Eleven and a half months later

Amneris was somewhere between a dream and awake. How she knew that she had no idea. It just felt that way.

They world around her was black. Not the blackness she’d seen at the dawn of Creation, but a different type. The blackness when one was waiting for sleep. Or waiting to wake up.

She moved her fingers. It hurt but she could do it. Gods, her body ached. That was new. It felt all wrong. This form was hers but, at the same time, it wasn’t. She tried to move her legs. They wouldn’t move! No, wait, yes they did. She let out a breath of relief. Her arms moved too.

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Amneris tilted her head to the side. She was laying on something soft. Something else, also soft, was covering her. A pillow and blanket. She was in bed. Was it her bed? If only she could open her eyes. She needed to open her eyes.

Open them.

Open them.

Open them.

Amneris opened her eyes. The light burned. She wanted the close her eyes again but wouldn’t let herself. She was afraid, afraid of going back to sleep, of re-entering that strange dream slowly fading from her mind. Amneris felt her power flicker to life as she forced herself to sit upright, only to fall back down again. Everything ached. She groaned.

She must’ve made enough noise for someone to hear. The door to the room—her room—opened. Colt let himself in. He sat in a chair beside her bed, carefully talking her hand. She squeezed in response.

Colt raised her hand and kissed it. “You are home now.”

Amneris nodded, giving him a small smile. “Yeah,” she whispered, voice weak. “I’m home.”