There was no sun in the sky, and no moon. Only the occasional star lit the way out of the walled city, with its strange florescent green lights. The buildings stood taller than what seemed imaginable as I looked over the edge to see the city, the walls created with a strange black substance. The air was unbelievably cold, aided with a seemingly unachievable silence.

A girl stood next to me, her long, bright red hair flowing in the sharp breeze that seemed to feel like a really good freezer. Her black attire, a shirt, jacket, and close-fitting pants that had been into a pair of thick boots, only seemed to make her hair and yellow eyes even brighter. Two thin objects, which appeared to be sword sheaths, hung at her waist. The girl's expression was blank, as if there was no emotion in the world in her mind.

A strange sound came from below, followed by a chorus of screams. A large fire sprouted in the city. Horrified, I could do nothing but look at the lack of recognition of the dire situation on the girl's face. She smirked (she does that a lot; I figured that out after a while). I opened my mouth to demand why, but all that came out was a weak croak(it wouldn't have worked out, anyway, I mean, since when have I "demanded" anything?).

Without turning, she spoke: "I am guessing that you wonder why I stand by."

Absently, I gave her the best glare I could. She smiled again at this "I am in no position at the moment to take action. Not yet, anyway. Tomorrow I conference with the enemy, to discuss a coup", her mouth tightened at this statement.

I didn't really care what she was going to the next day. Heck, I didn't care whether she even existed, I just wanted to know why this girl was intruding on my REM cycles. As if she had read my mind, the girl answered, her eyes drifting slightly towards me "It is not my choice to enter your dreams. My own body is also in a comatose state at this moment. Honestly, I could say that you are the one who is interrupting."

It was about then that I noticed that her accent sounded a bit English. Why hadn't I thought of that earlier...then again, I probably would have sounded like someone from some weird alternate country, too. She then turned a full one-eighty over to me, and I got a full view of her face. It was like looking at what I would have been like if I'd been royalty. Her skin looked like it had never seen the sun (it actually hadn't, like, ever), she held her head high as if there was a ruler between her chin and her collar-bone. When I got a closer look at her eyes, I could no longer describe the iris's as merely yellow. They were the shade the maple leaves in our yard turned not long after school started (I'd always viewed this as a cliché), the color that ringed the nearly blinding sun, the crayon that I would only use on Wednesdays as a kid (I was weird). Her long eyelashes covered the tops of her eyelids so thickly that it seemed her eyes were hidden in a cover of thorns.

She stared at me for another moment as if she was studying me the same way I was her, then smirked (again), saying "Good luck, by the way. Oh, and, for further reference...my name is Valkyrie."

I then felt like a freight train had hit me in the stomach. Not looking at where I was backing up when hit with the pain, I shuffled almost over the edge. Gravity did the rest, and I then had the joy of feeling that funny sensation that happens at the top of the roller-coaster (it always make me feel like I'm about to pee...). As my vision darkened, I focused on the red-haired girl, who hadn't moved at all.

You should have seen the look on one of the nurses' face when I woke up that morning. Most of my injuries had almost completely healed, including many of the cuts on my face, legs, and hands. Even my headache seemed non-existent, and I got away with dealing with a limp instead of a searing pain whenever I took a step. I was starting to wonder if I was actually dreaming, and that I'd read too many X-Men comics until I realized that I could already remember a different dream. I mean, sure, a person has an average of three or four dreams a night, but I usually don't remember half of one ten minutes after I wake up, so that option was out.

"It is because I have a better healing mechanism than you. You gained that when we bonded."

It was not a happy feeling to know that there were actually voices in my head(Well, one voice... at that point, anyway). At least I had a theory of what she looked like.

"Oh yeah? And what did you get from me?" I asked back, trying my best to speak only mentally and verbally.

There was a slight chuckle "you'll find out. Eventually. It is more a trait than you think. Much more"

I didn't want to spend hours of my time trying to figure that out, so I just dismissed it, and read some more comics. I was picked up by Byron, who'd given me a spare change of jeans (PAAAAAANNNNNNTTTTSSSS!), a t-shirt, and my favorite hoodie (I could tell that Mom had forced him to bring it. If he had been given a choice, he'd have given me my one dress). I never noticed it before, but the pile of books seemed heavy for even me, so I would have to ask Xavier how he managed to carry it all the way from the parking lot to my hospital room.

The drive home was heaven, even with Mr. Annoyingly Prefect sitting next to me. I was on good cushioned seats with the perfect temperature, and nothing could destroy my good mood. Okay, maybe some things could ruin my day, but not everything. It's not that easy to tick me off...right?

