Drifting to spring

The rain pelts the ground around me as the memories flood back from an older age. Green grass and vibrant trees stretched out in all directions, the sky was light gray and rain poured from the heavens. The cold had been banished and the spring finally arrived. The sights and smells of spring triggered memories of ages passed, pictures, sights and smells from experiences rushed through my head like a flood.

I followed the valley of green to a great rushing river, which opened into a waterfall. Water cascaded down the rocks like laundry being pushed down a flight of stairs. People said water was graceful but sometime it looked like stampeding house cats trying to get out of their own way.

I felt invigorated by the clean, crisp air and the sound of rushing water. It was as if every Spring I had experienced was linked together through my memories. Like punching a hole through the corner of a thousand photographs and running a string through the hole. Each picture would be separated but strung together by such a small thread.

The weather had always been tied to my memories, the smell of damp earth and the feel of chilly air on my skin always brought me back to spring. The visual marvel of green trees and colorful flowers stand out in my mind like a picture held in time.

The rain beat down like a steady drum and I keep returning to that place, I return to the Spring. My eyes drift to the window in my bedroom to see snow and cold and my mind takes me to back to the Spring.

Friendly Joe

Joe was typing at his desk. Joe was the “nice guy” at work, very polite and friendly. On that Tuesday Joe was in a bad mood. He said “Good Morning” when he was supposed to, he smiled at all the people he needed to smile at and felt like it was a normal day. He didn’t realize the anger boiling under the surface. The stresses of life were kept in a bottle and the bottle stayed in Joe’s guts, then Joe would pour alcohol over the bottle of emotion and stress. The booze would help for a time but when he sobered the bottle of stress would be waiting right there for him.

Joe typed away as his mind raced. His thoughts were on analysis and bank numbers and his fingers would put the thoughts into writing. while Joe worked, Carl the co-worker tapped his pen. The pen tapped against Joe’s desk as Carl would let out long breathy sighs. “Whatcha working on?” Carl asked sounding bored. Joe didn’t know why Carl hadn’t been fired yet and amused himself by thinking that Carl was probably blowing their boss.

“Work” Joe said flatly, hoping Carl got the message. “Work, which is something YOU should be doing” Joe thought but didn’t say. Joe’s fingers typed away and the tapping of the pen continued. “Cool cool” Carl said with another bored sigh. “So I got this chick last weekend, did you hear about this?” Carl asked as his voice picked up, eager to discuss any mild excitement that he could.

Joe didn’t respond. A small finger of annoyance tapped at the base of Joe’s skull just like the pen tapping against his desk. The annoyance grew and fed off the stress of Joe’s life. A dark and insidious annoyance that was the child of anger. “So then she’s bent over and” Carl goes on with his story which was very inappropriate for the work place. Joe continues to type but his thoughts are no longer about work. Carl’s inane blather unhinged Joe’s train of thought from its tracks and now Joe was thinking about the bills that were due, the fight he had with his wife and the salesman that wouldn’t stop calling the house.

Carl’s story continued and Joe’s mind drifted further from work. His mind giving him new things to be upset by, maybe Joe’s wife is sleeping with the salesman and that why he keeps calling because he is hoping she will pick up. Joe shakes his head in attempt to physically shake the bad thoughts from his mind. Carl continued his story and didn’t notice Joe shake his head and certainly didn’t notice Joe’s tense posture and arching shoulders.

Joe had to stop typing and clutched his hand around his face. The tapping of the pen continued and rhythmically burrowed its way into Joe’s mind as Carl went into graphic detail about his night with a female.

Joe was flustered and tried to regain control of his mind but the thoughts would not let up.

The bills were due, too many bills, maybe you can’t pay them, maybe the salesmen wants your money and wife, maybe your kids are going to grow up and be criminals. Joe you are failing, Joe you are losing control. Carl is an idiot. Wouldn’t it be better if Carl died? FUCK CARL. Why do I have to deal with this?! Why does this idiot Carl seem so carefree? Do you get to be carefree if you don’t have a brain? What if I get fired, what if Joe is not worth anything?WHATIFICANTMAKEITWHATIFWHATIFWHATIF

            Joe stood up from his desk in a jolt. Carl stopped his story and gave an annoyed look at Joe for interrupting him. “What IS up, my buddy?” Carl asked. Joe turned to Carl with intense eyes. “Carl, I am only going to tell you once, so listen up” Joe said in a strained quiet tone. “SHUT THE FUCK UP! NO woman wants to sleep with you and if your disgusting stories were true then that probably means you got them drunk or drugged. You don’t do any work around here, your stories make everyone uncomfortable you harass the women here, no one can understand why you still have a job and I am PRETTY sure that you are sucking off the director just to keep whatever shitty paycheck you get while doing no work!” Joe screamed. His shouts were so loud the entire office could hear it. Everyone in the office had a horrified expression as they just saw a lion eat someone in front of them.

