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Obscure Awakenings	By : Denfall Category: +A through F > Amnesia: The Dark Descent Views: 968 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Amnesia:The Dark Descent, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Please rate and review!

Chapter List
- 1-Obscure Awakenings
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
Thunder; the crackling sound rang in her delicate ears and coalesced with the rain that fell in trickles against the stone floor around her lithe form through the cracks of the broken ceiling above her. The cold air swept across her face brushing a few stray curls to tickle her cheeks. Her red hair was splayed around her head, spilled from the confines of its usual bun so that it appeared as liquid beneath her skull.
The breeze drew the rain toward her pale features, the droplets of water tracing her chin as she stirred. Her brows furrowed, eyes forcing themselves open as her vision blurred in front of her. Her fingers flexed, feeling the cobblestone beneath her stabilize from her disorientation. Her other arm was trapped under her stomach, fingers curling into the fabric of the gown she wore as she lay there quietly trying to regain her senses. Her head was pounding, the pain making the ringing in her ears worse while the flash of lightning only halted her clearing sight.
With a determined demeanor, her body twisted as she attempted to lift herself up, placing her arms under her torso to lift her onto her knees. Her clothing was heavy with the many layers of embroidered material tacked beneath the bodice of her dress. A few blinks of her eyes unclouded her vision, leaving her to stare at the dark green rug that covered the length of the hall. Her head was fogged, her perception clouded as she rose onto her trembling legs.
The corridor was dimly light by the flicker of lightning that accompanied the drum of thunder outside the shattered walls, brightening her view momentarily of the rubble that surrounded her. Candles gave off a dreary glow against the dark stone, holding on to what little life their flames had left as they hung across the wall in careful arrangements.
Her eyes shut once more; hands lifting to gently touch her eyelids with her fingertips as the ache in her head slowly subsided, leaving her able to finally consider her own well being. She felt no other discomfort except the lack of knowledge of what had happened and why she was in such a place that seemed unrecognizable. After a moment of recollection, she turned her gaze across the walls in examination of her current whereabouts.
The walls were barren, save for the candelabras that offered little illumination. They were heavy stone with two carved archways on either side. The floor was covered in that viridian carpet, though with an unhampered view she could see the careful stitching of gold and silver around its edges that traveled into the center in the creation what appeared to be a dragon unlike any she'd seen before.
Slowly, she turned her body to glimpse behind her, catching view of the broken wall at her back; half of the stones were missing as if they had become loose and fallen with age. The rain cascaded down and puddled on the floor, dribbling through a small opening near the edge bottom of the rampart. Spinning further, she could see the crumbled doorway which she assumed she had proceeded through before fainting.
Fainting? Had she truly fainted? What had initially caused her to travel to such a place? The old walls, which she presumed were of a castle or keep, offered no help and though she felt the waking of fear in a chill down her spine, there was no other choice than to travel further into the keep. Her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth, chewed lightly in anxiety before she took that first step forward.
The click of her own heels startled her at first, her nerves strained as the sound echoed through the foyer. She paused, waiting until silence filled her ears once more like a dull drone. A soft breath escaped her parted lips, her hands relaxing from the fists she hadn't even been aware she had tightened her fingers in to.
A creaking noise brought her attention to the wall at her left, the sound behind it a soft scuffling as if someone turned to run. She leaned against the wall, looking for a small hole to peek through, though the stones were sealed tight with no hope of letting her peer into the neighboring room. Without thought, she called out.
Her voice was loud in her ears, traveling through the vestibule with booming reverberation before it seemed to escape through the passageway. There was no response and suddenly she was glad of it. Whoever roamed the halls beside her was neither distinguishably good nor bad.
Slowly, she lifted from the stones and took another careful step forward, hands moving to lift her skirts so that her legs could move more freely without the difficulty of kicking the heavy pinafore. The two archways ahead of her were promising, though the one to the right proved useless as it was covered with the remnants of the previous hallway that had stood. The debris had rolled out of the portal, leaving loose stones across the floor at her feet.
Given her only choice of moving forward, she strode through the left archway into yet another passageway that groaned deeply with the passing wind. The thunder beyond the wall was dulled in sound, leaving only the swift beat of her heart to hammer in her ears. The doors of the hallway were slightly ajar, giving her brief glances of the three rooms that were tucked to the side. A study that held no more than a desk and chair, a storage room with shelves that held candle sticks, parchment, and various writing instruments along with a suit of armor tucked into the corner.
The third door was across from the descent of stairs that held an upward draft toward her, bringing with it the scent of cinnamon. And though she had meant to move toward the steps, her body seemed to turn on its own accord to face the wooden postern. Her jaw tightened, breath caught in her throat as her hand rose to touch her fingertips against the cold surface. Leaning forward pushed the door open with her weight.
The urge to run toward the stairs was strong, yet she could not force herself to turn in view of the exit. The room that was unveiled before her was another study, though decorated with a bookshelf against each askew wall. In the center sat a small desk painted in red and gold with a matching chair settled behind it. Her eyes were drawn toward the papers on the surface; her feet carrying her forward without her realization until she was close enough to read the words written.
Ashelynne Eike Nuar Din'Veran Del'Orn III
A name I have not fully used in quite some time. It is a title more than something to be recognized by. A thing people address me with to not let me forget the terrors my father plagued upon me and my family. If not for him, mother would have never-
I find myself in need of something to do in order to keep my mind at ease. My father is not the hero they believe him, though they think me to merely be a jealous child, angry and destitute of a female role model. I need no woman to tell me how I am to act and live out my life. I will make it myself and there is little to nothing anyone can teach me.
I must not forget myself. I cannot let myself be drawn into his darkened ways. He raises a son when he has a daughter, one who would know her place among the people and would rule with justice and fairness. He does not understand what he has placed upon the other's head.
I will speak with him. He will understand. He must.
Her hand pulled back, brought to her chest as she felt her pulse rise in her throat. The name felt familiar. Not because she knew it…but because it was her own name. She had written this letter, left it here but for what purpose? Perhaps she had forgotten it on this desk, though she could not remember writing it. Then it struck her.
She couldn't remember anything.
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Obscure Awakenings