1 Degree

It’s one degrees Fahrenheit, not Celsius, I never learned Celsius. I went to public school in America and in my adult life never bothered to learn. I even had to ‘Google’ how to spell Fahrenheit. I never need to spell Fahrenheit. It sounds germen but I think the Germans use Celsius, that was another thing I never bothered to learn, I had to Google it, I didn’t google it.

            Google, a verb, to search something on the search engine Google. Google helps people find answers, there is no reason for ignorance in the era of search engines. People don’t remember, I don’t remember, I don’t need to, I can Google it.

            I use Google weather on my phone and it tells me its 1 Degrees Fahrenheit. The normal dull ache in my bones worsens to a searing pain as I struggle to get up out of bed. Not struggle like “I need my coffee in the morning or I’m a monster hahaha” I mean struggle like physically difficult to stand. I pour my neatly sorted pile of pills into the cup of my hand, I slam my hand against my mouth as the pills shoot into the back of my throat. I need them to be in my blood stream now but they won’t. I type next to a frozen window, cold medicine pumping into my bloodstream, traveling through my body like tree roots down into the earth. I have a pill for everything, It costs thousands of dollars to keep me alive and the tax payers pay it. Most wouldn’t, I think most would be happy to let sick people die as long as they did so outside their field of view.

I sway back and forth in my chair, the gentle movement of the muscles seems add some relief to my tortured spine.  Inside my body it is 100 degrees Fahrenheit and outside it is only 1.

            People with harder jobs than mine are going to work at earlier times than I do. I tell myself that they don’t have the pain I have, I hope its true because it makes me feel less shitty about succumbing to pain.

            There is a phrase in my head that I tell myself when it comes to work. “People can tell you they are dependable, but it takes actions to prove it”. This phrase is a double edged sword, it reminds me to prove my value but also is daunting when I am unable. I don’t remember where this phrase came from, it feels like something my dad said when I first started working, but it could just as easily been something my brother said or something I made up entirely based on my own experiences. This sentence has followed me longer than I can remember and pushed me even when I didn’t know it was there.

            One of my first jobs I pushed myself too hard, I gave the company all of my energy to prove I could be part of a team and in the end they fired me as soon as I was too sick to work. I worked myself to sickness and they threw me away. Years later I am starting a job and have hope again for the first time and yet I can’t bring myself to go. Pain and anxiety surge through me, fighting against my medicine, the winter winds blow through and creatures die from exposure.

            I never learned how to behave as an adult, I just watched my dad and made the rest of as I went. He never had illnesses like I do, but I try to be dependable anyway, with my actions. You can’t google how to be a good human or how to see the balance between working hard and over working. They don’t teach these things in school, they teach advanced math that no one remembers and history that I only remember because some of it was interesting.

Some days life is hard and its 1 degree outside.

Winter for Conspirators Part 2

            Delana ruled over Jillian’s heart in the way that Jillian ruled over the battlefield. She fought with her soft green eyes and red hair, her summer dresses and talent for making Jill blush.  Delana was always the first one to turn any situation into a joke and loved to laugh. The only time Jillian ever saw Delana cry was on their last day together when Delana, frightened by the power of the Vanguard, made Jill choose between her or the Vanguard armor.

            The Vanguard now fought for her life in the fortress of the deceased General Durm. Every soldier in the meeting room rushed the Ebon knight while a servant boy ran to alert the rest of the soldiers in the keep. News of General Durm’s death spread like fire and soon the entire fortress had transformed into a hive of angry bees.

            Blood painted the walls with each swing of the Vanguard’s axe. Jillian wielded her two-handed battle-axe with both hands. She would normally flail her large weapon around with one hand but her rash decision making led to a very dire situation and she would need her full effort to escape alive.

            Axes, spears and swords charged into the small room, stabbing, thrusting and slashing at the demon knight. Jillian had incredible reflexes, speed and strength but was so surrounded that even she couldn’t avoid taking damage. Blood began to trickle from the gaps in her armor, spotting the floor and mixing with the pool of soldier blood forming at her feet.