            Joe started to cool down but before Carl or anyone could say even one word Joe ramped back up again. “AND STOP TAPPING YOUR PEN ON MY DESK!” Joe shouted, grabbed Carl’s pen and snapped it in half.

Joe was the nice guy at work, very polite and very friendly.

Rage against the calm

The rain and storm of the day swirled and howled against the order and comfort built by the humans below. Lights flickered in homes as the wind shook electricity poles. Windows rattled, rain battered against rooves and umbrellas were tossed around by the storm like cats tossed around a ball of tinfoil.

Greggory Smitt was preparing coffee when there was a knock on the door. Rain and mist shrouded the figure standing hunched outside the house. The figure wore a long coat and a brimmed hat. The collar of the coat was turned up to keep the rain off the neck. Greg opened to the door to reveal his next door neighbor, Henry Gearhart. Henry looked up with a warm smile. “Hellooo” He said as he leaned his “Os”.

            Everyone looked like ominous and suspicious figures while standing in the rain and the friendly neighbor was no exception. “Glad you could make it!” Greg exclaimed. Henry’s smile broadened as he stepped into the house. The home was warm and inviting. The front door led into the living room, then from the living room was a set of stairs to the second floor and in the back was the kitchen. The living room was decorated in earth tones with an emerald green recliner tucked away in the back by the television.

            Henry took off his brown loafers and proceeded into the living room. The smell of fresh coffee lingered in the air. The calm atmosphere of the home pushed back the raging storm outside.

            As Greggory led Henry through the living room, Henry noticed an old fashioned pistol hung on the wall. “Where did you get that?” Henry marveled. “It was my great grand father’s gun. Kept in the family and it still works too!” Greg said with pride. “Been getting much trouble on this part of town?” Henry joked. “No, nothing like that” Greg laughed.

            The two men walked into the kitchen, on the table was two cups of black coffee, a small bowl of sugar, a small carton box of creamer and spread across the table were papers. Henry stared at the papers as he removed his coat and hung it over the back of a kitchen chair. “Really glad you could help me with these taxes. Running my own business this last year has been a nightmare of paperwork” Greg said sheepishly. He didn’t like troubling his friends and neighbors for help but Henry was already thinking about the task at hand. “Oh no problem” Henry said with a smile and eyes that looked lost in thought. Henry snapped back to the present and sat down.

            As the two men sat down a knock was heard at the door. “I’ll get it” Greg said with a cheerful tone then walked briskly to the door. “I’ll just get to work” said Henry as he sorted through the papers. As Greg walked to the front door, Henry spotted the top of someone’s head move past the kitchen window. Henry stood up and walked to the window above the sink and looked down and around. The person was gone.

            Greg opened the door to reveal an ominous figure standing in the rain. “Hello, sir, can I trouble you for a minute” Asked the man in the coat. The man turned to Greg with a smile but the smile looked painted on. Cheerfulness was not this stranger’s default expression, which Greg discovered by noticing the deep frown lines on the man’s face. Greg was unnerved by the man but tried to remain polite. “I really am in the middle of something, sorry” Greg said hastily. The stranger stuck his foot against the door to keep it from closing. “It will only be a minute” said the man.

            As Greg spoke to the man at the front door, Henry heard the back door begin to open. Neither Greg or Henry were in very good shape but between the two of them, Henry had the natural strength and could have been an imposing figure if he wasn’t so lazy.

            Henry kept close to the wall and moved in on the door. The back door opened then a man in a dark coat entered the home. Henry hid behind the kitchen wall. A tree branch was pushed by the force of the wind outside and struck the side of the house. All four men were startled.

