Darien stood before the riftstone. She was equally as tired as she was curious about the day's events. She had managed to secure a clean set of clothes from Ecbal, the innkeeper behind the table, and was at least able to wash away the cyclops's gore from her skin. It had been a bloody long day.

With that, your trial is complete.

She briefly wondered if the voice had anything to do with the cyclops. Surely it was too strange to be coincidence. Darien was far too tired to ponder, further.

You are the Arisen in truth, proven beyond any doubt.

She stayed silent.

Now, I bid you select a companion for the journey ahead.

"What?"

They shall serve you and you alone, to share in your hardships and aid you in every endeavor.

Darien frowned and looked down at her feet. A companion. She wrung out her hands and shifted her weight to one foot at a time. It wasn't like there were options laid out before her. She considered her own faults; she was impatient, graceless, and, when she was afraid, reckless. She had spent all of her life seeing the same faces and doing the same routines. If Darien were to be partnered with someone, she'd prefer someone who could adjust and overcome unfamiliar obstacles.

She shrugged her shoulders and placed her palm flat against the rifstone. Beside it, the portal flowered. Darien stepped back. A pawn fell from the mist, temporarily obscured by the darkness. She stood and raised her right hand, saluting the same scar that Rook had shown before.

Darien looked her over. This was her "companion?" She had thick, brown hair, slightly shorter than Quina's and parted in the middle with short, wispy bangs. Her features were sharp, with pale skin and freckles dotting the ridge of her nose. One of her eyes was light hazel, and the other, blue. They had the same dullness that Rook and the other pawns had. Whereas Darien was stout, and hardly feminine, the pawn was tall and slender. Her emotionless face was void of any age lines. The pawn wore plain, white breeches, leather shoes, and a long brown tunic, belted at the waist. She was armed as well, with two rustic daggers and a bow strapped to her back.

The pawn knelt. Darien opened her mouth and paused. She turned, finally noticing the crowd behind her.

Rook was one among the pawns. He knelt and lifted his face to her. "Our fealty is sworn to you, Arisen. From this day, the legions men called "pawns" live and die by your command."

Like a ripple, the rest went to their knees and bowed their heads. They were all armed. Darien could see swords and shields, bows and daggers, and staffs. They came in different shapes, sizes, colors, and features. But when they quietly lifted their faces to her, the eyes all held the same coldness. Darien could do naught but stand before them, equally as silent. As if they had rehearsed her "orientation," they all stood and slowly filed out of the tent. All except for Rook and…

"Arisen,"

Darien looked at her pawn. Her pawn…strange, she thought.

"Hello," Darien said, lamely.

"I am honored to serve you."

Well, she seems friendly. Darien let her eyes trace the pawn's face. She seemed genuine, but other than that…nothing. When the pawn spoke, she faced her directly and stood up straight, shoulders pulled back slightly like a soldier. Darien guessed that was what she was, in a sense.

"And," Darien said, "You're my pawn?"

"Yes, Master."

Darien shook her head. This was all too much. "What's your name?"

"I haven't one."

"You don't have a name?" Darien cleared her throat and lowered her voice. "Am I supposed to give you one?"

"If that is what you wish, Master," she said. "A name would make things easier for you, methinks."

Darien stared at her. Were all pawns so…selflessly and uncaringly devoted?

"Any…preference?" Darien said, shakily.

The pawn stared back at her with the slightest tilt of her head. "No."

Darien laughed. What a damn, long day. "Alright," she said, turning. "I'll think of one for you."

Darien walked out of the tent and titled her head back to look at the sky. She filled her lungs and exhaled slowly. The pawn came to her side, looked at her, and then up to the sky as if trying to see the same thing she did. It was so odd.

She didn't know why, but she was suddenly reminded of a story. Most of the plot was lost to her, and the only memory she really had of it were the two characters. It had endured in her daydreams and imagination throughout her life. The tale had aught to do with a warrior and a saint.

"I've thought of one." Darien said, catching the other's attention. "I've always like the name...Zillah." She looked away, suddenly feeling self-conscious, and scratched the back of her neck. "Ah, I don't know. It's from a story I heard in my childhood. Zillah was…a great person. Someone…the knight could rely on."

Darien shook her head as if to dismiss her embarrassment, and faced the pawn. "I can think of something else if you don't care for it."

