The amulets awakening

Chapter 1

It was scorching. The kind of heat that made you question why you hadn't chosen a career in something air-conditioned—like accounting or library science. But no, here I was, half-buried in sand, desperately searching for an ancient amulet that might, if legends were true, save my people from losing everything.

"Any luck?" Mia called out, her voice rising over the persistent howl of the wind. She was a wiry woman with an uncanny ability to look composed, even while covered in dirt.

I wiped the sweat from my brow with an equally dusty sleeve. "Luck's not exactly been on our side today, has it?"

She snorted and crouched back down, brushing sand away from something that, disappointingly, turned out to be a shard of pottery.

Three days. Three days of digging under the relentless sun, sifting through centuries of rubble, only to come up with bits of broken vases and useless trinkets.

Then it happened.

At first, I thought my heat-addled brain was playing tricks on me. But no, there it was—half-buried, glinting faintly in the sunlight. The amulet.

My heart thundered as I brushed away the remaining sand. It was exquisite—an intricate design of gold and emeralds, pulsating faintly as if it had a heartbeat.

"We've got it!" I shouted, holding it aloft.

But my triumph was short-lived.

The ground beneath me groaned ominously before collapsing entirely.

I fell.

It wasn't the graceful kind of fall you see in movies where the heroine plummets in slow motion. No, this was the real deal—flailing arms, a strangled scream, and an overwhelming sense of 'Oh, this is how I die.'

When I hit the ground, the air was knocked clean out of me. I coughed and tried to move, but the amulet in my hand grew unbearably hot, its glow now blinding. My head spun, and just as I was sure I was about to suffocate, everything went black.

---

When I came to, the first thing I noticed was how soft the bed was. The second thing was the silk sheets—entirely at odds with the sharp grit of the desert sand I'd expected.

"Your Highness?"

The voice was unfamiliar and far too formal. I blinked, my vision swimming. A man with pale hair and a thin, anxious face hovered over me.

"Who—what did you just call me?" I croaked.

"Your Highness," he said again, bowing low. "You've returned to us at last."

I stared at him, thoroughly bewildered. "There's been a mistake," I said. "I'm no one's Highness."

The man exchanged a look with a bearded physician who had just entered the room. "It's the poison," the physician murmured gravely. "She's confused."

"Poison?!" I sat up too quickly, wincing as a sharp pain shot through my legs. "What are you on about?"

"You were struck by a poisoned arrow," the pale man explained. "But the amulet brought you back. It's a miracle, Your Majesty."

A poisoned arrow? An amulet that brought me back? None of this was making any sense.

"Bring me a mirror," I demanded, my heart pounding.

A servant scurried forward, holding out a polished silver mirror.

I gasped.

The face staring back wasn't mine. It was regal, beautiful, and unmistakably not the face of someone who had just spent three days digging in a desert.

This was Queen Aurora.

The queen from the ancient scrolls.

The queen whose downfall had cursed my people.

---

As I grappled with my reflection, the amulet in my hand pulsed again. Before I could drop it, a burst of light filled the room, and from it emerged a creature of fire—a phoenix.

It was enormous, its feathers glowing like molten gold.

"Queen Aurora," it said, its voice deep and resonant, "you have returned to restore the seven flames."

"Seven flames? What—no. You've got the wrong person," I stammered. "I'm not her!"

"You carry her soul," the phoenix replied, as if this explained everything.

"Right," I muttered, staring at the creature. "Because that's perfectly normal."

"The task before you is great," it continued. "You must unite the Phoenix and Dragon Kingdoms, heal the rift, and restore the balance that was lost."

"Sounds simple enough," I said faintly, though my voice betrayed me.

The phoenix tilted its head, regarding me with an expression that was almost amused. "You will understand in time."

With that, it vanished, leaving the faint scent of smoke and a glowing tattoo of a phoenix now etched onto my forearm.

I stared at the mark, my mind whirling.

If this was a dream, it was the strangest one I'd ever had. And if it wasn't, well... I was in far deeper trouble than I'd ever imagined.