I apologize for the lack of updates lately. I have three stories in the works, but can’t seem to get them done. Here’s an odd little concept that’s been bouncing around in my head for while though.
The Chosen One. It was said that a woman child would be chosen by the goddess to defeat the demon, a woman that would be the demon’s polar opposite. It was said that she, herself, would be a dichotomy. She would be born with hair the scarlet of flames and eyes the color of ice, she would be gentle and compassionate but deadly in battle, small and weak but strong and deadly.
Thasrie shifted in her saddle. Eighteen years of non-stop training. All the signs had pointed to her, all the efforts of her people had been poured into her and now was the time. Chaste and pure as the virgin snow, her life had been dedicated to knowledge and comabat. She had won the Underblade armor; gleaming steel armor forged by forgotten dwarves. She had retrieved the Waveripper blade; a sword forged by the sirens of the north sea. And with it all, she carried the hopes and dreams of her people.
Below her, the demon and its army tore into their forces. Soldiers from her own kingdom fought side by side with the northern barbarians; savages known for their viciousness in battle and ability to sail through the most harsh seas.
The demon, fifteen feet tall and burning with the fires of the fifteen hells, lashed out at the soldiers with its blackened iron sword. Their armor was useless, it crumpled before the beast’s onslaught. Men were scattered like so many leaves before the typhoon of the monster. As the body-count grew, Thasrie tapped her horse in the haunches, urging it forward.
“It’s time for this evil to fall,” she announced to her comrade.
On her left, the Knight Captain Chelter nodded. He had been her constant companion throughout her life; training her, educating her and protecting her. He was tall, quiet and stunningly handsome. A true noble knight, his only goals were honor and duty.
Drawing her blade, The Chosen One lowered the visor on her helmet and they charged into the battle. The Waveripper blade tore through the loose hides that the ogre soldiers wore, one after another they fell before the woman and Knight Captain. As she cut a swath through the beasts to their demon leader, the young woman managed to see more movement out of the corner of her eye.
Turning, she saw a barbarian woman likewise charging toward the demon. Her people where not known for their equestrian skills, but she guided the massive warhorse expertly. Buxom with child-bearing hips, the large woman was filthy and her long blond hair was twisted in knots. She wore the simple leather armor of her people and brandished a massive great-sword common to the barbarian warriors. She charged past some ogres and mowed down others, her target being the demon in the center of the fray.
Thasrie smiled. The poor woman. She was overcome with the bravado of her people and would be cut down just as the soldiers had been.
Driving forward, Thasrie and her companion continued slicing through the wall of ogres. One after another collapsed under the blade until the demon was in sight … and the barbarian woman!
Hopping onto her destrier’s saddle, the filthy woman with her chipped sword held the reins as the demon swung at her. At the last moment, she jumped. Clearing the attack, she brought her own massive sword around. With a Valkyrie scream, she cut through the neck of the beast, sending its head flying as she tumbled to the ground herself.
Dead? The demon’s body collapsed and quivered in the stunned silence of everyone on the battlefield. It … it was dead.
But it couldn’t have been! The barbarian wasn’t the Chosen One. She … she was just a filthy savage! Probably not even a virgin!
As the woman stood up and dusted herself, Thasrie approached her, “How … how did you ..?”
“Chopped ‘is ‘ead off din’t I?” the woman chuckled.
As the Knight Captain next to her dismounted, Thasrie lifted her visor in confusion, “But nobody but the Chosen One could kill it,” she said in a stunned mumble. “I … the goddess picked me.”
Watching the Knight Captain take off his helmet, the barbarian woman snickered, “‘ell princess, yer goddess,” she turned and sneered at the young woman, “was wrong.”
Grabbing the blond man by the collar of his armor, the woman laughed, “Dumb gods, always talkin’ crap. No good ta anyone.”
“What … now?” the dumbfounded Thasrie stammered as the ogres quietly dispersed and the barbarian horde cheered their victory.
Pulling the knight to her, the barbarian woman kissed him roughly on the mouth, “Ya go back ta princessin’. We’re gonna celebrate ain’t we gorgeous?” she smiled at the handsome man.
Turning away and dragging the stunned knight behind her, the barbarian woman laughed, “I’ma be yer goddess ta’night boy. I’ma make ya call me momma.”
The Chosen One could only watch as the filthy savage stole her glory away.