The strider smiled and bowed. "This pawn would be honored to carry a name of importance to the Arisen. Zillah," she said, practicing it on her tongue. "Tis a fine name."

Darien cleared her throat. She was glad to be done with that. Being an Arisen was still a foreign idea to her – she still considered herself a fisher. Of Cassardis. On some days, a goblin-slayer or saurian bait.

"A master and her pawn, is it?"

Darien turned toward the soldier. She hadn't noticed him approach her. He wore the typical, Gran Soren armor with the Duke's crest pinned to the right hand of his chest.

And he had called her an Arisen, as well. She briefly wondered if her expressionless companion gave him the idea.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"You'll be quite the force, come the day you learn to fight as one," he said. "Mind you, that's a skill better honed in practice than in the heat of mortal combat. I can help you in that regard, should you wish it."

Darien stared at him, and then spun around until she found Rook. She threw her arm over his shoulder and smiled at the soldier.

"Well, we did slay a cyclops." she said, suddenly remembering.

The soldier blinked. "Aye, but it was half-dead before you and your pawn joined the battle."

Darien deflated, releasing Rook from her half-hug. "Did it look half-dead to you?" she asked the mage.

"I do believe so, Master." He didn't seem to share Darien's disappointment.

Just a Cassardis fisher. Remember.

"You…mentioned practice?"

Darien was briefly reminded of a childhood memory. Valmiro had gone missing for a full day, and Darien had decided it was her "duty" to find him. He was always losing himself to his fantasies, and normally paid for it with scratches and bruises. Darien didn't share his wonder, but was equally impulsive. He would allow his daydreams to put him in danger. She would allow her "honor" to put herself in danger. At least, that was what Quina had told them one evening after they both had fallen down Cassardis's well, and had to be fished out by the adults.

Darien didn't know why she was reminiscing about her childhood. Perhaps now she understood what Quina had meant when she had called her "reckless." True, Darien didn't know what she was planning to do. She had just wanted to spend a day or two at the encampment to find answers, perhaps to rid of Rook. But now she was being scolded by a soldier about the openings she allowed when she fought his "army of scarecrows." Which was odd, because she could have sworn she was…winning.

What in Maker's breath was she training for? Darien wasn't one to plan ahead, but she always considered her life connected to Cassardis…It still was, right?

"Focus!" the soldier, Ser Berne, shouted.

Darien brought her shield up to her chin. The scarecrow stared her down. Mocking her. Damn it all. She swung her sword down the scarecrow's torso, leaving a deep slash. From the corner of her eye, she saw Zillah dash up to another "enemy." She was fast, and although her daggers left a shallower wound than Darien's attacks, the pawn left multiple scars. Rook, of course, was flat out torching Ser Berne's scarecrows to the ground, but the soldier didn't seem to mind.

Besides, his next 'training' for Darien's group was to move crates. Crates. He claimed it was to build teamwork and efficiency, but Darien thought it was an excuse to have them move equipment. Her pawns seem eager enough for the task, however, so she bit her tongue.

Darien dropped herself onto the bedroll. It was hardly any softer than the ground itself, but she welcomed the slight cushion against her back. She kicked off her shoes and stretched her legs out. Darien let her left hand lay on her stomach and her other harm across her eyes. It was dim in the shelter, with a couple whickering candles lighting the walls. The soldiers had offered a tent to herself, which she accepted gratefully – and a tad bit awkwardly. Was she the only person unaware of legends about Arisen? They seemed to regard her with a respect that she never earned. Whether or not they believed that, Darien felt odd.

Although, one of the soldiers had limped up to her and held her hands, blessing her name. She hadn't recognized him until Rook reminded her that he was the one who was almost consumed by the cyclops. The realization only embarrassed her.

"Master?" the pawn said.

Darien moved her arm below her eyes and looked sideways. Zillah stood in the tent's entrance, arm holding the door flap from her face. Darien had compared her to a shadow. Quiet, but always there when she turned to her side.

Darien sat up and crossed her legs. "Yes?"

Zillah entered the tent, letting the flap slide down her shoulder and fall behind her. "You seemed distressed."

Darien sniffed. You could say that. "I'm just tired." She looked down at her hands. "And I'm trying to decide what it is I should do. I have so many questions, but for now I…"

Darien lifted her head. Her face was inches from the pawn's, who was now kneeling beside her. She could make out the individual eyelashes and freckles on the other's face.

