Gentle waves rolled along the sandy shoreline. Large clouds, heavy with rain, drifted unhurriedly through the sky above. Opposite the shore stretched a vast ocean as far as the eye could see. And from this great body of water drifted the pieces of a ship. Splintered and shattered, these were all that remained of a vessel that had met its end at sea. And among these pieces that were caught in the tide and carried ashore was the distinct figure of a lone girl. Spared an untimely end in a watery grave, she had clung tightly to the fractured wooden boards of the ship until they had delivered her to solid ground. It was only now, as she lay in the mud and sand that she could finally close her eyes and let go.

When Amana awoke, she was in a haze. For a moment she knew nothing, her mind devoid of all coherency. The cold touch of the salty water had taken from her all that she knew of herself and the world. As though she had been born again, and all that she knew of her first life had slipped away. She blinked, her eyes watching the grey clouds above. Have I died? It was the voice of her own reason ringing within her head that dispelled the doubt of Amana's mind. No. Not yet. Like the waves that had sank the ship she had been on, the memories of all that she knew came crashing down onto her, and once again she was whole.

She blinked again. Her head was aflame, and her body weary and unresponsive. Amana gritted her teeth and leaned forward, willing herself to sit up. She let out an agonizing groan but succeeded in lifting herself off of her back. Using the strength of her shaky arms as supports to steady herself, she sat in the sand and took in all that she could. She was on the coast of place utterly unfamiliar to her, and across the great sea before her she saw no distant land, nor the sails of any ships. To her left the coastline stretched as far as she could see, but to her right eventually it gave way to sharp rocks and high cliffs that were far off. Peaking over her shoulder, Amana could see that not far behind her the shore ended in a thick forest of tall trees. In no direction were there any signs of other people. She wiped away the coarse sand that clung to her cheek and looked down at the remains of the ship she had been aboard.

Suddenly, the thought dawned on her that some of the ship's crew may have survived, and that they might be nearby. The fear of their ire spurred Amana into action. Though she could see no others along the coast, she felt exposed and in danger. The trees will give me cover from them if they were to come looking. Mustering her strength, she pulled herself up to her feet and stumbled toward to the forest. Her once beautiful dress was now worn and tattered, and the soaking wet fabric clung tightly to her skin. One of her sleeves and most of her skirt had been torn away, but she cared not for her decency at this moment. All that mattered to her was surviving, and to that end she willed herself off of the sand and into the dirt and grass.

One Step at a time, Amana. One step at a time. Amana could scarcely focus, her only thoughts were to keep moving forward and to hope that she would find safety and rescue. Her bare feet began to ache as the hard roots and uneven rocks poked and prodded them. Her slippers had been lost to the sea as she had struggled to survive the swirling waters around her while the terrible storm raged above her. She had thought with certainty that the waves would swallow her, dragging her to the depths that none return from. But somehow, she had survived. The terrible vortex she had been caught within had instead whisked her away to some unknown land and dropped her on its shore.

Where am I? How far has that storm carried me? There were many places in Kyderia that Amana did not know, but the strangeness of this land did not feel like her home. Fear crept into her thoughts, and she wondered if this was the island her captors had come from. The men from the sea, from the Island of Korvosal. Amana had been in the garden of the marble city reading letters from her admirers when the raiders had attacked. While her father's armies had fought them at the gates of the city, a small group of the Korvosal raiders had scaled the walls of the city and made their way into the royal garden. Their arrival had been unexpected, and the raiders had brutally cut down Amana's handmaidens and guards. Even the brave knight Sir Gideon had been slain, his head taken by the raiders as a trophy. When Amana closed her eyes, she could still see the blood and bodies around her. She had only been spared the same terrible fate as the others because the raiders had recognized her as the daughter of the king. With rough hands they had bound the princess and carried her off to one of their ships, unconcerned with her screams and cries for help.

