To Be Young Again

"If you drink this, you will feel better."

What a lovely song.

It was harmonious yet otherwordly, playing a symphony of well-constructed tones to soothe the ears.

She wanted to respond, but hers was a sound too jarring for the human ears. Her throat was sore. It was a coarse, scratchy feeling at the base of her neck that crept up the throat and left a tickling, dusty cough. She flinched. The experience made her toes curl.

"I'll try," she barely managed to choke out, "Give it to me."

A pleasant fragrance.

It was the fresh smell of grass on a spring morning. The first rains of the seasons softly pitter in the distance with the lingering whispers of winter's chill. She brought the warm cup to her lips. The liquid inside tasted sweet, but she was unfamiliar to the flavour. Velvety, but not quite like honey. Bitter, but not as sharp as coffee.

Such a strange concoction it was, almost like an old folk remedy.

It soothed her throat instantly, sliding down to her stomach with a trail of warmth and tingly feelings.

"Do you feel better?"

"Very much so," she responded with her voice quiet, "But I cannot thank you without knowing your name."

"I am all that is, and all that will be. I am all that is known and all that is unknown. I am the stars that glow under dark skies, and the darkness that lurks beyond dawn. I am the river that flows through the land. I am the hills that pierce the sky. I am the all-consuming sky."

"That's nice and all, but it isn't a name."

The voice laughed, "I go by my many names, all of which I answer. But you and yours called me Amara. And I think that name suits me best."

"That's nice and all, but it isn't a name."

The voice laughed, "I go by my many names, all of which I answer. But you and yours called me Amara. And I think that name suits me best."

Amara...an oddly familiar name.

It sparked a memory in the whirlwind of her thoughts. It was a comforting and welcoming feeling, amidst the chaotic darkness that clung to her senses. In the absence of light, her body felt light. It leisurely drifted her into the realm of sleep. Akin to the feeling of sinking into the depths of the sea.

She was tired, was it wrong to want to sleep in this darkness? To no longer feel and merely exist in a space without thoughts or reason. If she opened her eyes, it would mean that she would have to fight against the choking pressure of the sea.

She didn't need to wake up.

"I'm exhausted, can't I just sleep?"

"Everyone deserves to rest, but now is not your time. Wake up, sweet child and feel the sand between your toes. Feel the wind as it kisses your face. Hear the waves as they crash upon the shore."

She was hesitant, initially. Her body yearned to sleep, to sink to the abyss and feel nothing no more.

But that strangers words were comforting, she reasoned, surely they wouldn't lead her astray?

Thin grains of coarse sand covered her feet, just as she grew used to the feeling, cold water gushed and pulled it away. It was a cyclical motion - waves crashing against her ankles as her toes dug into the sand. Her breathing was in time with the water, chest rising and falling just as the waves did.

The salty air filled her nostrils, and gentle wind tickled her nose. She gripped the sides of her dress lightly, the thin fabric between her fingers as her ears listened to distant birdsong.

Every crash of the waves was loud, interrupting the entropic flow of her thoughts. Disorderly memories that fought for her attention, but none of it was worth concentrating. They all carried pain and sorrow, alongside regrets that she would rather ignore instead.

She took a deep breath, sighing as she opened her eyes.

The world was no longer that dark abyss, but a grey horizon over dark waters instead.

"Every time I tried to change this place, you brought us back. I believe it has some significance to you."

She glanced to the side.

A red-haired man with a dark cane stood alongside a dark-skinned man with citrine eyes. There was a child between them, a little girl with long raven-coloured curls. She watched with intensity as they lit a lantern and pushed it towards the sky - a feeling of content in her chest.

"Blaine? Dad?" She said absentmindedly, "Where am I? What happened? Who am I?"

"You're a smart child. You know the answer to those questions well enough."

She stared at her reflection in the water.

Staring back at her was a small girl, no older than nine. Her raven-coloured curls were tied neatly into a ponytail, dark skin soft and citrine eyes bright. Suddenly, a wave of emotions crashed onto her heart as her memories organised themselves.

The discord was no more - replaced with a detailed timeline of memories and events.

A tear streamed down her face.

"I am Adalyn de Montgomery," she said out loud, "Where is this place? Who are you?"

"I believed I said to call me Amara earlier."

"As in, the Goddess? Am I dead?"

"You're not quite there yet," Amara replied quietly, "The space you occupy now is the place between life and death. A space forged from the happiest memory of your life."