"If there is aught I can assist you with," Zillah said, "please, do not hesitate to ask."

"Alright," Darien said. "My first request…personal space, please."

Darien watched the pawn inch back. Two inches. "Is that better, Arisen?"

Darien's eyes narrowed and she smiled. "We will work on that tomorrow." She plopped herself backward, keeping her face toward the pawn. "Do you have a place to sleep?"

Zillah sat back, folding her legs beneath her, and rested her hands in her lap. "I do not require sleep, although I am capable of it."

Darien nodded, although she didn't understand. "What will you do while I sleep, then?"

"I was just going to sit here quietly."

"And…what? Watch me sleep?"

"Yes."

Darien took a deep breath. It wasn't nearly as strange coming from a pawn than a…person, but no less uncomfortable. She turned to her side, her back towards Zillah, and closed her eyes. Darien waited for her lethargy to take over, but she couldn't get the image of her pawn's mismatched eyes off her mind. Even without her own heart, Darien breathed the same way, chest rising and falling like it always had. She had to wonder if pawns had hearts. She certainly couldn't hear Zillah breathing behind her.

Darien slowly turned her head, pulling her shoulders with her, and glanced out of the corner of her eyes. Zillah was still there. The pawn lifted her face and her eyes widened slightly with expectation (Darien could only assume).

This was going to be a long night.

Darien awoke to shouting. She sat up slowly, blinking hard the grogginess away. A faded, grey blanket slid from around her shoulders. She wrestled with quilt as she stood and let it fall to her feet. People were definitely screaming outside. Zillah was nowhere to be seen.

Darien grabbed her sword and exited the tent. She guessed it was still early morning from the dull daylight and the crisp air. But the people outside were frantic. She watched a handful of soldiers sprint by her, one stumbling from his knees.

She looked in the direction they came. Movement above the corner of her tent caught her eye.

Her bottom jaw dropped.

The large head of a massive snake towered over her. It hovered over the tree lines, forked tongue whipping in and out the tight maw. The limbless neck was of smooth scales of dull black, with a tan-brown underside. Darien saw the creature reel back, momentarily in shadow. She instinctively threw herself forward as the beast's head shot forward like an arrow. Darien fell flat on her chest, tasting dirt in her mouth. She whipped her face back, seeing the snake rise from destruction of wooden poles and fabric. It shook its head, throwing the tent from itself.

Before Darien could climb to her feet, she spotted another snake rise into her view. She stood and gaped. The beast was a massive creature of four snakes, bound as one into a long, limbless body. The hissing was terrible, overpowering all else. Darien felt frozen to the spot, her sword lead in her hand.

An arrow flew by Darien's ear, lodging into the base of the hydra's neck. She gasped and threw herself sideways, rolling to her feet. The snake (one of them) barely missed her as it dived. Darien felt the impact of its nose hitting the ground. She swung her sword as it withdrew. It barely left a mark, but Darien had felt her blade bite.

"Master!"

Darien kept her eyes forward as Zillah came to her side. She notched an arrow and held fast.

"What serpent grows to such a size?" she shouted.

Darien didn't have time to wonder. "'Tis a hydra! Not now!"

Two of the beast's heads roared, exposing four curved teeth among a mess of razors. Darien and Zillah backed up. There were soldiers that stood their ground, and pawns as well. Rook was at her other side.

The bulk of the beast moved forward, each head moving independently. Darien lunged forward, driving her sword forward. She felt like she was stabbing stone, and she could do naught but step sideways out of her attack as the hide of scales slipped past her. Darien looked up. The four heads snapped at those around her. Their attacks merely bounced off the scales. She rolled away as it slithered forward.

Now that it was past her, she witnessed the massive size and length of the monster. It coiled around the wooden watch tower. The shear ease of which it moved astounded her.

"Get away from there!" someone shouted. There were people up there.

One soldier leapt from the tower. He was snapped between a hydra's jaws in midair. Darien was horrified as the beast swallowed him, and he became naught but the bulge lowering down the elongated neck. Wood groaned and snapped as the hydra constricted, utterly destroying the building. Zillah's arrows bounced off the tail.

"Focus on the wounded head! Cleave it free!"

Darien couldn't trace the voice. True, the middle right head of the hydra had a red stain along its neck. She had no idea how it had happened. Darien could have sworn it moved slower than the rest, but that could have been wishful thinking.