            She rushed forward with her axe, he eyes burning red and her black armor lit up with fiery runes. Her helmet was still on the table from the meeting minutes before. Jillian reached for the helmet as she pushed her way through the room and the helmet jumped into her outstretched hand. She slammed her helmet over her head causing more runes to scrawl across the armor. The Vanguard began emitting a blazing heat as well and the soldiers felt like they were fighting next to a roaring bonfire.

            Through the enchantments of the armor, the wearer is always stronger when wearing the complete set. Now that Jillian had her helmet she was even more of an unnatural force. The Vanguard swung her axe back and forth as she pushed forward. Each axe swing was like a farmer cutting down wheat for the harvest, each harvest a bloody soldier.

            Jillian’s blood stopped dripping from the armor and instead was being absorbed by the black enchanted metal. Her blood was feeding the power of the Vanguard armor and the more wounded she became, the stronger she grew. The armor fed on the blood of its host and of the victims as their bodies fell. The armor wasn’t keeping Jillian alive in any way and she could die from blood loss if she wasn’t careful. When she reached her peak frenzy, she would stop feeling pain and only rage would exist in her mind.

            Corpses tumbled down the stairs into the main room of the keep as the Vanguard tore through the ranks of Durm Fortress. The Vanguard was like a nightmare made real, a demon pulled from the earth to smite the human race and still the soldiers fought on. The soldiers didn’t know of General Durm’s treachery, they didn’t know that the Vanguard was indeed hired by the King and so they thought they were fighting a great evil. They fought and died for their King and land and Jillian didn’t have the time or mental capacity to explain otherwise.

            “You are a monster!” Shouted a terrified soldier as he slashed wildly with his sword. Most of the slices clanked uselessly against the Vanguard’s powerful armor but the sword strikes that hit between the gaps made Jillian bleed her life force down into the greedy maw of the dark armor.

“You’re a monster” Cried another voice. This wasn’t a soldier, it was a voice inside Jillian’s head. Delana sat crumpled over on the grass as she sobbed. “You’re a monster” she cried. That was the first time Jillian went into a frenzy.

Jillian blacked out and when she came to her senses she had massacred a group of militiamen.

Several of the militia had been too forceful while trying to flirt with Delana. Jillian arrived on the scene to see her love struggling to leave as the men pulled on Delana’s arm and laughed. Jillian blacked out and in her frenzy carved them all up and her armor drank their blood. When Jillian heard Delana call her a monster she was struck with a pain that she had not felt before or since.

Jillian had been hurt in a thousand different ways since that day and hearing Delana’s words was still the worst thing she experienced.

            The sadness of that moment tore through her mind like daggers and the rage in Jillian swelled. The loneliness, the heartache and the loss would all be rolled into a ball of anger and forced onto the soldiers of Durm’s fortress who thought they were fighting for their King.

            The Vanguard made it out of the keep and into the courtyard when her blood loss began to slow her movements. Archers rained arrows down from the guard towers set up along the walls. “Close the gates!” Shouted the captain of the guards. The soldiers surrounded Jillian as the arrows continued to fall. The Vanguard lashed out with slow powerful axe swings, each swing sent out a burst of flames that would burn up arrows and scorch exposed skin. Magical flames would burst out from the runes on the armor with each step the Vanguard took. The armor wasn’t sentient but the magic in the armor was enhanced by blood and at that moment the armor was drenched in it.

            Jillian’s vision started to blur as she rushed forward. Jillian stopped moving but the armor continued expelling bursts of flames from everywhere and her axe burned with molten heat. The Vanguard was drenched in blood, covered in wounds, with arrows sticking out of her. The soldiers began to feel that they won and began to cheer.