Adalyn frowned, "You didn't have many options with me, did you?"

"Yours was suffering unjust, given by a being who cares not of how their actions affect others."

"I don't quite follow, Goddess."

"Mind not words spoken prior; I was getting ahead of myself. Let me take form before our conversation continues."

Suddenly, a bright flash of lightning and a crackle of thunder.

Adalyn covered her ears and closed her eyes in anticipation - only to reopen them to a slight change in her environment. A woman stood in front of her now, curvaceous figure illuminated by the now bright twilight skies.

Light brown coils draped down to her shoulders, framing her circular face and standing out against her sunkissed skin. Ruby eyes matched the bright red ruby that stood proudly on the centre of her golden circlet, a crown deserving to a woman of such beauty. She wore a thin white dress with gold trim that clung to her body, golden bracelets on her hands.

The woman gave the smaller girl a head pat, gently stroking her hair as she smiled.

"This is the form you and yours envision when praying, so it is the form I shall take for our conversation," Amara said tenderly, "You were quite the devotee during your early life, Adalyn. I'm sorry if you ever felt like your prays fell on deaf ears."

"I prayed for so long for things to change, and they never did." Adalyn's voice broke, "Everyone I cared about died or abandoned me to be alone in that damned palace. I was so lonely-"

"Yours was not the only life with tragedy, child, but that does not invalidate your misery. If anything, it proves my next point."

Adalyn wiped the corners of her eyes, "What point?"

The goddess kneeled into the water, ensuring that they were eye level as she held the smaller girl's shoulders and spoke.

"Sweet child, misery without merit and cause is no plan of mine. Yours was undeserving, and I mean that. The vile things that happened to you and others were not my doing. A snake entered my garden while I helped another out a fire. His venom poisoned the garden and ruined your lives."

Her citrine eyes went wide as she felt herself stagger backwards.

"What? What does that even mean? How am I supposed to believe that-"

Amara's expression was stern, "You are to believe because I am a being that only speaks the truth. My beloved neighbour, Origen, his garden caught fire and I had to help. In my absence, a snake entered my garden and ruined it. He hides now, but I will find him in due time."

"What am I supposed to do with that information?"

"Consider it a preface for your next lifetime," Amara cleared her throat, "I am going to send you back, Adalyn de Montgomery. With the knowledge of your adult life and the future, I know you can right the wrongs of that snake. Your one of the few who can."

It felt like a lot of information to swallow.

Adalyn had no real interest in returning to that place. The years of mistreatment, vile gossip and misfortune made it feel perverse to want such a life again. She dug her nails into her upper arm as she thought of her life. And of the people who met undeserving demises in it.

Was this snake responsible for her father's martyrdom or Blaine's disease? Were the Princes executed for no reason at all? Her best friend, Iris, was she innocent of the crimes those noblewomen accused?

Jaxen, was his death a result of the snake too?

If such things were accurate, how could one person prevent the downfall of so many?

Adalyn couldn't prevent the death of her child.

"I don't think such a thing would be possible for me," Adalyn responded after a long breath, "I can barely lift a sword, and I couldn't even defend my son. How can I right the wrongdoings of a god?"

"You give yourself too little credit," Amara replied as she cupped her cheek, "You know very well that words well placed can do more than the sharpest blade. Don't you want the chance to do something, Adalyn? To prevent thousands of unfairly suffering?"

"I'm smart enough to know that such a choice doesn't come without cost. Why won't you tell me the price of this?"

"The true cost of being young again? I trust that you will discover it," Amara smiled wistfully, "I cannot guarantee that this time won't be worst than the first. The snake is aware that I'm searching for him. He may put up a fight, but nothing I trust you cannot handle."

Adalyn sighed, "Why do I feel like I have no choice in this matter?"

The goddess laughed, gently tapping her finger against Adalyn's nose.

"Because you, sweet child, are an intelligent creature. And I have faith that you will bring forth your true destiny. Now close your eyes. Any requests?"

The small girl squeezed her eyes shut as she took a deep breath.

"Can you make me a little taller next time?"

"You were six foot seven, and you wore two-inch heels. Of course not."

Adalyn chuckled, "It was worth a shot."

Her body felt lighter as she clenched her fist - taking a deep breath as Amara's words faded in her ears.

"Your nose might feel a little ticklish-"