Amadaria awakes from the dream by force the dawn after nightmares attack, confused and disoriented she spends a week comatose with the other sylvari forced to awake early.
Caithe and the mender who help her with her early awakening (emeric) are massive forces that influence her life, along with the other sylvari who live in the kennels raising hounds once one of her escape attempts actually sticks after shes considered well enough to actually be out of the menders gardens.
Sweet and honest and almost terrifyingly determined to see people stop fighting and reach peace, Amadaria wields diplomacy like most people wield a sword - quickly, accurately and most importantly cuttingly.
Her wyld hunt is more than to just kill the Elder dragons - it is to help, to Fix. an unending burden with no defined answer that wears away on her year after year.
The Event X
Awakening fic under the cut!
On ao3: X
Waking is a burst of light. Young lungs struggling. Confusion and dizziness. The world tilts as the ground rushes to meet you.
Waking is the bright gold of the sun, a hazy smear to new eyes painting bright and gold over mountains and marsh land. Vivid pink dusting over wispy white clouds in a brilliant blue sky as day spreads across the world.
Waking is brief and confusing, cold and disorientating. Yelling reaches you. The light fades as you sleep again - drifting, untethered.
Amadaria lurches to awareness with a startled yelp. Confused, dizzy and only half coherent she tries to stumble from where she’s laying before hands grab her shoulders and ease her back.
“Woah there!” a voice she doesn't know - not that she knows many, “Careful, you shouldn't be moving yet - shouldn't even be awake! You’re going to be a stubborn one aren't you?” The voice tinges with amusement towards the end.
Her eyes trace the hands, wrists, arms, to a smiling, kindly face. Bark like skin and honest eyes, purple-red leaves swept back from his face haphazardly.
“Who-” she blurts, “wait! Wheres Caithe! Is she okay? What happened to the dragon? Are the other dreamers alright?!” she rushed, half in a panic and pushing weakly against his hold.
The other sylvari barely seemed to register that she was pushing at all - a grounding squeeze of the shoulders his only real acknowledgement from where he was knelt by her bed.
“Breathe,” he soothes, “my name is Emeric and I am a mender. You are within the menders gardens - have been for nearly a week in fact. Caithe is somewhere here in the grove, she is fine. The nightmare attack on the dream was rebuffed, the rest of the dreamers who were forced awake with you are here.”
She calms hesitantly as he talks, eyes flicking back and forth over his face in search of a lie. As the tension creeps from her back and shoulders he releases his grip on her.
“Well done,” Emeric rumbles, voice deep and clear “How much of what happened do you remember?”
Amadaria blinks up at him, eyes wide but clear for the first time, “We were in the dream, like we always are. Then… Dogs? These big beasts like Sweetpea but all black and covered in thorns, they looked like hurting and they were hurting everyone else!” her brows furrow as she stills, looking down to her hands, “then, someone like a dreamer who wasn’t, that Caithe lady, she saved us? She came to help. Told us to run and asked for any who would to help, but.”
He waits a moment, then gently prompts “But?”
“There wasn’t really anyone left - three of us maybe?” she whispers, hands going to her lap as if to grip something and stalling over empty space. “Everyone had run back - into the dream past Ventari or-” she stumbles, becoming quieter then. Her shoulders turning in and head ducking down “or they’d died already.”
Silence descends back over the small ward then, as Emeric considers her and Amadarias small form remains curled over itself, gripping the soft lichen blanket in tight fists.
Emerics touches the tips of his fingers to the back of Amadarias clenched fist, “Sapling,” he coaxes, “not everything was lost to the Nightmare. There are other dreamers who awoke with you here, remember?”
Surprised she looks up to meet his eyes then swings her head to look around the room rapidly. Sure enough a handful of other beds - five she can see, six including hers - with sleeping sylvari lay in the room. Chests rising and dropping in peaceful sleep, each one alive.
“They're okay?” she breathes, swinging her head back around to his to lock eyes, “they’re going to live?”
Emeric chuckles gently and pats her hand, “Yes sapling, they will live. Thanks in no small part to your effort I'm told?”
Amadarias glow flares bright amber across her face and over the dotted patterns in her hair, leaves poofing out like the startled fur of a mammalian cat.
“I- Well! I mean that was mostly Caithe right? She called for help and I just, just answered.” she stammered.
Emeric gives a heartier laugh then, “But answer you did! I’m sure the other dreamers will thank you for it, when they awake naturally.”
He stands then and fetches quickly a bowl of - something. Whatever it is, the dream hadn’t shown her.
“You’ll need to eat this - all of it.” he says, passing the bowl to her along with a spoon. Inside is some kind of paste made from a honey coloured syrup and pale blossoms.
“What is it?” she questions, poking the mixture with the spoon and watching it glob and stretch like honey.
“It’s blossoms and tree sap - specifically sap from our mother. It’s the same thing all sylvari grow in before we awake. All of you will have to eat it until you can reach where you should have been when you would have awakened naturally.” he unhooked a clipboard from her bed and flipped over a sheaf of paper that had been hung on her bedside noting something down while she watched, “it’s the same thing we’ve been feeding you all as you slept this past week.”
Head tilted and curious she spooned some of the mixture into her mouth and chirped a sound of delighted surprise.
“It’s good!” she enthused, beginning to eat it properly and depleting the bowls contents rapidly.
Emeric smiled over at her, clipboard still in hand as he fiddled with the pencil. “Most people with a sweet tooth tend to find the taste pleasing, yes. It seems you’re one of them. It will replace the magic you should have been getting from the dream and the mother for now.”
He sets the clipboard down with a click and takes the emptied bowl from her as her eyes start to cloud and droop, blinking rapidly to try and clear them with a muzzy noise.
An amused breath escapes the mender as he helps her sit back against the bed again,
“The rest of your examination will have to wait, sapling. Sleep safely.”
It's the last thing that reaches her as the world slips away once more.