Then the Vanguard shook and launched forward in a dead sprint. The dark knight moved like a bolt of lighting, ran straight into the gate and collided into the massive door with enough force to cause a shockwave. A loud boom and a shockwave was sent up into the archer towers toppling the soldiers from their perch. The Gate cracked open just enough and the Vanguard continued its mad dash to escape. A giant hole was torn through the metal gate, the edges of the hole were burnt from heat, bent back and curled up as if the metal was as flexible as clay.

Durm fortress was left in ruin, trails of bodies and smearing of blood ran through the halls. The Vanguard was nowhere to be seen. That was the historic day in the Kingdom when the record number of soldiers, knights, guards and servants all quit their post at the same time.

            The treachery against the King never came to pass and without General Durm the conspirators disbanded. The King publicly denounced the actions of the Vanguard but was secretly grateful for disposing of General Durm and those loyal to him.

            As for the Vanguard, she never reported in to the King, she never spoke to his advisor and no one in that Kingdom reported seeing a fierce black knight.

While the legend of the Vanguard would grow in that land for years to come, the fate of the actual Jillian Cole would remain a mystery.

Winter for Conspiritors

            The first snow of winter had finally settled over the land and the Vanguard knew she was running short on time. It had been several months since she had slain Captain Humford and his cowardly nobles. She could kill a room of people without breaking a sweat but rooting out treachery and hidden plots was not her strong point. She requested permission from the King to behead every noble in court but was quickly denied. The treasonous wolves hid among the flock of sheep and the Vanguard lacked the subtly required to find a wolf without killing a flock of sheep.

            The Vanguard’s black metal boots crunched down on the fallen snow as she approached a large fortress in the northern part of the kingdom. Jillian Cole, the Vanguard, heard only whispers of treason during her travels and the only solid lead she had was the word of a cowering noble. The coward accused General Durm of being the leader of the traitors, but Jillian didn’t think it was wise to just burst in and start lobbing off heads. So the Vanguard approached the fortress of General Durm with her helmet off. She hoped that the general would see Jillian as a person and maybe let his guard down. She only needed him to slip up once and then she could put her helmet back on and do what she felt the most comfortable doing, removing heads from bodies.

            Jillian marched up to the gate of Durm Fortress. She had a confident stride, with her helmet tucked under her arm and her double-sided axe, strapped to her back. she had an assortment of large deadly weapons and while she wished she could bring them all, she knew it would be difficult to be diplomatic while carrying an armory on her back.

            As the Vanguard approached the large gate a man shouted from atop the stone wall “State your name and business here!” the guard’s voice was stern and Jillian could tell he was on edge. “I am an ambassador of the King, seeking an audience with General Durm” Jillian called back. The Vanguard’s mannerisms matched someone who had been in the military for years. In most situations her tone made her sound rigid or unfriendly but she had the perfect tone for speaking with members of the military.

            Without another word from the guards the gates opened. Jillian marched forward towards the keep. Her face was confident and cold but her mind was racing. Even at this late stage of her plan, she wasn’t sure what she would say to General Durm. As her body marched forward, her mind went back to her early years. Jillian Cole’s father would have known what to do in a situation like this. Jillian’s father, Jeriah Cole, was a silver-tongued devil who could get out of any situation with words. Jillian was more like her mother and grandfather, both great warriors who had slain hundreds of soldiers in their day.

            Jillian shook the thoughts from her head. “I don’t need to worry, this General Durm is a military man, he is most likely gruff and old. And since he is a traitor he is also probably arrogant. I am sure he will slip up, then I can slay him and go home to my books and wine” Jillian thought. Her eyes flashed with determination as she hastened her step.

            The door to the keep opened just as the Vanguard approached. To her surprise a smiling older man emerged from the entrance.
“I heard the Vanguard was approaching my fortress and my men panicked!” The man chuckled as he exclaimed. This was General Durm, a slender man in his fifties. His hair was black with gray on the back and sides. He had a trimmed beard, brown eyes and a slender face. His welcoming smile belied the true deadliness of his character.

