Dream - Untitled Story

	It was a dark and stormy day. North winds blew over the stronghold city of Vanh blowing over the city walls and through the battlements of the city's fortress. The streets are barren and empty as are the houses; the citizens long abandoned them to take refuge in the underground citadel for the undead walk the streets. Hundreds of liches surround the besieged city on all sides, and having breached the walls, pushed the populace into the inner sanctum and the defenders into the central bastille. There they have been cut off from supplies and food from the outside world and what they do have in stores dwindles quickly. Their future is as bleak as the icy weather that threatens to entomb them if they don't receive reinforcements to break the siege.

	Luckily, that's exactly what they're getting.  Unluckily, the reinforcement consists of one soldier. A girl. She flits in and out of back alleys and bounds over rooftops through the horde of liches that patrol the streets never seen. Only the plodding of her footsteps and flapping of her cloak give any indication of an intruder in their midst. Touching down beside the towering walls of the bastille, she hurls a grapple up at the embrasure which she uses to heft herself over the fortification and over the other side before the archers could react.

	An hour later, she's sitting at a table dining on a meat and potato stew, without the meat. These are hard times after all. No soldier has yet to pay her any heed as they seem more concerned with trading rumors of recent happenings of which there aren't any. A heavy gloom blankets the grand dining hall that quickly snuffs out any bright mood and keeps the talking to dull murmurs.

	"I saw it. Right in front of my eyes, I was there." A deep voice rumbles, "My entire company sent to take out just one of them.  Our captain lead the charge and he was the first to go down. A doom bolt straight through the chest. And then the poor sod behind him, and then another and another.  Before we could close in, I saw it. Before I could find the words to shout, the magic circle was already made manifest. I was the only survivor." He spoons up some stew as everyone else at the table shakes their head or offers their condolences. All but one.

	"I saw one of them engulf a whole platoon in flames. Not a single one even got close. We retreated before he could set sights on us." Another round of whispered consolations and nonverbal acknowledgment sweeps down the table. All except for one.

	"Just one of them is strong enough to contest against an army. There's well over a hundred. They're far too powerful; going up against them is foolhardy. It's suicide!" One soldier exclaims as the others can only listen. It's an uncomfortable truth for them, but few can say anything in opposition.

	"Enough, the lot of you. We have enough of these same old stories going around three times a day. All that serves is to break morale. We have reinforcements coming any day now, so stop with the sob stories.  We know we can't beat them as we are." He concludes and the rest of them shut up and resume eating their potato and potato stew in stony silence. All except for one.

	"Cant beat them as you are because they only allow idiots into this army." A girly, yet sort of husky voice carries clear over the short lived quiet.

	"What was that?" demands one of the men as all the others sit up and look at each other searching for the culprit. "Who the hell just spoke up?" The rising tone of anger in his voice foretells of assigning the culprit to double bathroom cleaning duty and night watch for the next eternity.

	"I said," the girl says, standing up to address the cross captain and the soldiers in a louder and clearer voice than before, "if you jerk-offs weren't so incompetent, this little skirmish would have been over in an hour. Clearly they only recruit the world's dumbest to serve." At this, everyone within earshot goes quiet in shock. Some of them in abject horror imagining just what sort of punishment awaits for this outburst. "You! Big guy with the beard. If you had a whole company to throw at a lich, why would you all group up and charge at it all at once? Only thing waiting for you was a wide area spell; of course they died. And you, stick-man, those flames sounded like an incantation. You know, those things that take forever to cast because you have to beg and plead for the blessings of has-been deities or, god forbid, construct the spell yourself on the fly? All it takes is one archer to interrupt it then you can close in for the kill. How did any of you manage find your way out of bed this morning?"

	"And just who the hell are you? Give me your name so I know whose meat is going into the next stew that I'll feed to my dogs after I'm done skinning you alive." the officer demands furiously.

	"Grace Traherne. Your reinforcement, and boy do you need it." A hundred heads turn to look at her as she pulls her hood down revealing her medium length blonde hair. The officer takes a moment to absorb this revelation and arrest control over his anger before speaking again.

	"Grace, putting aside your sudden appearance and apparent lack of appreciation of protocol and respect, what makes you think you are enough to turn the tide of this war?" By now, she has the attention of the entire grand hall.

	"Oh, I don't know, the fact that I'm here? I just ran right on through that whole gaggle of liches and not a single one is aware of it. No detection spells, no familiars, no barriers, no traps! It's like a contest to see who can suck the hardest, and..." she pauses to loudly slurp the rest of the broth out of her bowl, "...I think you're winning."	Her bowl clacks on the table while she dabs at her mouth with a cloth.

	"Two THOUSAND four hundred brave men fell in the last month alone and YOU think you are what we need to win? A one girl army? Shall I hand you a sword, or is it nearing your bed time?" This gets a chuckle out of the soldiers nearest him that wouldn't miss an opportunity to earn some brownie points with a superior officer.