I was immensely thankful that it was a weekend (I hate homework). When the SUV rolled into the driveway, I might as well have sprinted when I noticed that no one else was home- Mom had dropped Tina off at her field hockey game, and Xavier was probably so deep into what he called the "Man Cave" (everyone else just calls it his room) that he wouldn't be able to hear it if we had an earthquake (we've actually already gone through a couple minor ones). I was out of the car before Byron had undone the seat-belt.

I ran to the best of my ability (Byron didn't try to stop me. I don't think anyone would have been able to) in through the back door, quickly grabbed a granola bar, navigated through the small piles of books and papers, and closed my bedroom (and Tina's) door securely behind me.

I had gotten a quick glance at my reflection before, but I didn't quite realize how dead I looked until I looked at the mirror Tina had put on a wall on her side of the room. It was like looking at a ghost. Though some of my injuries had healed, there were some cuts that I could tell would probably leave scars. My skin seemed much more pale than usual. The dark circles under my eyes appeared even larger, and my eyes looked as if they'd sunken more inside their sockets.

"I could say you look like death, but that would only worsen the situation."

I was tempted to reply that she'd already said (or thought?) it, but decided that she already knew what she had said.

I looked back at the other me, getting an idea when I saw the uneven mass that could barely be called hair. Making sure not to make any noise when passing the other rooms, I went into the kitchen and grabbed the scissors (I held them with only one hand, by the way). When I looked back at my reflection, I took one section of my mane and raised the blades. In less than a second, I felt the long strands trickling through the spaces in between my fingers as they floated to the floor (I started thinking about the Disney movie Mulan right about then). I repeated this with a strange reliving joy until I was left with a disorienting bed of short hair.

I looked back at myself. Now I really look like a psycho, I thought. I gave myself an overbearing grin at this thought, sure to stare at how the other me looked like those antagonists who always turned out to be insane.

I spent the rest of the day staying in my room, staring into nothing, ridding myself of all my emotions.

I was somewhere else again, but instead of techno-hell, I was in a place that made me want to play one of those older RPGs that involved a large amount of dragon fighting (this is actually kind of ironic). I don't think I had ever seen so many trees in my life. In the middle of the desolate-seeming forest, there was a cozy looking log building. I walked towards it, taking in my surroundings. There were bird calls I had never heard, and the air had a slight odor of pine. When I stepped through the doors of the building, the smell changed drastically into something that nearly made me empty my stomach (though I don't think that would be very plausible in a dream). Alcohol. I was in some form of bar.

The tables were surrounded by people, mostly men, and were covered in a thick cover of noise. There was a very small amount of women; other than one girl who circled around the tables, giving out food and drink, it was a room filled to the brim with men. Masculine men. Their clothing didn't get rid of the fantasy theme; there were plenty of jackets that reminded me of The Fellowship of the Ring.

A loud bang came from behind me, and the room went silent. Standing in front of the open door stood, well, me. Her long dark hair was escaping from its cover of her hooded cloak. Her skin had an athletic tan, as if she lived out in the sun. It was easy to notice an array of small packs and weapon sheathes that were partially hidden beneath the cloak. Ignoring that everyone seemed to be silent due to her entrance, the girl walked forward, talking to the serving girl. The girl then nervously pointed to a room towards the back, and the girl who seemed to be me walked in that direction.

As soon as she walked away, the guests went back to their alcohol-induced laughing and singing. I decided to follow me. Well, the other me. As I walked in, I nearly knocked into the wall. The main room may have been dark, but this was nearly pitch black. As my eyes adjusted, I began to notice that there were three people in the room. One was the girl that had just walked in, the other two were boys about her age. I did my best to listen, as they were whispering even in the secluded place.

The girl started, her voice a bit rougher than mine or Valkyrie's " What do you mean, a month? We need enough time to prepare! Have you seen those half-heads? For all I know, it could take years to get them off well enough to hold a sword. Let alone one of those."

The reply came from a boy whose silhouette was barely taller than hers "Do you have a better idea, Kazjia? If we were to wait for a fortnight after, there might be a blizzard, and then where would we be, other than in Nortvaah?" I had no idea what Nortvaah meant, but I could tell it wasn't good.

"We would be there if we were to go earlier! Do you know how skilled the Honvkols are? When I came across one, I barely walked away with my life!"

"I thought you defeated him in less than a minute, walking out with nary a bruise."

"Forthen Ka is a braggart and a terrible innkeeper. Would you really believe that two-timing swamf?"

"Oh, who is taking fuel from rumors now?"

Their voices had gone from angry whispers to very audible speaking. The other in the room, who seemed to be a giant in comparison to me (I am short. Very short.) broke his silence, letting out a deeper voice "Trojem, Naztaah! arguing will do nothing. We must focus on the task at hand," he then turned towards the door, sensing that leaving them alone might help their quarreling "I will get us food."

The two left stood in silence. The girl walked forward to leave, turned back to speak "my name is not Kazjia.", and opened the door into the bar.