“I honestly expected fire and brimstone, not a beautiful woman” Durm said as he gestured to the door. Jillian curled her mouth into a sneer but then relaxed her face. “It is good to meet you General Durm. I was raised to properly introduce ones self before entering their home. I am Jillian Cole, Ambassador for the king. I am also known as the Vanguard, but this is not Vanguard business, this is the King’s business” Jillian replied stiffly.

General Durm’s smile grew wider “Yes of course! So rude of me. I am General Theodore Durm. Would you please join me in the keep so we can discuss business?” he asked as he gestured again to the door. Jillian nodded and proceeded forward.  

            Inside the keep was a large room made of stone with plaster walls, each wall painted with colorful paintings. The middle wall in the far back had a picture of General Durm sticking a sword into a knight of the rival kingdom. Jillian had killed more than her share of people but didn’t find it necessary to paint a picture about it. The main room of the keep was clean and well lit with torches and a few window slits in the back. “I have won so many battles for the King that he allowed me to construct my own fortress. I have added many of my own details to this structure. The beautiful artwork, a few trap doors and an armory grand enough to make even the King’s armorer jealous!” the general boasted. Jillian nodded her head and winced at Durm’s bragging. Jillian was led through the main hall, up a set of stairs and into a smaller room. This looked to be a meeting room, well lit, with sturdy tables and chairs. Armed and armored guards followed closely behind Jillian as she was taken through the keep. 

            Jillian began to recall memories of when she was a little girl, all of the bragging and bluster was reminiscent of her father’s friends. Nobles and military leaders would boast about their accomplishments while Jillian played soldier with her wooden swords. A man named Arthur Delmont was one such friend and bragged almost as much as General Durm. It was at this early age that Jillian knew she didn’t want to be a noble lady. 

            Jeriah tried to teach little Jillian everything he knew about politics but the lessons fell on deaf ears. It wasn’t until she was the age of fifteen that she started to pay attention to the lessons the nobles taught. It was at this point when Arthur Delmont and his noble friends turned on Jillian’s father. One day their friendly smiles vanished and they convinced the Lord of the land that Jeriah Cole was guilty of treason. The noble men and women then tried to seize all they could from Jeriah. Jillian remembered that lesson and distrusted the rich and powerful ever since.

            General Durm finally sat down at his large meeting table. Jillian’s mind was brought back to the present. She smiled and nodded at whatever inane thing the general was talking about and he returned with a pleased smile.

            Jillian pulled the wooden chair out, her metal boots clanked against the stone floor. She sat down with a heavy thud “As lovely as your keep is and as much as I loved our conversation, I must discuss our business” Jillian said, still trying to be diplomatic. Durm gestured his hand for her to continue. “The King is concerned about the killing of Captain Humford and several noble men. He wants to make sure his MOST trusted allies are safe and accounted for” Jillian said with fake concern in her voice. General Durm’s expression brightened further. “I will admit, you had me worried. When the Vanguard approaches your keep, the mind assumes the worst. It is so encouraging to hear that both the King and the legendary Vanguard are concerned about me and the leaders of this land” General Durm said as he ran his fingers through his chin beard.

            Jillian flinched as she felt an old memory scratching at the back of her mind. A half forgotten thought, buried in time trying to claw its way from the depths. She felt dread and sick but didn’t know why. “I am very secure and comfortable as you can see. Now if I may ask, why was the Vanguard sent with this message and not an ordinary envoy?” Durm asked as he continued to fidget with his facial hair. Jillian didn’t answer, her face went pale as her mind raced. “W-what?” Jillian said as she stared at Durm with an unusual intensity. General Durm repeated his question as his fidgeting grew worse. 

“Everyone has a tell. You can never trust ‘Uncle’ Delmont when he fidgets with his beard!” Laughed Jeriah Cole. Nine-year-old Jillian laughed along with her father as Delmont sighed.
  Jillian snapped to her senses as she glared across the table at General Durm. “Uncle Delmont?” Jillian said, her words poured from her mouth like bile. General Durm froze and his face went pale. “Who is that, my dear?” Durm asked nervously.

