Tempest and Rebecca have been married for over 50 years now, and everybody knows that they are happy. You could almost call their marriage a fairytale marriage – but what about when disaster strikes Trivadia? What would happen if, by some horrible twist of fate, Tempest and Rebecca were separated? Would their love win over everything else? These stories chronicle Tempest and Rebecca's trials as they strive to find each other again… These are the Soul Chronicles…
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This chronicle is told from Rebecca Angelheart's point of view.
It all started with a massive, destructive storm. This was no regular storm, as Tempest and I found out moments after it struck the castle. This was a Dimension Storm – a storm that literally tore through dimensions and dumped people, animals and monsters from different dimensions into whatever dimension it hit next. Did you think that demons like Ranklar were native to Trivadia? Oh no, not at all. A Dimensional Storm dumped him here a few centuries ago. But that's straying from the point.
"What the hell is that?!" Tempest exclaimed, staring at the large crimson bolts of lightning that struck the city, causing sever damage and killing many innocent people. I'm pretty sure that I saw an ogre in one of the many small tornadoes that were tearing through the city (ogres had been extinct on Trivadia for around 800 years – the dragons got angry with them and destroyed them all). I felt the blood drain from my face as the storm approached.
"Quickly! Hold on to something!" I said, grabbing the edge of the windowsill and holding on with all of my Amazonian strength.
"Why?"
Oh, I don't know! Maybe because we're about to be tossed into another dimension! Of course, I never got the chance to say that, because the next second, the storm hit.
I was too busy admiring the blackness that overcame me to complain about it, though.
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I woke up in…a prison cell. Well, that figured. Chances were that I was unlucky enough to have landed with a bunch of oversexed males who could only reproduce by kidnapping and then forcing themselves onto women.
I hate it when I'm right about these things.
"Hey! She's awake!"
"Good! Get the chief! He's been waiting for a mate!"
I got pissed right then and there.
I stood up and looked around. Hmm…bamboo cage with two large men guarding me.
I'd had worse odds, so I simply tore the 'bars' apart with my bare hands, rammed my elbows into the men's ribcages, smirking when I heard the telltale sound of ribs breaking. I grabbed their weapons – two large spears made from iron. So, they had evolved enough to know how to forge iron weapons! Good for them!
Unfortunately they had never met a pissed-off Amazon.
They were about to, and they were going to regret it.
The men had no idea that a 'mere female' could be so strong. Of course, they had always picked on the weak-looking women with the great figures.
I admit that I'm beautiful and desirable, but I am in no way weak.
CCCCCRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAACK!!
Oh look, there goes another sword! Iron, such a weak, breakable ore. So far, I had only received a slight scratch from an arrow that skimmed my shoulder. I easily ignored the wound and continued my little rampage. Of course, I had yet to find my own sword, but that could wait until I had found this 'chief' and ripped his lungs out. Or maybe I would just give him an involuntary sex change – without the use of either painkillers or any kind of blade (I'm strong enough to punch a hole in titanium, so you can imagine what I could do to male, I mean, human flesh.)
I stopped and stared at the 8-foot man in a loincloth. He was holding my sword! I wasn't worried, and simply smiled as the group of males surrounded us, forming a ring for combat.
This was going to be highly entertaining – oh, but I can be such a sadistic little bitch when I feel like it. As he came at me, my silver-bladed sword raised high in both of his hands (I just couldn't figure out why he held it in both hands. Despite being 5-feet tall, my sword, the Angelheart Blade, was very light – but very, very sharp: it could cut through just about anything), I just stood there passively and watched him charging, a rather disturbing smile spreading across my lips as he came near me, and brought the sword down in a vicious swing…only to scream in agony as his body was engulfed in white fire. The blade dropped to the ground, and I calmly walked over and picked it up as the 'chief's' body eventually turned into grey ash. The silver sheath had survived the inferno, so I simply picked it up, sheathed my sword and strapped it across my back where it belonged. When I looked up, all of the males, all of them had run away. I smiled again.
You see, my sword is no ordinary sword. It's an enchanted blade that actually recognises its owner – meaning that the Angelheart Blade can't be used against me – or any member of my family. If somebody does try to harm me (or my family) with the magical blade, they are instantly engulfed in white flames and reduced to grey ash.
See? I told you that I could be a sadistic little bitch when I felt like it.
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I calmly found my way out of the village (the men didn't bother to offer me directions – how rude!) and blinked. I recognised Morder, and sighed.
I was in Middle Earth, but it seemed that I wasn't the only person here from another dimension.
"Hi Lina!"
The sorceress from the Slayers universe took one look at me and paled. "Uh, hello, Rebecca," she said nervously.
Thus began my journey to find a way out of Middle Earth – with Lina Inverse.
End of Chronicle One