"Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?"
LM Montgomery

Chapter 1

The silver, sharpened tip of my longsword slid down into the ground. With a heavy sigh, I sank to my knees, and from there to a regular sitting position on the vibrant green grass. I folded my legs under me in just the right way to be comfortable in this armor. I had to watch my footing around this ledge; one slip-up, and you'd be toppling down from the outcropping before you could even scream, and no sword or knowledge of fighting would help you.

Not that I would, I mean. Screaming completely destroys any credibility you have of being tough, particularly for a Warrior like me, but especially if you scream about something that isn't worth screaming about. Yelling is different, though. Yelling is more aggressive, and it's just more… well, less embarrassing, I guess.

"Wow, what an internal debate," I mused. "That could almost start a war—the difference between yelling and screaming."I closed my eyes, tilting my head back. Blonde bangs slipped back off my forehead as I did. Whichever is better… this is nice. I opened my eyes again, looking down at my feet with distaste, noticing just how tiny they appeared from this vantage point. They were sore… really sore. Not just that sort of sore you get from standing around all day, or just working all day. The kind of sore you get when you've been walking from dawn until dusk for the past week or so.

"You traitors," I muttered glumly. "You're part of me, you're supposed to work with me, not against me!"

Whatever reply my feet (as interesting as they were) might have made then was instantly drowned out by a sort of bellowing roar that sounded from behind me. I may not have had a warrior's instincts just yet, but I was getting there. Hey, that's better than nothing, right? Six years of training with a sword had its perks. I whirled around, only tugging my sword from the ground once I was on my feet once more. In a practiced move that I had done probably thousands of times, the tip of the blade came up and I pivoted on my left foot, placing my right foot further forward. Both hands on the handle, and I was ready to fight.

Just… maybe not something quite so big.

I currently faced a Gorillaphant, and it was… well, a lot taller than the other monsters I'd grown accustomed to fighting. I'm used to fighting Seed Spitters and Sneevils, I thought with shock. Not… these things! Beady yellow eyes glared at me, and they seemed… well, 'stupid' didn't seem like the right term… but the overall meaning was what did come to mind. Then I decided that, like most of the other mid-occupying things in a battle, it really didn't matter right now. I scowled at the huge gray creature.

"Are you challenging me?" I asked in a murmur, studying it intently through gleaming slate-gray eyes. I frequently gave a monster that I had stumbled across or vice-versa a chance to back down before fighting it. Half of the time, they were just animals that had accidentally stumbled into adventurers, and really wanted nothing to do with them. But the adventurer typically chose to fight, and so battle began.

But I digress.

The Gorillaphant bellowed in defiance, and I smiled. My new opponent had thrown the gauntlet. Just because I give my would-be adversaries a chance to retreat doesn't mean that I don't like to fight. I love the adrenaline rush that it brings, and the complete absence of thought that comes with it. It's just action, reaction. It's live or die. It brings out a primal side to us that is rarely seen, and I love it. Absence of propriety is natural, and to be natural is to be beauty.

With a battle cry that rivaled the Gorillaphant's for volume and sent birds fleeing from the trees, I charged, faltering for a fraction of a second on that last step to give my sword time to come around. My blade did not slice easily through flesh—any steel thin enough to be that razor sharp wouldn't last seconds in a real fight. No, mine was thick and edged. It dealt out damage as any sword ought to—three parts sharp, and one part weight and power. A good portion of that last part was how well the handler could swing that sword. Fortunately, I had been trained.

I opened a gash in one of the Gorillaphant's massive forearms that had risen as it attempted to defend itself. It was a long slash, and wide, but it wasn't deep. It did no serious damage, but with any luck, it would have given the monster a chance to think twice about confronting me. However, no such luck. The animal's eyes shone with a mad fury, and it threw its head around. One of its long, curved tusks caught me around the middle, sending me flying.

Knew I should have gotten out of the blast range, I thought cheerfully as I twisted in midair before sailing behind some bushes. Thin branches whipped viciously against my face as I turned. I'll probably just get a cracked rib or three out of this. I skidded to a stop on my knees (I feared the scratches that might permanently be on my armor from this), and went charging back into the fray. I jumped as high as I could, turning my sword in my hands so the point faced down as I went, and planted the soles of my feet on the Gorillaphant's back, allowing weight to carry my blade cleanly into the space within the thick, tangled gray fur that lay between my feet.

The momentum of my leap—combined with the impact of the blade running through more than one internal organ—forced my opponent to the ground, face-first. All was still for a minute while I caught my breath, and I withdrew my sword from the back of the Gorillaphant. I inspected the blade with satisfaction. You've continued to serve me well, my friend, I contemplated with a smile. Blood that had a greenish-silver cast to it coated the pale metal.

Contrary to popular belief, most monsters (the ones that were flesh and blood, at least) actually bled green.

I stepped just a little unsteadily off of my now-dead challenger. Now that the adrenaline rush was fading, I felt just a bit empty. A slight tickling sensation made itself known on my cheek, and with a sense of growing apprehension, I swiped at it with the back of my armor-covered hand. It came back with a thin smear of red.

