"Get away!" She screamed from the top of her lungs. No, she wouldn't stand this. In her arms was a small child that clutched at the soft sheep skin cloak around her. The little girl, only about ten, didn't cry. No, she didn't shed one tear. A man brandished his sword, throwing himself in front of the woman and their child.

"Quinn! Take Freya and go." The man encouraged her. The man with the sword turned to face the malevolent man and the crazed warriors behind him. With his eyes aglow, the protective father took a stance, ready for whatever came his way. The man's horned helmet reflected the evil nature.

"Alvin, we've played your games far too long." The man declared. Behind him the woman ran far away. The only thing that stood between her and the band of warriors ready to kill her was her husband. Quinn ran faster and faster.

"Psh! You've proven yourself unworthy of the riches we scheme to take from those filthy islands and their dragons." Alvin spat. Quinn stood on the ridge. She was only a hundred footsteps or so from the boat sent to take them to wherever would provide them shelter. They were supposed to go together! Quinn and her husband Indred were supposed to escape together!

Their plan was ruined when that pesky Hobblegrunt dragons that was looting the trash came and knocked over the barrels. The guards came storming out and then they were sent on the run.

"Just let her go!" Indred begged to Alvin. Quinn didn't hear the rest of what she said, but she did see what happened.

The blood.

All the blood.

Alvin cut her husband down without a second thought. Little Freya screamed in the horror of watching her father die. Alvin and the five warriors behind him charged up the cold hill to where Quinn stood, paralyzed by the sight.

"Momma!" Freya sobbed. Quinn snapped out of it and burst towards the shore with renewed energy. The somber waves crashed hard onto the beach where a little row boat lay waiting for her passengers. The old wood was cracked and worn, but it was their last hope.

Overhead, a dark figure soared high in the sky. Quinn looked up as a shadow passed over her, but couldn't expend the energy trying to guess what it was. Although Alvin hadn't seemed to notice the large figure in the sky, it wouldn't be long before he did notice it.

"Momma where's daddy?" Freya sobbed. Quinn stroked her beautiful blonde hair and gazed into those glassy blue eyes.

"He'll be coming soon!" She cried out, feeling her own salty tears trickle down her face. Quinn set her ten summer old daughter into the old boat with musty water in the bottom. Freya sat down obediently. She had always been a good girl and wouldn't break that streak now.

Alvin's roars were heard as he came and charged down the ridge. Quinn pushed the boat into the water, feeling the frigid ocean start to soak her boots and splash at her own cloak. Freya shivered in the wind. Right as Quinn jumped to get into the boat, she fell short, landing face first in the waves.

An arrow stuck out of her back.

A very triumphant looking warrior put his bow down as they gathered along the edge of the shore. Alvin kicked the dead woman with the toe of his boot. The long gaze was pinned on that little rowboat that was being quickly pushed into the ocean.

"Sir, what should we do?" Alvin the Treacherous' first in command asked. Alvin didn't reply for a long moment. The tension was stretched thin.

"Don't follow. The dragons will get to her if the cold doesn't kill her off first." Alvin spat. The hunting party walked away with two of the three targets killed. Alvin went to bed that night, letting the image of the child drift away like the boat into the sea. In years to come, that child would be soon shoved into the back of his dull mind, but it would never be forgotten.

As for the child…

The boat drifted further into the middle of an endlessly cold eternity. Freya's lips turned blue and her fingers were losing feeling. As she wrapped the cloak around herself, she prayed to Thor that lightning would come down and kill her now. She had no food, family, or life to live. She would die out here, so why not die sooner rather than later?

"Thor, help me." She begged to the merciless wind. It was nearly night time and nothing was to be seen except for the brilliant stars that started their dance in the sky.

But that's when a shadow blocked some of them out.

The wind got louder! The stars grew dimmer! There was heavy breathing like that of a giant. Freya looked up and knew.

It had to be Thor's mighty hand to come down and snatch her out of this world and into the might feast all great warriors dreamed about. Freya always wanted to be a warrior, but never had the chance to be one. Would she get her shot in the next life?

Freya looked up as suddenly, she saw a different form. Two leathery wings were sending great gusts of wind into the ocean as they loomed not even five feet from her head. She looked up into the flat, abyssal black face of none other than a dragon!

She trembled in fear as two yellow-green eyes looked at her. The round pupils seemed to memorize her face as they stared down at her. This lone dragon tilted his head in curiosity. The little girl wasn't afraid, but mimicked the dragon's curiosity.

"Hello there, dragon." The girl murmured. The large creature seemed entranced with her speaking. The ears of the beast perked up and captured every word. Freya reached out to stroke the soft nose of the black dragon when it flew.

Right at her.

The giant claws scooped her up, cradling her arms in each strong grasp. Freya yelped in fear, and the dragon seemed to…chuckle?

"Woah! Set me down!" Freya screeched, but the dragon didn't listen. Instead, he quickly flew away from the abandoned boat. It was as if the dragon had a destination in mind.

So as they flew, Freya slowly began to drift off. The slow flaps of the dragon's wings as he caught a current was her lullaby to a better world.