	"No thanks. Got my own." she beats her chest with a fist to push out a burp then continues, "And you all don't need my help to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory either. Maybe I should just sit back and watch you morons slaughter yourself pointlessly."

	The officer swells up like he's about to double up on the haranguing, but lets it all out in a exhalation through pursed lips. "Is that so? Well, don't let us stop you. In fact, I think we can have you begin single handedly winning the war immediately." He signals to his men and they get up to swiftly obey orders.

	Within the hour, Grace stands in the atrium that leads to the entrance to the dining hall. Behind her, a small assembly of onlookers crowded around the entrance ready to slam the doors shut if and when Grace's little demonstration goes south.  In front, the doors leading to the vestibule of the fort's main gate. A trade of signals, and two guards open the double doors that reveal the presence of a single lich. She strolls into the connecting hallway and stops a few paces away from Grace.

	They stare each other down. One holds a look of calm determination as she stands feet apart and hands at her side, the other of reluctant interest as she crosses her arms and regards her with an impatient scowl. The lich stands somewhat less than 5 feet tall with dark brown hair barely brushing her shoulders.  Her body seems mostly intact, untouched by the decay of eternal unlife without eternal youth.  She wears an assortment of clothing piled on in thick layers including a green coat of sorts with a red shawl and white knit scarf more than likely plundered from abandoned homes.  Grace towers a head and a half over her and grows more impatient by the second.

	The shorter girl brings up her left hand and mutters something no one but she can hear. Dark purple wisps of energy flow out from under her clothing and swirl around her body forming currents of wind and magical flux. Her body starts giving off a faint magenta aura. The onlooking soldiers flinch and recoil at the sight while some of them grab the doors ready to slam them shut in an instant.

	She takes a deep breath and looks Grace right in the eye and speaks in a surprisingly soft and high pitched voice. "Um, excuse me, miss?" She doesn't sound nor look to be older than 12.

	None of this seems to faze Grace, however and without a pause, unfolds her arms to reach for the longsword strapped to her back. Unsheathing it, she steps into a turn bringing the sword out as she spins around.

	"W-wait, ple-" The lich's plead is interrupted when Grace finishes her spin bringing the sword straight across and through her neck. She's already turned around and walking away while sheathing her sword when the lich's head hits the floor.

	"Trash." she spits dismissively into the stunned silence of the crowd. They look at her, then back to the corpse, then back to her, then back at the corpse. And that's when the crowd goes wild.

	Instantly, the witnesses break into hooting and hollering. They jump and cheer and woot and hug each other. Some reenact the one hit KO, others mimic the dismissive utterance with added flair. The celebration slowly spreads over the rest of the soldiers. Then they start talking up arms and charge out of the hall, down the connecting corridor, and out the main gate shouting battle cries. In five minutes flat, the entire hall is cleared out leaving Grace standing alone with her face in her hand.

	"Idiots. Morons. Retards. I should have just joined the liches...should have let them have it. What a waste of my time. And the food here is awful."

	The better part of a day goes by, and significantly fewer soldiers trickle in than charged out earlier in the morning. They have not, however, fallen back into their glum mood. On the contrary, their spirits are higher than ever. They march straight to where a gravely bored Grace, who was trying to ignore the scene unfolding with all her might, sits and swoop her right up.

	"What the hell?" she has just enough time to exclaim before the same commanding officer she talked to that morning speaks up.

	"Grace. I, my troops, this entire city, and the Republic are in your debt. Thanks to you, the vile force of darkness has been repelled, and we are siege broken."

	"But I didn't even do anything!"

	"Oh but you did. By vanquishing that vile fiend, you restored morale to the brave defenders of this city. You made the execution look so easy, you restored our fighting spirit. I ask that you join us in celebration as we name you our savior and protector."

	"Put me down already, I'm not your damn hero!" she demands as she's tossed up and down by several rejoicing soldiers. She grumbles irritably after they finally acquiesce.

	"And please be our guest of honor at tonight's banquet. We will spare no expense to throw a grand feast for our great hero." The officer spreads his arms and bows his head.

	"Open your god damn ears, I am not your he-did you say feast?" Her tone takes an abrupt turn. "Well I guess I could stick around then."

	"Excellent!" He turns to bark orders at his underlings as staff flood the hall with cloths and silverware.

	That night, a great feast was held in Grace's honor. She helped herself to the full array of meats, cooked vegetables, meats, fresh fruit, meats, imported seafood, and juicy, sizzling and savory meat. Using a large cauldron lid rather than a plate, she stacked samplings from every spread until she had considerable difficulty in keeping it stable.  All this while speeches were given, praises sang, and losses mourned. None of which Grace really paid attention to, preferring instead to grab another serving.