A soldier in a white cloak shoved Darien to her side as another head whipped past them. Zillah grabbed her arm and hauled her back to her feet. Despite all that was happening, Darien very clearly noticed the red wrym embroidery on the pure white cape. The woman glanced back at them before disappearing in the panicked crowd.

"I can rush in and grab hold of its neck," Zillah said, bringing Darien back to the present. "It's risky, but might work!"

She briefly stared at the pawn and recalled their training yesterday. Zillah was more nimble, but Darien's sword held more weight, and could be quite the threat on the ground.

It had happened six years ago, but Darien remembered the event with perfect clarity. Sure, her memory was fairly average; although, she tended to space out and daydream throughout entire conversations, and she could never remember a new name when introduced to someone. But this was different. Darien recalled the weight of the leather helm on her head, just barely too big for her that when she shook, the armor rattled. She remembered the sword – her sword- in her hands, and how she gripped it hard so that it wouldn't drop from her sweaty palms. Chief Adaro stood behind her, armed with his own weapon, sheathed in his right hand.

There were a handful of villagers behind him. Benita, Pablos, Heraldo, Iola, Jaquan, and a few more that were running to see what the commotion was about. She wasn't facing them, but she always imagined that Adaro had kept his eyes on her, ready to jump in at a moment's notice. Prepared for Darien to err or hesitate.

The saurian hissed. It gripped a thick spear in its clawed hand and lowered itself, eyes locked on her. The beast was small, for the average ten feet in height of its kind. She remembered the ridged back and spikes around the neck, resembling a barbarian crown. The scales were dark, but glistened, the creature having just rose from Cassardis's well. Its mouth was opened, revealing rows of razors. The bodies of its kin lay beside it, one hanging half way out of the well, bleeding down the sides into the grass. The other lay dead on its stomach.

Darien remembered the way Iola argued with Adaro. She's too young, and she's going to be killed. Do something!

Adaro hadn't replied. He was with her. He wasn't going to leave her.

The saurian stopped hissing. Darien bent her legs, shoulder-width apart. Someone gasped as the beast lunged.

"Now!"

Darien dodged to the right. The spear rushed by her face, followed by a blur of scales and moss. Before it passed her completely, Darien swung her sword down on the tail. The sound was not unlike one heard when gutting fish, and the beast's hissed anguish. Darien was still on her knees, sword's blade on the ground beside the twitching tail, when the saurian scrambled on all four to the well and disappeared down its depths. It had left the spear behind.

The chief walked past her and stomped on the tail. He looked back at them. "I need volunteers to scout the well. We cannot tolerate such beasts in our town."

A few men raised their hands, agreeing. Darien stood and wiped sweat from her forehead. When she looked up, she noticed the chief looking at her.

"Are you coming, Minnow?"

Darien looked at him. She wasn't smiling, but she felt elevated to the point of giddiness. Her heart thundered in her chest. She adjusted the helm on her head, thinking that it wasn't too big for her.

"Maker, yes." she said.

Darien pointed at the hydra. "I need that head to come for me!" she said.

The pawn look confused. "Are you sure 'tis wise, Master?"

"It isn't," she shouted, waving her hands toward the hydra. "This is definitely a bad idea! Over here!"

She started jumping, flailing her arms. Zillah watched her evenly. Darien had no idea what was going through the pawn's head, but she didn't have time to wonder. She almost felt ridiculous, running about like a fool, considering how many people that thing had already eaten. Zillah stepped in front of Darien. For a moment, she thought that the pawn was trying to stop her until she notched an arrow into her bow and sent flying an arrow, and then another, and another.

The snake whipped its head toward them. Two heads. The remaining ones busy with the poor soldiers.

Zillah stepped aside. "We have its attention!" she said, looking at Darien as if she had just presented her with a gift.

"Wonderful," Darien said, backing up and raising her sword. "Although, I just want one right now."

The hydra bore down on them. Zillah moved away from Darien, shooing arrows at the closest head. Its tongue lashed out and it reeled back. Before she could utter a word, Darien watched the beast dive toward the pawn, throwing up dust and dirt.

Darien gasped and went to step forward, but froze at the roaring hiss above her. The snake was over her, muscles rippling beneath the scales, tense. It had moved considerably faster than any saurian had. Darien faced it. Zillah would have to wait. She put her arms out and gripped her sword hard.

