

The figure pulled down their mask, their dark eyes glittering from beneath a mesh of black hair. The city was their destination; most would be lucky to even get this close while traveling solo, but most people weren’t Ahmed al-Ahver, and most people didn’t have as important of a task as he.

The faint sound of footsteps on rocky terrain caught his attention. Ahmed spun around and found himself face-to-face with a small squad of bandits. Their faces were covered in rags, dusty goggles sticking out of the tan fabric. They gripped weapons that would do little good against Ahmed as they approached, all cocky assuredness that they would win this fight.

They would not.

“Take me to the city,” he said.

“And why should we?” the leader asked. She sounded like a little girl; he knew she was. He’d met her before.

“I have business to attend to.”

“If you wanted to get in unscathed, you’d’ve gone by sea,” the girl replied flatly. “Now either pay up or get shot.”

“You misunderstand me.” Ahmed drew his sword from its scabbard. The blade glowed with a cold, electric blue light, and the temperature in the area dropped several degrees. The bandits stilled; they knew that blade, both it and its kin, and they knew distinctly what it could do.

“You will take me to the city, or I will show you the true power of the blade you call Frostbite.”

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