"Oh…" I exhaled as I dropped to a sitting position, and far less gracefully than I had only minutes ago. My blood… not a good thing. My vision began to swim, and colors began to blur together. Except for that heinous red… that dark scarlet color that made my stomach churn and threaten to reject my breakfast from earlier that day.

Hemophobia, I thought with what could only be described as irritation through a quickly clouding mind. But only with my own blood… unheard of, especially among Warriors…

A faint shouting reached my ears. It was a discordant and jumbled sort of noise, but it was the sound of men… Men, not monsters. And while that made me feel slightly better about the whole situation, the up-and-coming feeling of me passing out did not. The yells seemed to carry a note of urgency in them.

Yells, not screams, I thought smugly. I was right… they are different…

With that final thought, the sky and the ground swapped places for the last time, and then quickly faded to black from there.

A pair of hazel eyes flashed across my vision. Then there were three pairs of eyes, and then two heads ringed by blonde hair. Six arms, a sparkly pewter color, and a huge hammer that might not even have been there… Well, bang goes reality. I didn't even try to keep my mind lucid, not now. Sinking back into the darkness was too easy… In the back of my mind, I knew that I was floating between the waking world and my own personal unconsciousness.

At the moment, I much preferred the latter.

There was still the little voice in the back of my head that was, more or less, a running commentary on what was going on around me. It wasn't so much a voice as it was just me registering my surroundings while still, as I liked to say, 'out of it.' It was a much more preferable term to 'knocked out.'

I hated being afraid of blood. Specifically, my own blood. The blood of other people didn't bother me, insofar as one can be not bothered by blood from someone else. The sight of my own blood just sent me into a spiral of dizziness, made my stomach want to heave, and caused the sun to black out. I absolutely hated it. In my opinion, it was just a weakness—a handicap that I needed to rid myself of if I ever wanted to become the deadliest female Warrior that Lore had ever seen. And so far, I was well on my way to becoming so. Not many people knew me as a hero yet, but it wouldn't be long now.

Hopefully.

But with my hemophobia issue, who knows? If I saw my own blood and passed out in the middle of a battle or something, I'd hardly be much help, would I? I'd sag to the ground like nothing more than a pile of rags, and if I didn't want to get killed, someone would have to drag me out of there. Talk about a self-destroying future. I could see it now, the 'sometimes hero.'

Yeah, that would go well.

Like emerging from a dark tunnel, I opened my eyes to my surroundings. Wooden beams that, no doubt, supported a ceiling (brilliant deductive skills, huh?) were above me, and I could hear a quiet babble going on around me. Bewildered, I sat up quickly, holding back a wince from the twinge of pain my ribs gave, trying to take in information about my location as quickly as my eyes could offer it. It took several minutes, though; sitting up too quickly had made my head spin.

At the moment, I was very sure that there weren't supposed to be six walls, and that wood wasn't blue. I blinked away the dizziness within a minute or two, though, giving my head a little shake to rid myself of it completely before really looking around. I'm not good at taking in the very minute details that some people do, but I can get the overall feel of a place. Besides, in my fuzzy condition, I couldn't very well do much better.

At first glance, I wanted to say it was a hospital of sorts, just… really small, and a little scruffier than they usually come. But on a second full-room scan, I corrected myself. There weren't many ill or wounded people there, and there were quite a number of free beds. A small nightstand sat next to each bed, and most had both healing potions and a clipboard resting on them. A doctor with flaming red hair and a younger man dressed the same way walked around from here to there. I assumed the other man was an assistant or a volunteer.

"Just a small medical wing," I realized. Most of the men I saw lying on cots like mine had (usually) incomplete suits of armor sitting on the bench at the end of their bed. "They're knights…?" I wondered out loud. I didn't expect the answer to come from the man in a long white coat tending to the man on my left.

"Knights of the Pactagonal Table," he answered as he turned to me. Without any hesitation, he bent down a little bit after placing a hand lightly on the top of my head to keep me still. The redhead stared methodically into each of my eyes before straightening and smiling. "You've recovered well, young lady." I grinned.

"I usually do," I replied, shrugging my honey-colored braid back over my shoulder. I looked around again. "Where exactly… am I, though?"

"Oaklore Keep," the doctor said, picking up a clipboard that rested on my side table, making a note of something. "I'm the resident doctor, Sir Junn. Moving on, I don't want you up and moving around for another few days at least, Miss…?"

"My name's Calliope," I told him cheerfully, resting back on my palms. I winced as my ribcage protested, and I felt as though someone might have just slipped a knife between my ribs. The doctor caught this, and I looked at him sheepishly.

"May I ask what you were thinking, fighting with broken ribs?" he asked sternly. I didn't take it personally; most doctors were just like this, especially those with a good bedside manner. They were concerned with their patients' state of mind, and stayed concerned about them just throwing themselves into danger. Still, I gave him a helpless smile.