            The pieces all fit together in her mind. Years of age, stress and battle marked Delmont’s face, he changed his name, he was promoted through the military ranks and now after all this time, he was sitting across from Jillian. The most twisted part was that Arthur Delmont was like a brother to Jeriah and the closest thing to family Jillian had at that point. He was also the traitorous snake who killed her father and was now a prime suspect in trying to overthrow the King.

            Jillian stopped thinking, she stopped reasoning, she was no longer an envoy to the King or a diplomat trying her best, she was The Vanguard. Jillian’s eyes burned fiery red and in the blink of an eyes had jumped up from her chair, pulled her axe from the straps on her back was now moving toward the snake known as General Durm.

With one hand Jillian swung her axe. With that axe she sliced through any chance at subtly just as she sliced through General Durm's neck.
The head of general Durm had a shocked expression, the same shocked expression as every guard and soldier in the room.

  Unquenchable blood thirst and rage flowed through the Vanguard at that moment. She had just murdered a military general inside of his own fortress, a fortress full of battle tested soldiers and would now need every ounce of strength to make it out alive.

The Vanguard part 2 of 2

   Jill was so angry from her conversation that morning she was hardly watching where she was going. Her steps were interrupted as she tried to put on her last armored boot. She hopped on one foot as she slid the armor over her leather boot. Just as she was fully armored up she fell forward into a group of travelers. These ‘travelers’ looked more liked bandits or thugs. Jill had the best luck.

            “Watch it girlie” Said a large brutish man. “Easy, Trom” Said a hooded man in the group. Trom, the large man, smiled “No, we have been walking for days and out of all the space in these mountains this clumsy girl falls right on us” Trom replies. “She has some nice armor. I think it would look better on me” said a girl brandishing two daggers. “Listen we have work to do and robbing one lone soldier isn’t part of our plan” said the hooded man. “Well majority rules, Locke. Who else thinks we should make this clumsy bitch pay for crashing into me?” asked Trom as he raised his hand. The dagger girl raised her hand, Lock, the cloaked man, just glared from under his hood and the fourth member of the party a silent man with a spear also raised his hand.

            “Just run, get out of here” Said Locke. Jill was angry and now had someone to take her aggression out on. “No way, this fat tub called me a bitch” Jill replied. “You three will be lucky to leave here with your spines intact” 

            The spearman lunged forward at Jillian. He wore a blue bandana, blue baggy pants, sandals, no shirt and was very tan. His spear looked like it was for hunting and not something a soldier would carry. Jill swatted the spear away as it flew straight at her. The force of her gauntlet smacking the spear away knocked the hunting spear out of the man’s hands. The assassin girl spun and slashed with her daggers. Jill reacted quickly, so quickly that she either had amazing reflexes or she could slow down time. Jill ducked to dodge the blades and then gave an uppercut punch to the assassin’s jaw. Bones cracked and teeth shattered under the force of Jill’s armored fist. While Jill was busy delivering an uppercut, Trom swung his hammer right into Jill's left side. She was knocked sideways from the force of the hammer strike.

            The assassin clutched her broken jaw. She couldn’t talk to reply but went after Jill while she was down. Locke moved in quickly and pulled a cutlass out from under his cloak. He moved in front of the assassin and blocked her daggers before she could strike out with them. “Don’t do this” Locke warned. The assassin’s face squished up into a horrible glare and then she tried to stab Lock in the stomach. A gunshot rang out and the assassin fell over dead. Blood poured from her mouth and a large wound in her stomach. Gun smoke drifted out from beneath Locke’s cloak.

            Trom and the spearman turned to Locke in disbelief. “You killed her!” the normally silence spearman said then charged at Locke.