            The front door man jumped into the house, tackling Greg and slamming the door shut behind him. The man from the back door charged in. Henry panicked and saw an open door that appeared to be a closet. Henry charged from his hiding space and tackled the intruder into the closet. The intruder flew backward through the open door, which was the open door to the basement. The man was tackled then thrown down the stairs of the cellar, hitting each stair on his way down and landing on the concrete in a crumpled mess.

            Henry stood shocked for a minute but then ran to help Greg. Greg and the front door man were struggling and punching each other until Henry charged in and tackled the man. Greg scrambled to his feet and moved back into the living room while he watched Henry fight with the intruder. Everything was happening so fast that Greg didn’t have the mind to jump back in and help.

            As the two fought, the intruder wrestled in his coat for a weapon. The intruder pulled a knife from his coat and stabbed it down at Henry. The burly neighbor moved his head but the blade sliced his ear. The burglar tried again to stab Henry again. All of the grunting and struggling ended in a loud “Bang”.

            The intruder, who was on top of Henry, dropped his knife and clutched his side. Henry felt blood trickle onto his stomach. Greg stood there with a stern yet concerned face holding his great grandfather’s old pistol. “I told you it still worked”

The storm passed and the rain slowed to a trickle. The rage and chaos of the storm had tried to fight against the calm and serene atmosphere of the humans living below but the storm was gone and the houses remained.

Ambulance dragged away two injured burglars as police asked Greg and Henry a hundred questions. The calm air of Greg’s home was replaced with the feeling of rattled nerves and slowly calming adrenaline. As the police officers took pictures and wrapped up their investigation. A tired recruit in damp boots spotted the fresh coffee and in a hopeful voice asked “hey, can I have some coffee?”

The head officer scowled and Greg almost started to laugh. Instead of laughing, Greg just gestured to the coffee maker and said “help yourself”

Nature's change

Summer in the hills, green grass flowing as far as the eye could see. Sunlight shimmered off the water of Star Pond. The pond was large, located on the top of the tallest hill in the area and at night you could see the reflection of stars in the water.

Small cottages dotted the landscape, warm and cozy at night, a roaring hearth located in each little home, and cool and breezy during the day. The hill land ended abruptly at a valley where the mounds of earth of every size suddenly dropped off and made way for flat emerald green land. The tall grass of the valley swayed in the wind like waves in the ocean.

The warm days of summer and swimming in lakes gave way to the Fall season. The Fall colored the grass and trees with warm yellow, orange and red. The tall grass dried and looked like a golden wheat field. The best food of the year was harvested, stored and feasted on.

The valley had more cottages and houses clustered together. The terrain was forgiving and ripe for farming. At the edge of the valley was a great and mighty forest. Few forests in the world could be described as ‘mighty’, but the Ancient Wildwood not only covered a large section of land but the deeper into the forest the stronger the trees grew. The tall old trees were as big around as a cottage and the bark was as strong as iron. The people of the Valley would harvest the trees on the edge of the forest but no one ever successfully chopped down a tree in depths of the Ancient Wildwood.

The tall and ancient trees still bowed to nature like all trees do and their leaves we awash with bright orange and red. The Wildwood was so vibrant in the fall it could be seen for miles and looked as if it had caught fire.

The leaves of Autumn fell as the days grew cold. Late Autumn rain, cloudy skies and the bare branches of ancient trees made an eerie yet beautiful sight. A man carrying a lantern walked through the deep Wildwood, his small light bounced with each step. Through the forest and onto the edge of the land was a steep cliff side. The sheer cliff would have been impassible if not for a small winding trail that lead from the forest down to the sand beach below.

The path was steep and one false step could lead to a deadly fall to the shore below. Down the path and onto the windy beach, the rain from the season mixed with the cold of the ocean. Waves crashed against the sand, rain fell from the sky and wind blew in from the furthest reaches of the world.

Autumn drifted away like a falling leaf and winter blew. The rain was replaced with snow and the cold air mixed with the warm exhaling breath. Visible steam like breath puffed from the traveler’s nose and mouth as he stepped aboard a large ship. The ship was leaving this land and off to explore the unknown.

The chill brought in from the ocean heightened the cold of winter. Back in the forest the animals hid inside the great trees for shelter. The Ancient Wildwood might have lost its leaves but it would not bend to even the coldest winds of winter. The Wildwood lasted hundreds of years and stood against hundreds of winters. The people of the land did not worship the Ancient Wildwood but they did treat it with respect and hoped to also be as sturdy and enduring as the forest itself.

