the smell of burning flesh and the sound of screams filled the air as she lay bleeding out in a pit dug out for a bonfire she was preparing for a party she was throwing for her sisters return the next day. she couldn’t help but think back on her life up until then. her father, the first time she fell down, her first job, and even her first time with a weapon. all of these were fond memories, memories that she knew would come with her when she went to Aetherius and was judged, she could only hope that she was judged worthy of having a place in the emperors army.
after what felt like years, passed out, only to awaken hours later with her wounds bandaged and a medical servitor standing over her, tending to her still recovering body, its singular organic eye pearly white and devoid of moisture. she was alive, one of the lucky few to have survived.
as the medical servitor left, she couldn’t bring herself to weep, she felt numb, nothing at all. but that was all going to come to an end soon when a sister of battle came in, informing her of the death count and who died, most of her village, gone, all that remained of her home was a single lazpistol, her fathers lazpistol, the one she had stolen and hid under the floor boards after her mother had died as a repentia.
all of her feelings came rushing back to her, rage, sadness, hatred, and most of all, pure anger at those who did this, she would have her revenge, she would personally make a hole in the one who brought the attack to her now broken home, even if it killed her in the process.
Amara Harthstone was dead, her soul having moved on, her body however, was not yet ready to crumble to dust, not until it had avenged its home.