	That morning, with the weather still dark and cloudy, Grace slips out of the fortress with a full belly and a king's ransom in gold and silver compensation. She heads off in the direction of the breached city wall. Aside from the wind, the streets seem to be even quieter and more abandoned that the day before. Not even the undead roam the streets. Which is what she thought until she almost ran into one rounding the corner.

	The same lich girl from before, with head reattached, yelps in surprise when she recognizes who she just encountered. Grace reflexively reaches for her longsword and at this, the girl holds her hands out defensively.

	"Wait, stop! Please don't kill me again!" she wails as she shrinks and backs away.

	"Why are you still alive?" The tone of her voice holds the smallest of curiosity and the rest mild annoyance.

	"You can't kill me like that, and I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just wanted to warn you about what's about to happen. There's a really powerf-"

	"I know that, I'm not an idiot. I know how to kill a lich. You were IN the fortress. With over a thousand soldiers. Why are you still alive?"

	"Oh, I don't know. I think they thought I was dead."

	Grace grabs the bridge of her nose between her fingers, "This is why...ugh. This is why I'm leaving."

	"But wait, I need you to warn the people about the world endin-"

	"I don't care, not my problem. They can all die in a fire, I could care less. Go tell them yourself."

	"B-but you're the only one I can even talk to. No one else will even look at me without running or getting-drawing their sword!" Her desperation seeps into her voice as she talks faster and trips over her words. "You don't even have to stay with them-I'm not asking you to-you can just tell them what I tell you, please!"

	"I. Don't. Care. about them." she cuts off coldly and turns to leave with a humpf.

	"P-please, stop. Why wont you-why, it's j-just...I can't d-do it by mys-my..." The girls sobs stop her from completing a sentence and only grow louder the further Grace walks away. "WHY ARE YOU SO MEAN?" she shouts as she breaks down into a miserable fountain of tears and crying.

	Grace picks up the pace taking a few more steps, then a couple more, then one more, then she stops.  The girl's crying is the only thing that can be heard as even the icy wind stopped blowing once it realized that it's no longer the coldest thing around. She plants one foot forward, but after several seconds draws it back. Turning around, she retraces her steps back to the lich girl who is now wiping her face in futility against her own stream of tears.

	"Ok, ok, I'll listen. Just stop crying. I promise I'll listen to what you have to say, so just...stop crying, ok?" She pulls out a napkin and begins wiping the girl's face. It takes more than a minute to calm the girl down while Grace grabs a crate to use as a chair.

	"Th-thank you." She brings up her hand, and with the same muttered spell as when they first met, summons a swirl of purple energies around her.

	"Hey hey, stop that. What are you doing?" Grace protests.

	"Oh, sorry. I was preparing to send you a vision of what is to come."

	"How about you just tell me with words instead. I said I'd listen, that doesn't mean I trust you just yet."

	"Right, sorry." She takes a deep breath and sighs to clear out the last bit of whimpering from her voice. "Humanity is in grave danger. An evil great enough to make the Four Horsemen turn tail and flee is about to awaken. The World Ending Terror, The Nameless One, The Black Dragon of Destruction will soon break free of his seal to douse the world in flames. You have to tell everyone, so the world can gather their strongest heroes to defeat him and reseal him in his Earthly prison."

	"A dragon? I thought they were extinct."

	"No, of course not, why would you think they were extinct?"

	"Because I killed them?"

	"Huh, you killed...them?"

	"They taste delicious. The best kind of meat by far. Anyway, if he's so world ending, why doesn't he have a name? I'm not even sure what you're talking about. I think being that strong should have earned him several names the world over."

	"I...I don't know much about dragons. I was given this vision and told to spread it. I just know that his seal will soon break and that he's really dangerous."

	"When was he sealed last time?"

	"Um, a thousand years ago?"

	"Well that explains why I've never heard of him. Figures we humans would drop the ball on that important bit of info." She stretches and yawns. "So, if you have the vision, then you know where he sleeps right? Lead the way."

	"Huh? Wait, aren't you going to go tell everyone? You don't think you can just walk up to him and beat him yourself, do you?"

	"Ok, first, I never said I'd tell anyone, only that I'd listen. Second, do you really think those abject failures of human design can do anything against a 'world ending' dragon?" She forms air quotes with her fingers. "I wouldn't trust them to know which end of the sword to hold much less have my back in a fight. Not after what happened last time."

	"I guess you have a point." she concedes.

	"And third, I told you I'm the reason why dragons are extinct. They aren't really as strong as stories say, and their meat is to die for. So, we're wasting time here, lets get a move on."

	The girl considers Grace for a long time, looking back and forth between her and the stronghold. She finally sighs exasperatedly, "Ok, but he lives in the tallest mountain a long journey to the north."

	"Perfect, the snow will keep the meat fresh. I'm Grace Traherne, by the way, what's your name?"

	"Anshan. I don't have a last name anymore."

	Both girls make their way out of the city and begin their long, long journey towards glory, fame, and delectable exotic meat.