The snow had settled in the valley, the wind from the ocean was broken by the cliffside and tall standing forest. Trails of smoke lifted up from a dozen chimneys, the smoke curled and twisted on the breeze as it floated away.

From the Valley to the Hills, the snow had settled everywhere. The hills were so covered in snow that it was hard to tell where the snow stopped and the rock began. Star Pond had frozen over, the ice shimmered like glass and the pond took on an even more mystical aura as if it were a giant mirror hidden away in the hills.

Night in the hills was clear and every star was visible. The cold of winter sent chilling wind blowing over the glassy Star Pond. The people in the Valley often told stories of highest hill and Star Pond. They worried that on winter nights, when the air was cold and the sky appeared larger than normal, it would be possible to fall up into the blackness of space.

Just as night faded to day so did winter melt away. Spring crept in, slow and with caution. The snow turned to puddles, the Pond turned from icy glass back to water and the earth turned damp and muddy. The gray skies, rainy weather and muddy ground was far from the bright bloom of spring that most wished for but the damp weather meant water for plants and the plants did grow and eventually they bloomed. The bright blooming flowers and trees sprung up across the Hills and Valley. The Ancient Wildwood turned emerald green and the ocean by the shore calmed to a more reasonable pace.

            The people of the Hills and Valley were happy, they began their planting of crops, the children played in the muddy valley and swam in the cold water of Star Pond. The land and people grew another year older and observed another year of natures changing beauty.

Grunts

Grunting echoed down the hallway, the guttural sounds bouncing off the walls and smooth polished floor. Ethan the intern nervously fixed the collar of his shirt as he walked briskly toward the source of the noise.

The sound grew louder, the sound resembling a gorilla trying to break free from a cage or the sound of fighting to the death. Ethan was the lowest ranking employee and he was told to investigate. The poor soul knew the source of the sounds and shivered at the thought of it.

The grunting grew louder. The grunts were joined by the sound of clanking metal and a deep thud of the floor. Ethan grew more worried. The specimen sounded very large and Ethan knew he didn’t stand a chance if the situation turned hostile.

Ethan walked down the linoleum hallway, the smell of floor cleaning invaded his senses. ‘Lemon Fresh’ shook Ethan by the shoulders and demanded to be noticed. ‘lemon punched in the face’ would have been a more aptly named product.

Finally Ethan reached the large double doors and pushed one open. He entered into a large room full of people. Ethan looked and saw the source of the grunting, a large man lifting weights. Ethan nervously shuffled over to the man. Ethan straightened up his back, summoned up his courage and said “Excuse me sir, you have been, erm, grunting too loudly. It is bothering the other members” Ethan used his most official voice. The man looked embarrassed “Hey, sorry about that. Making noises helps me lift heavier weights” Replied the man. Ethan was surprised by how polite the grunting gym member was. “No problem, Sir. Just please keep it down” Ethan replied, then briskly walked away.

Ethan had never worked at a gym before and never once in his life did he think he would have to ask someone to stop grunting loudly. The situation turned out much better than expected but he suspected this wouldn’t be last time he had to remind someone not to grunt so loudly.

Another day at the office

The air was stale, florescent light penetrated every corner of the room and Jeff was talking about another television show idea. Ted worked in a group who came up with ideas for TV shows. They sat around a table with room temperature cups of coffee and talked.

“People are bored with us, they have all of these streaming services and shit and don’t care about cable” Jeff said in an attempt to energize his workers. “Cable television is actually still doing well but if there is a problem its because these streaming services try new ideas while we continue to produce the same kind of show.” Ted explained as he looked up from his pile of papers. Ted was not feeling pumped up to be at work and was annoyed that only he looked at the data gathered. “Ted, Nobody likes the ‘well actually’ guy” Said Jeff. Ted twisted up his face for a second then relaxed it. He muttered under his breath “Well nobody likes you Jeff and your stupid fucking mouth”. No one heard Ted and the meeting continued.

