A Forgotten Clue
647 Words
The next morning, Amara found herself awake before the sun even peeked over the horizon.
The mysterious voice she had heard on the hill lingered in her thoughts all night long.
"Find me."
It was a call she simply couldn’t shake off.
With the parchment tucked safely inside her cloak, she stepped out of her home and headed toward the oldest part of Amandi. If that strange symbol on the parchment truly pointed to something significant, she was determined to uncover the truth.
Her goal was the Hall of Records, an ancient building brimming with centuries of maps, scrolls, and forgotten tales.
When she arrived, the hall was almost deserted.
Dust danced in the beams of sunlight streaming through the high windows, and towering shelves packed with ancient books loomed in every direction.
At the far end of the room sat Elder Neron, the kingdom's most seasoned historian.
He looked up as Amara approached.
"What brings you here so early, child?" he inquired.
Amara hesitated for a moment before revealing the parchment.
The old man's eyes widened in surprise.
"Where did you find this?"
"I can't say," Amara replied cautiously. "But do you recognize the symbol?"
Neron adjusted his spectacles and scrutinized the parchment closely.
For several moments, he remained silent.
Then, his expression turned serious.
"I have seen this before."
Amara leaned in, her curiosity piqued.
"You have?"
The old historian slowly rose from his chair and made his way toward a shelf hidden behind a curtain of dust-covered scrolls.
After a few minutes of searching, he pulled out a thick leather-bound book, its cover cracked with age.
"This book contains records older than the kingdom itself," Neron explained.
He carefully flipped through the pages until he landed on a faded illustration.
Amara gasped.
The same symbol was there on the page—a circle surrounded by three rays of light.
"What does it mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Neron leaned closer, his voice dropping to a hush.
"It is known as the Mark of the First Oracle."
Amara felt her heart race.
"The First Oracle?"
"According to legend, centuries ago, there was an oracle far more powerful than any who came after her."She stood as the kingdom's protector during a time shrouded in darkness, concealing a monumental secret until her last breath." Amara's gaze was fixed on the symbol. "So, the secret was never uncovered?" Neron replied with a shake of his head. "No. Many have sought it, but none have succeeded." As he flipped to another page, something caught Amara's eye—a faded map. There, near the kingdom's northern border, was a place she recognized: the Hill of Echoes. It was the same location depicted by the symbol on her parchment. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, the doors of the Hall of Records swung open with a crash. A group of royal guards stormed in, and their leader stepped forward. "By the king's command, all records related to the Oracle must be gathered at once." The hall fell into a hush. Neron quickly shut the book, and the guards began rifling through the shelves. One of them spotted Amara. "You there! What are you holding?" Amara's heart raced. The parchment was still tucked away in her cloak, and she knew she had to keep it hidden. Not yet. Without a second thought, she turned and bolted. The guards shouted after her, "Stop her!" Amara sprinted through the hall and burst into the streets. The city whirled around her as she weaved past merchants, carts, and surprised onlookers. One thought consumed her mind: the symbol, the Hill of Echoes, and the secret tied to the elusive Oracle. Whatever the truth was, someone in the kingdom was determined to keep it buried. And now, Amara found herself entangled in a mystery far beyond anything she had ever envisioned
- Writer