"Hey, it wasn't by choice," I defended myself good-naturedly. "It was all the Gorillaphant's fault, anyway. Besides, I can slay my own dragons."

"Gorillaphant?" Sir Junn's gaze sharpened, then it turned knowing. "The tusks?"

"Yup."

A man coughing violently from the next bed over caught his attention, and he replaced whatever clipboard had been by my cot before moving on. He gave parting instructions as he walked over, though. "You still shouldn't be up and about with those ribs, though, Miss. If you want them to heal at all, you'll stay put for the next few days, and avoid rough activity like yesterday for the next few weeks. In any case, you're lucky the Captain was out and found you."

"The Captain?" I questioned rhetorically, tilting my head. As for my ribs, I took the news easily. I usually bounced back from an injury or a shock pretty quickly. And anyway, I had no plans to stay put. I'll find out when the doc's lunch break is, I thought devilishly, for once not voicing my thoughts aloud. I can sneak out then. Then something else struck me. Wait a minute…

"Yesterday?!" I yelped, my eyes flying wide. I slammed my palm against my forehead, gritting my teeth. "Great… I've lost an entire day of traveling. Wonderful." This just made me more anxious to get out and moving again. I crawled to the end of my bed after Sir Junn had moved on from the man to my right, and hailed the medical assistant. He had to be younger than me, if only by a year or two.

"Hey, when does the doc leave on lunch break?" I asked quietly.

"In about an hour," the assistant informed me tonelessly. He must have really been sucked into his work, I guess.

"One last thing—who's the Captain?" I asked, determined to find out who he was so I could find him and deliver my thanks to him. The assistant answered in the same bland tone, and I thought that under almost any other situation, I would probably never have talked to him.

"Captain Rolith. He's the head of all authority in Oaklore Keep."

I nodded, digesting the information, then shot one last question at the boy. "What does the Captain look like?"

His description was short and concise, and I appreciated it. "Tall, blonde hair, dark armor, and he carries a very large, decorated war hammer." The double- and triple-vision memories weren't so unreliable after all, I realized as the images of hazel eyes and blonde hair swam through my head.

"Thanks!" I said with a quick grin, and he moved on without another word. What a bland character, I internally mused, bored out of my mind now. "So I'm supposed to stay here for another few days, huh?"

I chuckled, even though it hurt. I lay back down, still grinning as I began to count down the minutes until the doc's lunch hour.

Besides, it wasn't like I had much else to do.

Hey, guys. :) Welcome back! So, most of you already know me from my other Dragonfable fanfiction, Zhi Lao'Hu. The pairing in there is Artix x OC. It's my baby, so if you haven't read it yet, I suggest you do. ^^ There are a few references and/or chapters in this new fanfiction that will make better sense if you've read that one, but this will work just fine as a standalone.

Anyway, I haven't introduced myself to you new readers. Hi, everyone, my name is JulietsReplacement. You're welcome to call me Juliet or Ari, a variation of my real name. :3 I always reply to reviews I get, usually in the A/N at the beginning of each chapter, so feel free to say whatever you like. ^^ But this time, there's a little change. ALL REVIEWS WILL BE REPLIED TO AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER, for a very special reason that will soon become clear. :D

So, the purpose of this new fanfiction is… well, you know, I'm not really sure there is a purpose. It's just for fun. But the fanfiction this time is centered around Captain Rolith! :D Oh yeah, I remember—writing keeps me sane. Yeah, that's it.

Or, mostly sane, in any case.

Now, I can guess what some of you must be thinking. "Oh noes! Rolith already has a honey! He's already married to Alina!" Well, I had the stirrings of this fanfiction starting to roll before I knew about Alina, so in my opinion, this fanfiction is fair game. ^^ So, just imagine that Rolith never met Alina. :) Okay?

If you don't like the idea of Rolith not ending up with Alina, then the back button is right there. ^^

Well, there you go. :) The first chapter and my introduction. I hope you enjoyed, and I hope you keep reading. ^^ Comments and reviews are welcomed. :D If you have any thoughts that you'd like to share, please do! ^^

The chapters might be a little slow in coming, but they will come on a regular basis, at least. :) I'm hoping for at least one up per month. "How dare you, Juliet!" you cry dramatically. "One per month?! How will we survive?" Well, you see, little voice, I could update twice in a week and then not again for three months. One a month works, yeah? :3 The thing isn't even a quarter written, to be perfectly honest. I want to pace myself this time.

Now, since I've blathered on for an entire page, I hope you all made it through the hiatus alright, and it's good to see you again. :)

Oh, and one last thing! Throughout this new ride of the fangirls, I have a new companion going with me, just tagging along at their leisure. ;) I'd like to introduce the Awesome MusicofPoetry12! :D She's become a really good friend of mine, and she's giving me the added benefit of an outside eye before the chapter gets posted. :) Treat her nicely, guys!

Again, great to see you all, and all I'm asking if you plan to continue reading is for you to cling to the rope ladder of the airship Golden Touch! :D

Juliet