“So what about a show about people in the city, their different struggles as they deal with a world that only glorifies the rich and diminishes the poor. I think it would get praise for its social commentary” Suggested Frank. Frank had dark hair and wore a purple tie. “No, we don’t want to sound like socialists or something. Besides, being rich is great!” Jeff told Frank. “Yes, I am sure being rich is great but almost no one gets to experience that. Wouldn’t it be better to have a show to help people see a real struggle than to glorify the rich?” Asked Ted. Jeff let out a long annoyed sigh “Listen, Ted, if you want to be some kind of communist whatever, its fine, it’s a free country, but  do it on your own time” Jeff said.

“What about a show about a clumsy girl from the Midwest who is hapless but is somehow making it on her own in the city?” Mark suggested. “YES!” Jeff cheered. “See everyone, Mark has it”  Ted spoke up again “I have the data here, in fact we all do. That kind of show is done to death and people aren’t responding to it as much. We need something new!” Ted chimed in. Ted was part of the creative team and was hired to give insight and new ideas but then found out that no one wanted to hear his ideas.

            Jeff stared at Ted, Jeff’s face twisted into some hideous angry version of itself. One second passed but it seemed like an eternity. “That was the best idea all day. People like the familiar. They don’t like new, they don’t like being reminded of their problems like whatever crap you keep talking about!” Jeff shouted. He then calmed down and straightened his tie.

            “What if it’s a guy from the Midwest instead of a hapless woman?” Asked Anne, who was wearing black and had her red hair pulled back into a bun. Jeff gave a condescending smirk like a child was giving out ideas. “No one would believe it if it was a guy. Guys are less likely to be clumsy and get lost. We wouldn’t have as many opportunities for jokes” Jeff replied in a calm voice. It was at this moment Anne wondered if she could get away with murder even with five witnesses.

In her mind the headline reads “Jeff Aourenbough dies of knife wounds, room full of people all say they saw nothing. Mark Applebottom also dies mysteriously. Anne smirked to at the thought.

            Everyone had pretty much checked out at this point. Jeff was satisfied with another successful meeting while the rest of the group wondered why they even bothered to have meetings.

            The workday was over and Ted was one of the first ones to leave. He emerged from an elevator that took him to the parking garage. Ted saw Jeff walking to his car, Ted thought about waving or saying goodbye but decided against it. Ted walked to his car with the posture of a man carrying a hundred pound rock on his shoulders. He pressed the button on his keys and unlocked his car. Then he heard an engine revving and a car coming up from around the corner. A tan sedan was speeding entirely too fast through the parking garage, rounded the corner and was driving straight at Jeff. Jeff was walking to his car and didn’t notice right away. He heard the car’s engine and turned just as the car stuck him. Jeff rolled up along the hood of the car before falling in a broken heap on the ground.

            Ted sighed, then got in his car and drove away. It was just another day at the office.

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.

The Vanguard Part 1 of 2

            The cold winter wind blew through the White Mountain peeks. The small town of Wolfpeek was miles from any other town or settlement. Anyone who traveled through the mountain pass would stop at Wolfpeek to rest before continuing on their journey. The town population was very small, only a handful of determined people lived there all year round. They were the ones who maintained the general store, the Inn and the stables that the visitors relied on. The town population was low but visitors were so frequent that the town never felt empty.

            Jillian Cole was a woman with medium length black hair, pale skin like the snow and reddish brown eyes. She was not a towering figure or even an extremely muscular one, yet she still managed to be an intimidating figure. Jillian walked into the horse head Inn, he black metal armor clanked and rustled with each step. Her whole body was armored but it wasn’t the bulky suit of armor knights had, this was designed for mobility. The joints and under the arms had thick black leather instead of metal plate to improve on speed and flexibility. The only color she had on her armor besides black was the red scarf that was wrapped around her neck and hung down to her midsection.

            The horse head Inn was a large, dimly lit room full of tables and chairs. There was a bar and in the back was a set of stairs that led to a second floor. The second floor was more of a large loft with a row of beds. Night had passed over the land and the Inn was full of travelers drinking and laughing. Even the most seasoned traveler could find an interesting story or bit of new information in the Horse head Inn due to the number of people that passed through on a regular basis.

            Jill walked toward a chair in the far corner of the room, she undid her weapon strap and removed a large battle-axe from a holder on her back. She set the axe against the wall and sat down with a heavy clunk. Just as she sat down a barmaid walked up to Jill and with a bright smile asked “What can I get for you today, Sir?” Jill brushed her hair out of her face and stared on the bar maiden. The Barmaid was pretty enough, with blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair.