I should have died twice now. What cruel fate do the stars carry for me? Amana stepped around a small hole in the ground and stopped to rest beside a fallen tree. She seated herself on the log, and ran her fingers through her damp, tangled hair. She let out a heavy sigh as weariness began to overtake her. She was unsure of how long she had been on the Korvosal ship, but it had been a miserable time. They had fed her little, and the brutes had taken great pleasure in tormenting her. The had grabbed and hit her, spit on her and shouted harsh words in a tongue that she did not understand. Amana believed they would have done much worst to her were it not for the man whom she believed to be the captain of the ship. He let them have their fun, but his cold gaze seemed to warn them of a terrible danger should they become too rough with the princess. Amana had been grateful for that, if nothing else. She had been asleep, bound to the ship's mast like some sort of trophy on display when the sound of distant thunder had awoken her. It had not taken long for the storm to engulf the small ship, and the waves began their unyielding assault. It was only then that captain had untied Amana in what quickly became the final moments of the voyage. The Korvosal ship was shattered by the waves and all onboard were thrown into the sea.

If this is the Island of Korvosal, then I am not out of danger yet. I cannot reveal myself until I know for certain that I have encountered someone I can trust. Amana nodded to herself. She knew the direness of her situation, and that soon her tiredness would be her undoing. She stood again to her feet, determined to continue on. Amana had never been much for life outside of the shine of royalty. She had grown up in a keep surrounded by servants who had provided for every need the princess had ever had. Her parents had spoiled her since childhood, and Amana's older brother, Bernald, had always been around to clean up any messes she might leave behind her. For a moment Amana was lost in an old memory, recalling the time she had drank too much wine and tried to seduce the knight Tyvor. I would have succeeded too, had Tyvor not been so frightened of my father finding out. Once Bernald learned of my scheme, he kicked down the door to Tyvor's chamber and carried me all the way back to my own. He probably saved both Tyvor and myself from father's wrath. if only he were here now, to carry me back home and away from this nightmare. Amana's smile quickly faded as she stepped lightly through the thick forest around her. The sun would be setting soon, and she feared spending the night out in the open. She had no desire to discover what kind of strange and dangerous creatures roamed these lands at night, which left her with only a single option. She resolved that she would walk until she found shelter or collapsed from exhaustion.

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By the time the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Amana's feet were bruised and bloody. In the darkness she struggled to see and found herself stumbling over unsteady ground that she could not avoid. Her pace slowed and she slipped and fell down a small ravine. As she lie there in the dirt and grass, tears welled in her eyes. She began sobbing, despair ebbing away at what little strength she had left. Believing she could walk no further, the princess cried and wailed until she was a mess of snot and tears. I'm going to die here. No one will ever find me. I'm going to die. In-between her bouts of self-pity and wallowing, Amana heard the sound of rustling leaves nearby. She went silent immediately, all her focus on the sound she had heard. A sound came again. Footsteps. rustling leaves and a twig snapping underfoot. Something was moving, and it was close. Amana held her breath as her eyes tried to locate the source of the disturbance. In the darkness, she saw it.

At first Amana thought it was a wolf. The creature sniffed the ground in front of it with its snout. It was as large as a wolf, but it's face was longer, it's mouth unnaturally long. The creature had four legs, but the legs were long too, and when the creature raised up it was nearly as tall as a stag. Amana could see the blood-red eyes as they glowed in the moonlight. The beast let out a bone chilling howl that sounded eerily human, before bringing its gaze back down to Amana. It took a step forward. Amana took a shaky breath and threw herself to her feet. She turned and ran, faster than she had ever ran in her life. Her heart beat wildly and she could hear the beast as it galloped behind her, slowly closing in on her. She dashed through the woods over fallen trees and under low hanging branches. Her feet were numb, and a sharp pain stung her midsection, but Amana pushed on. If that monster catches me, it'll rip me apart. I'll die for sure. She could hear the beast right on her heels, could feel its breath on her neck. In front of her was a clearing of open ground bathed in moonlight. Amana was drawn towards it, as if she naively believed it would save her.

Amana put all her strength into those last few steps and threw herself forward into the opening. Her stride was interrupted as a painful jaw close around her left ankle and pulled her to the firm ground. The beast has me. It's over. Amana let out an agonizing cry as she came to a sudden stop, anchored by the thing that had caught her. To her surprise, the beast tumbled over her and rolled away, seemingly also confused by her sudden stop. Looking towards her leg, she saw that her foot had been ensnared in some sort of trap, and that the jaw which had snapped around her ankle was iron. Rolling over, Amana tried to desperately to free herself. She dug her hands in-between the metal teeth of the snare and used all her strength in an attempt to open the jaw. If was of little use however, as the trap would scarcely budge despite all her effort. She saw in the corner of her eye that the beast had regained its composure, and that it now drew near for the kill. Amana let out a shrill scream, and hurled a nearby rock at the creature. The beast was not dissuaded, and calmly approached its prey.