            This distraction gave Jill enough time to unholster her Axe. Jill’s axe was a double blades war axe. it was thinner and lighter than most battle axes that barbarians carried and soldiers rarely used axes. This was special made to compliment Jill’s agility and strength. To make up for the lack of weight, the axe’s blades were always very sharp and could cut through armor and bone.

            Jill held the axe handle with one hand and let the blade hit the ground. She glared at Trom with fierce intensity.
Trom ran forward holding his giant hammer in the air, ready to smash it down on Jill.
Jill swung her large two handed axe with one hand and slashed Trom’s chest. The large man yelled and lost balance. He stumbled and fell, giving Jill enough time and an opening to attack.

            Red markings began to glow on Jill’s black armor. The armor was enchanted with runes and when activated made Jill increasingly more powerful. The red runes lit up in the center and then spread out to her arms and legs. Jill walked toward Trom with her axe resting on her shoulder. Red runes burned brightly in her armor and her eyes looked more red than brown. “Ready to die bandit?” Jill asked. Her voice was different, more menacing and every breath was visible. With every breath Jill looked like she was exhaling steam or smoke. Trom saw this transformation and for the first time in a long time he felt genuine fear. Trom saw Jill's glowing red eyes and her smoky breath and worried that soon she would be breathing fire. At that moment she appeared to be some manner of dragon or demon.

“Hey, lady, look I’m sorry. Ok? We’re even. I give up” Trom said as he dropped his hammer. “Remember what I said? You will be lucky if you leave here with your spine intact and you don’t look very lucky to me” Jill hissed.

            Jill charged forward Trom picked up his hammer and blocked Jill’s on coming axe attack but the axe split the head off of Trom’s hammer.
Jill grabbed Trom by the throat with her black metal gauntlet and began squeezing. Trom choked and dropped what was left of his hammer. “Stop! That’s enough!” Locke said from the background.

           Locke had been fighting with the spearman and was trying not to kill any more people. Once Lock let his guard down the spearman charged passed him and tried to stab his spear into Jill’s back. Jill spun around with uncanny speed and swung her axe. In one move she sidestepped the spear, turned around and swung her axe. the spear stabbed into Trom instead of Jill and as the spearman accidentally stabbed his boss Jill’s axe sliced through the air and chopped the spearman’s head clean off of his shoulders. the spearman's head bounced when it hit the ground and then rolled down the mountain path. The spearman stiffly clung to his spear but the rest of his body sagged over, bringing Trom’s body toppling over as well.

            Locke walked up to Jill. “I should have been warning them to run instead of warning you” he said grimly. He put down the hood of his dark gray cloak, revealing a young man with short spikey light brown hair, a bandanna around his head keeping his hair in place, tanned skin and blue eyes. Locke would normally have a big bright smile on his face but today he was wearing a grim stare.
“It had to be done. They had no respect for the life of others” Jill said coldly.

            “Neither do you!” Locke replied angry as he gestured at all of the bloodshed. “I have respect for innocent lives. You’re friends wouldn’t have spared me, so why should I spare them?” Jill said as she turned quickly to face Locke. Locke flinched as he expected her to attack him.
“they weren’t my friends and you spare people because you are better then they are, not equal” Locke replied. “Nice ideal, but I have been in too many wars to agree with you” Jill said as she turned away and continued down the mountain path. “Thanks for the help” Jill shouted back without turning. Locke nodded “Yeah, I thought I was helping” He said almost too quietly for Jill to hear. “You didn’t really need any help” Locke muttered.

            Jill continued down the path, leaving the dead bodies and the young Locke behind her. She found it odd for a bandit to stick up for a traveler and even stranger that he had a gun. Guns were new technology and almost no one had them. This had Jill feeling curious, but not curious enough to go back and bother talking with Locke again. Jill was still on a journey and couldn’t afford any more interruptions or set backs.

The first snowflakes of winter could be seen drifting over the kingdom and Jillian had little time to waste.