“Don’t see many women in armor? In such a well traveled place like this, I thought you would have seen it all” Replied Jill, she smiled in her best attempt to be friendly. The Barmaid looked surprised “Oh I am sorry Madam. I-its dark and your hair was in your face and I thought, well don’t mind me now. What can I be getting’ for ya?” She said nervously. Jill tried to smile again but had reached her limit. “Just an ale, thanks” She said. The Barmaid nodded, gave a nervous smile and ran off.

            Jill wondered why she was trying to be nice. She wasn’t one for small talk and rarely let things slide. The barmaid reminded Jill of someone she used to know. The barmaid returned and set the beer down on the table and gave a smile and Jill smiled back. Jill figured she must either be exhausted or had spent too long on the road alone because she was never this friendly.

           Jill tried to focus on the journey ahead, she pulled maps, papers and letters from her bag. She had letters from all kinds of people, Lords and kings to farmers and sailors, every letter asking for her help with a battle, fight, war or just asking to scare off some local gang. The maps were covered ink, little notes about places she had been and drawings of landmarks.

            The night continued on and Jill mostly kept to herself, drinking her ale and thinking about her journey. But as she made plans for her trip ahead her mind kept bringing her back, back to a simpler time. A time when Jillian didn’t always wear armor and she still had people she considered friends. The peaceful days when she had a hometown and made plans to settle down.

            “Excuse me Madam, will ya be needing anything else?” Asked the Barmaid. Jill looked up from her drink and her pile of papers. She had maps, letters and scraps of paper spread out on the table in front of her. Most of the night she was studying the map but the last half hour she was just staring at it as her mind drifted into memories.

            When Jill looked up she saw the Barmaid’s expression had softened. She no longer looked afraid of Jill and her smile was warmer than ever. Jill was pulled so suddenly from her memories she had to assume her own expression must have been pitiful enough to make a once timid Barmaid now feel sorry for her. “What is your name?” Jill asked. “Andrian” Replied Andrian the barmaid. Jill smiled. This time it was a smaller yet more genuine smile.
”Andrian would you like to have a drink with me? Its been ages since I have had someone to talk to that wasn’t a brutish man” Jill asked. Andrian giggled “Yes we do get a lot of those” She replied. Then she smiled and hesitated before speaking again. “I think my shift is almost over, most people be needin’ sleep more than they need beer right now anyway” Andrian replied.

            Jill stayed at the table and put away her maps as Andrian talked to the Innkeeper. Andrian came back to the table with two fresh beers. Jill found it surprisingly easy to talk with Andrian, Jill didn’t have to intimidate anyone or keep up her guard. The barmaid was a genuinely nice person, a little simple maybe, but nice. Plus if Andrian did try something, Jill was pretty sure she could win in a fight. Cheerful, little strawberry blonde trying to fight a heavily armored traveler with a battle-axe. The thought of Andrian trying to pick a fight with anyone made Jill laugh.

            The sun was starting to come up and the two women were still at the table talking and having a great time. Jill was drunk and tired but kept drinking and didn’t want to sleep. Andrian reminded her of someone and the thought of this mystery person kept weaving in and out of her head. Andrian was in the middle of a funny story when she noticed Jill lean forward like she was going to fall over. Before Andrian could react Jill kissed her on the lips. Andrian’s eyes went wide and she froze. Jill pulled back and drunkenly began to apologies. “Sorry, I had a nice time but I think I should go to bed. I didn’t mean to…uh, Sorry again. I should go to sleep” Jill said sounding flustered. She tried to stand up and as she did she almost fell right over. Her armor clanked and rustled as she slowly got to her feet. “I am just gonna…” Jill said to Andrian as Jill motioned to the upstairs. Again mentioning she needed sleep.

            Jill began to stumble off, embarrassed and angry. Embarrassed that she kissed a person she just met and angry that she let her guard down. Getting this drunk and exhausted was dangerous when you traveled alone. Andrian caught up with Jill and smiled. “here let me help” She said to Jill. Jill nodded and smiled again. Andrian waved to the barkeep as she led Jill away from the main room, through a door and into a small room with a bed. “I don’t want you getting robbed or something in your weakened state…so you can stay here in my bed. I live here at the Inn so...” Andrian said nervously. Jillian leaned in and kissed Andrian again. This time Andrian wasn’t shocked and Jill didn’t pull away.

