**Chapter 2: Shipwrecked**

The storm had ravaged the ship, and Iduna was swept overboard, losing consciousness. When she came to, she was lying on a sandy beach, her head throbbing with pain. She slowly sat up, taking stock of her surroundings. The ship was nowhere to be seen, destroyed or sunk, she assumed. The beach was littered with debris, splintered wood, and tangled ropes. Iduna struggled to her feet, her legs shaking beneath her. She stumbled forward, calling out for anyone, but her voice was hoarse and barely audible. The only response was the cry of seagulls wheeling overhead. She coughed, wincing as a sharp pain shot through her chest. Her head spun, and she stumbled, almost falling back onto the sand. As she looked around, Iduna realized she was alone, stranded on a foreign shore with no sign of rescue in sight. Panic began to set in, her heart racing with fear. But she pushed it back, drawing on her royal training and the strength she had always known she possessed. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. The beach was lined with dense foliage, and Iduna spotted a cluster of huts in the distance. Smoke drifted lazily from the thatched roofs, carrying the scent of cooking food and wood smoke. Iduna's stomach growled, reminding her that she was hungry and thirsty. With a newfound determination, Iduna set off towards the huts, her bare feet sinking into the warm sand. She stumbled, her legs weak, but she refused to give in. As she drew closer, she saw people moving about, their faces a mixture of curiosity and concern. An elderly woman, her hair gray and her face lined with age, approached Iduna, speaking in a language she didn't understand. Iduna shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. The woman smiled and took Iduna's hand, leading her towards one of the huts. Inside, the hut was warm and cozy, lit by the soft glow of candles and a crackling fire. Iduna was helped onto a pallet, and a soft blanket was wrapped around her shoulders. The elderly woman, accompanied by a young girl, tended to Iduna's wounds, cleaning and dressing her cuts and bruises. As Iduna drifted in and out of consciousness, she caught snippets of conversation. The woman, named Elara, was discussing her situation with the girl, a quiet, reserved child named Luna. Iduna gathered that they would take her to see King Westergaard, the ruler of the Southern Isles, hoping he could help her regain her memories and find a way back home. As the night wore on, Iduna's exhaustion finally caught up with her, and she fell into a deep sleep, lulled by the sound of Elara's gentle humming and the crackling of the fire. Though she was a long way from home, Iduna felt a glimmer of hope. She was alive, and she would find a way to reclaim her life, no matter what lay ahead. The next morning, Iduna woke feeling a little stronger, her body still sore but her mind clearer. Elara and Luna helped her out of the hut, and Iduna was greeted by the warm sunshine and the sound of birds singing. A group of villagers, led by Elara's husband, the village elder, were waiting for her. "Today, we take you to King Westergaard," the elder said, his face serious but kind. "He will know what to do to help you." Iduna nodded, feeling a mix of emotions: fear, uncertainty, but also a glimmer of hope. She was ready to take the next step on her journey, no matter where it might lead. With the villagers' help, Iduna set off towards the unknown, her heart filled with a sense of determination and resilience.