"Please, no!" Amana begged. "Someone help me!" The creature's face was now so close that she could reach out and touch it. Its long fangs glistened in the night, and it gave a low growl. Just as the beast was about to leap forward and tear out her throat, Amana heard the twang of a bowstring. A second later and the beast recoiled in pain as if it had been struck by an unseen fist. The creature yelped and then howled in anger as it struggled to stay on its feet. As it turned its head, the moonlight shown on its neck where it had been pierced by an arrow. A moment later the twanging sound came again, and another arrow hit the beast, this time through its chest. It fell backwards and rolled around violently. It was then that Amana saw the figure across the clearing, a man cloaked in black with bow in hand. He slowly moved forward and spread his arms in front of him as if beckoning the monster towards him. The creature seemed to grow enraged at this gesture, and it tore through the dirt and grass in an eagerness to reach the man. The man swiftly turned and disappeared into the darkness, pursued by the horrible monster.

Amana could hear it howling and running as it chased the man further into the distance. For a time, she sat motionless, listening for any hint of what was happening. Eventually, a calm silence settled around her, and her thoughts grew more coherent. I'm still in danger. That monster may yet return to finish me. I must escape now, while I have the chance. She struggled again with the iron trap around her ankle until her fingers and hands were cut and bloody but could not remove it. Failing that, she tried to dig the trap out of the ground, in the hope that it might have some hidden release buried away. Her digging grew so frantic that she failed to notice that she was being watched by a lone figure.

"Sorry to say, but that isn't the kind of trap you can dig your way out of, little girl." The words came from a gruff voice in the dark, with a hint of amusement behind them. She heard a footstep and turned her head to see the man cloaked in black standing over her. His head was hooded, and the lower part of his face obscured by a mask, only his copper eyes could be seen as they examined the princess. "Well, you're definitely prettier than most of the things that end up in my traps," he admitted with a chuckle.

Amana felt a chill run through her. He's a monster, same as the one before. Just in a different shape. "Please, you have to have to help me. I'm lost and hurt and need help. Please, I-"

"Save your breath, I've heard it all before," the man muttered as he shook his head. "Thought you could outrun the Scourge, eh? You come from a village near here? I cannot help what ails you, girl." The man crouched down beside her, a look of pity in his eyes. "The best I can give you is mercy. A quick death."

"No, wait! I'm not from a village, I'm a... I..." Amana's voice trailed off. I cannot trust this man with the truth, can I? But if I say nothing, he will leave me to die, or worst. In desperation, Amana made her decision. "I'm a princess. My father is King Hestor, of the kingdom of Kyderia. I was on a ship that sank, and when I awoke, I was here, in these lands. That is the truth."

The man tilted his head in confusion, before giving a laugh. "A princess? From a place called Kyderia? The scourge must have already claimed your mind. I have crossed many lands in my travels, but never have I heard of a kingdom of Kyderia." The man crouched down and lowered his mask and hood. His face was narrow and jaw sharp. Though an old scar ran down his cheek, Amana found him surprisingly fair to look at. She noticed that his long, black hair was tied loosely behind his head.

"I speak truthfully. I am royalty, and if you help me my father will surely reward you. I know not of this affliction you speak of," Amana pleaded, clinging desperately to the hope that the man before her was more decent than he seemed.

The man scratched at the whiskers on his chin, and leaned forward until his face was incredibly near to Amana's. He gave a sniff, which sent the princess scurrying back in confusion. "Well, I don't smell the sickness on you," he admitted. "And now that I see you up close, those tatters you wear do seem a bit fancier than the garb of the locals. Perhaps you are what you say you are, girl." The man's expression tensed for an instant, but quickly returned to his disinterested demeanor. "If you knew what these lands were, you would have thrown yourself back in the sea."

"So, you'll help me? Free me from this trap?" Amana asked nervously, ignoring his ominous words.

The man gave a sigh and looked down at the trap. "Aye, I suppose I could get that thing off you," he said simply. His gaze returned to Amana's face, a wolfish grin across his lips. "But only if you give me a kiss. I've never kissed a princess before."