            Morning came too soon as the light of day shined through the shutters of the small bedroom. Jill woke up to find she was naked in bed with Andrian the barmaid. “Shit shit shit” Jill muttered. She was relieved to see that her armor and all of her possessions were not stolen or lost while Jill was in her drunken state. In fact all of Jill’s things were neatly piled in the corner of the room. While most would consider it a victory to end up in a pretty girls bed after a night of drinking, Jill didn’t. She had to be careful, so many things could have gone wrong and she couldn’t afford to let her guard down.

            Andrian rolled over and put her arms around Jill. Jill blushed as she began to remember the things they did together. Drunk Jill was as fearless and bold in bed as she was in battle. Sober Jill could handle the carnage of battle but having a naked woman next to her made her embarrassed and nervous. “Maybe I have been alone for too long if this is how I am acting” Jill told herself. 

            “I had a great night” Andrian said with a giggle. Jill blushed again and then turned to Andrian. “S-so did I” Jill replied. Jill realized who Andrian reminded her of. To her surprise Jill realized that Andrian reminded her of Delana, Jill’s previous girlfriend. Delana had red hair, not strawberry blond, her eyes were different and in many ways looked nothing like this Barmaid. But there was something about Andrian that made Jill think about Delana. “Maybe I am going crazy and every girl is starting to look like her” Jill thought. Andrian had similar mannerisms and her behavior was close to Delana, but Jill didn’t make the connection right away because they two didn’t actually look alike. It also explained why Jill let her guard down so quickly to a stranger.

            “I am still on a journey. I don’t think I can stick around. I am sorry if that upsets you” Jill said rigidly. She felt guilt from letting her guard down and now risked hurting someone who reminded her of Delana. Andrian stretched and got out of bed. “What? No, don’t worry about it. I know better than to expect a traveler to stick around. Besides I am looking for a husband, not a wife. I got to keep my body pure so I can’t have sex before I am married. So this helped keep my urges at bay until I find the right man” Andrian said.

            Jill’s eyes went wide, she didn’t know if she was more hurt, surprised or relieved. “Well g-good. Because I can’t stay so that makes things easier. But, uh, we did have sex, so you can’t call yourself a virgin who is waiting till marriage” Jill said, trying to speak carefully so as to not show emotion. “heheh, you’re so silly. No I mean real sex. Like with a man. you’re a girl, we can’t make babies or nothing so you don’t count” Andrian said as she got dressed. “I-I don’t count?” Jill stammered feeling hurt. “No, its just like girls helping each other out…” Andrian said then paused. “We are all just looking for a husband right? I mean you are a soldier so you must do stuff like this all the time just to get by. You can’t end up with a girl, how would you have babies?” Asked Andrian.

            Jill stared with unblinking eyes. “I guess you can’t have babies. But no I am not looking for a husband, I want a wife and to settle down. This isn’t a game. I don’t just sleep with strangers while I wait for prince charming to show up and put babies in me! And yes that did count! You aren’t a virgin you are a whore” Jill said. He anger grew as she spoke and couldn’t hold it in at the end. Jill put on her clothes grabbed her gear and stormed out.

            Jill wasn’t looking to start a life with anyone right now and this worked in her favor. Jill could leave without any guilt. This worked out. Jill was still upset though. She might have slept with a stranger in a moment of weakness but it still meant something to her. Andrian might have been a stranger but having traits similar to Delana, who Jill loved, made Jill feel like there might have been a connection. Jill wasn’t planning on staying but that doesn’t mean that night they spent together couldn’t mean something. Two ships passing in the night, but still a memorable night. “Oh it was nothing eh? Just wait in the mountains for a man to come rescue you?” Jill muttered as she angrily marched down the path, slowly putting on her armor as she went. Jill was also annoyed that she let her guard down for someone so foolish. Jill wouldn’t insult marriage or starting a family, but the thought of waiting for a man to come swoop and start making babies together seemed like weakness. Jill wasn’t about to wait for the woman of her dreams to swoop in and carry her off to a perfect life of marriage and happiness. Everything in life takes work