Shrouded in shadow and mist, a cloaked figure staggered through the Valley of Baca. A mystery even to herself, her identity was masked with blood. Her memory as dull as the throbbing behind her eyes.
The girl tripped over her weary feet. Not having the strength to break the fall, she landed in the mud and mire. Her aching cheek pressed to the earth and her eyes drifted closed.
She could give up now.
She could give up and no one would blame her. For she was alone. Entirely alone.
Or so she thought.
An other-worldly voice came from above. “Noa, what are you doing down there?”
She flinched. No one had spoken her true name for as long as she could remember.
Noa squinted against the blood and tears stinging her eyes and saw a warrior woman with striking silver hair. “Who are you?”
“Your godmother, of course.” The warrior woman reached down to her. Marks graced her wrist and coiled all the way up to her elbow and beyond. But instead of gnarled scars and jagged edges, the warrior woman’s wounds were healed and glistened with the purest gold.
Noa hadn’t seen anything like it before, but she had heard stories of the Deep Magic, of the legends of old. This enchantment was what one once called: Redeemed.

“Please help me…”
Noa’s whisper was as soft as the wind through the harrowing valley. And she wondered if the warrior woman knew just how difficult it was for her to even utter those words. Noa wasn’t accustomed to asking for help from anyone.
“I cannot,” was her reply, but she swiftly added, “but I know Someone who can. Come. I will take you to Him.”
Taking hold of the warrior woman’s strong grasp, Noa staggered to her feet. A platinum gaze met hers, full of compassion and grace.
“My name is Ameera. He sent me to find you.”
Noa blinked away tears. “Who? Who sent you?”
A joyous laugh danced in Ameera’s eyes. “The King, of course.”
“But why?”
“Do you remember nothing of who you are?”
“Until now I had forgotten my own name,” Noa confessed. “I fear I have not been myself for some time.” She took a heavy step forward, only to stumble yet again.
Ameera caught her, her countenance softening. “You’re not fit to travel on foot.” Through her teeth, Ameera whistled three notes, and her small song carried across the valley. Within moments, rocks scattered down the face of the cliffs and the silhouette of a mighty elk appeared on the precipice.
Ameera smiled as the elk cantered toward them, his nostrils flaring. He tossed his head wildly, his hooves beating the muddy ground. Noa froze, her weary heart keeping her from fleeing.
“Don’t be afraid,” Ameera said softly.
The elk stopped short of them and reared up on his hind legs as if he were a stallion. Upon his landing, he struck the ground with his hooves, then bowed low.
Ameera rested her palm on his head. “My old friend, thank you.”

^{To be continued…}