It was just her and the hydra – and really only a quarter of it.

"Arisen!"

Darien threw herself sideways. The side of her arm burned from the wave of scales and it spun her. She carried the momentum of her turn and brought the sword up. For a heartbeat, she held it above the neck of the hydra. Darien brought the sword down with all her might. Then she wrenched it free and brought it down again. Her sword went deep.

The neck jerked up, throwing Darien back and the head into the air. It landed hard on the ground, turning the earth beneath it red. It took Darien a moment for her to realize that she was looking at the sky. And then Zillah's face. Her hair fell around Darien's vision.

"Are you unharmed, Master?" she asked.

Darien gaped at her. "Are you?" Zillah took her hand and helped her to her feet. "I thought the hydra…"

"Not this day, Arisen."

Speaking of…Darien walked by the pawn towards the hydra's decapitated head. The beast's retreat was so sudden. Darien tried to catch her breath as the last of the tail disappeared into the wilderness. How could such a thing be left to –

The disembodied head roared. Darien spun around. She blinked against the splatters of salvia, as well as a foul stench of breath. The cry faded into a sigh as the last of its life faded. A red symbol appeared on the top of the head before fading entirely. Darien felt like her heart had stopped…wait.

She looked up from the head. A group of soldiers stood on the other side of the corpse, behind one in the white cloak. She was shorter than the others, with short black hair, tan skin, and icy blue eyes. Her silver chest plate had splatters of red across it, but still shone bright. Her white cloak hung regally behind her. Darien guessed she was a captain.

"I am impressed." the soldier said.

The men behind pushed past her and circled the hydra's one head. They chattered excitedly, like children around a new toy.

"This your work?" one soldier asked, gesturing to the corpse. "For truth?"

Darien shrugged. Her legs were stiff, and she didn't want to risk falling over.

The captain approached her, ignoring the distracted soldiers. "Ancient tales of the Arisen are well and good, friend," she said, glancing at the head. "But make a gift of this head to the duke…And you might earn yourself a real title."

Darien smiled, unable to ignore pride swelling in her. She gave a slight, half-bow. "I'm Darien…Of Cassardis."

"Mercedes Marten. I lead the men of the Enlistment Corps." She slowly circled the head. "Arisen, I see better now from whence the legends arose. Good judgment, swift footwork…Impressive, truly."

She appreciated the praise, and Darien didn't have the heart to explain her mad run of luck.

"In any case, the duke will want to know of this attack. I'd hoped to gather a larger force before leaving for the capital…" She looked straight at Darien. "But a hydra's head and the Arisen who claimed it make up the difference amply."

"Me? Go to the capital?" She rubbed her face. "I don't know. 'Tis sudden."

"Pray, think on it," Mercedes said. "We shall depart in three days. 'Twill be slow going with a cart. Should you change your mind, I daresay you'll have no trouble catching up."

Darien stayed in the same spot while the knight turned her attention to nearby soldiers, barking orders at them.

"What will you do, Master?" Zillah asked.

"First," Darien said, "Let me lean on you." She held the pawn's left shoulder, and Zillah seemed more than happy to lend her aid.

"You should rest."

Darien laughed. "I just woke up." She looked around, a thought coming to her. "Where's Rook?"

"The hydra devoured him midway the battle."

Darien stared up at her. The pawn had said it so casually that it made her wonder if she was joking. How had she missed that? How could Zillah be so…. Darien ignored the lightness in her head and unslung her arm from around the pawn, suddenly losing all her enthusiasm.

I really enjoyed fighting the hydra for the first time, but I was horrified when it ate one of my pawns (what a way to go). I ended up rewriting the fight scene because...I can't see Darien trying to climb it like with the cyclops. The first boss was slow and clumsy - a hydra is way more intimidating (it has four freakin' heads.) I also included the flashback with the saurian to, hopefully, show how she was able to cleave the hydra's head (the whole "dodge and slice" technique). There are naturally skilled and fearless Arisen in the world, but Darien is not one of them. She gets scared and has to struggle through these fights to survive.

I want to send a big "Thank You" to Bombsoldier, who reviewed the first two chapters of my story. I am mainly writing this fanfiction for my own enjoyment (love writing and Dragon's Dogma), but it is really encouraging to know that someone out there is reading it. So thanks!