Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[cganya]

"My name is Anya. I'm the last of the Snowdrifters... But who am I really?"

"My teacher taught me to ask myself that question every day."

Standing atop the high walls of her fort-like school of war, Anya looks over the vast army that approaches her home, her friends and her students.

Anya closes her eyes for a moment and opens them slowly. She stands alone before the army. It is an endless wall of shields, weapons and bloodthirsty faces. She holds a halberd in her hands without fear. The weapon feels weightless in her hands, her hands moving effortlessly over the master craftsmanship of the shaft.

The lone combatant eyes the endless ranks of her enemies and sizes them up. Her blood begins to pump harder as she grows excited with anticipation. her long, sharp ears pick up the sounds of a chorus of signal horns telling the great war machine before her to lurch into action.

Without hesitation Anya charges into the ranks before her. Knocking any who fail to move out of her way to the ground and slicing down anyone else who fails to leave the arc of her mighty weapon. The soldiers’ weapons and shields crumbling under the might of Anya's blows. They are no match against Anya's halberd, made by her most gifted students of the armoury, and her decades of experience fighting for her life.

For hours Anya fights and slaughters her enemies without error or hesitation but their numbers seem to never decrease. The ground slowly turns into a sea of blood stained grass between clustered islands of the dead and dying.

Eventually the soldiers manage to land a small victory against the lone fighter. A slice along her arm shows them that they fight a mortal enemy after all. Anya's blood falls to the ground to mingle with the blood of the fallen and the soldiers see that it is no different.

Any brief thoughts of victory the closest soldiers had quickly evaporate as Anya never pauses her onslaught. "You think your little scratch will slow me down?!" She bellows.

"I can't even feel it. It will heal before I slay the five thousand men behind you. It will be forgotten before I slay the five thousand men behind them! If you want any chance to live then run! There is no hope for all who face me for I am Anya! I am the Battle Master!"

Anya closes her eyes again. Slowly opening them she watches as the distant army marches on still towards her home, her friends and her students. "Is that how I will protect my school? Is that really who I am?"

To be continued!

----------------
This is intended to be a collection of short (very short) little stories that together will be one short story (how contrived and unnecessarily confusing). This story features the original inspiration for my pen-name "CGAnya" in some part of her life's story that I'll never manage to put on paper fully (hopefully I am wrong). I'd love to hear what people here think and who they really think Anya is as we go along. Its not a normal question, it has many answers that can be true.

[Keita]

Very nice, I like it!

Definatly watching this, I'll answer some of those over arching questions when I gets a little more information but at the moment she appears to be some sort of sage in the art of 'one man army'.

[cganya]

The wind catches Anya's cloak and hair, causing them to billow majestically as she continued to watch the approaching army in the distance. The army still had at least a full day's travel before the fight would begin. "But what if the battle did not have to take place here?" Anya thought to herself.

Certainly taking on this vast force would be easier on Anya force's familiar ground. But the aid she had sent for would never make it in time and there was too great a chance of her school being overwhelmed.

Anya takes in the view of the wide open plains before her and closes her eyes again. "Who am I?" She asks slowly as she thinks carefully. When she opens them again she is alone, dressed in a light-weight but formal set of armor and carrying a flag pole adorned with a symbol for parlay.

With confidence and conviction Anya walked to meet the army that had arrived at her school. Her school was known through the region as a source of the highest quality mercenaries. Even a few of her students could drastically change the tide of a battle.

Hoping that the leader of this overwhelming force was aiming to either enlist the help of her students or to secure their non-involvement in it's upcoming battles; Anya faced the now stopped wall of soldiers with patience. Soon a tall figure emerged, A mighty man adorned with imposing spiked and bladed armor.

"We move towards the city of Greatwall and will conquer it within two weeks time. Your school has routinely changed the course of many wars towards the side of the righteous. My goals are not righteous in the eyes of the weak-minded southern countries. Northern rule is extreme but fair and I have united all the warring tribes and clans together. Even the cruel wolfmen who, as I'm sure you know, were responsible for eradicating all but one last Snowdrifter. Will you stand with my target against me as you have against so many before me? Or will you protect your beloved school at the cost of your high morals?" shouted the northern warlord for all to hear.

"My school has never been one to side with those who will fail, mighty northern warlord." Responded Anya as she stood tall and proud. "I have always taught my students to fight for victory first and then for their ideals because it is the victor who decides what is right and what is wrong. You value strength over any lofty ideals, as long as that strength bows to you and your ways."

Anya pauses to look along the wide and vast army that dwarfs her school easily. "Do not think me a fool northerner. To oppose a foe so impressive would be the end of my school and my students. I hold no attachment to my old Snowdrifter Clan. My school is the only clan I need now. It is no doubt that the southern nations will fall, starting with Greatwall. Let my students and I join you and ensure your victory all the more assuredly!"

"Interesting direction you wish to move in Snowdrifter." Replied the northern warlord suspiciously. "Many of your students come from the cities I have crushed and the rest come from cities I will crush soon. Will they not fight your decision?" Asked the imposing man as he glanced to the walls of the school, lined with the curious and concerned students of Anya's school.

"They will learn to adapt to your northern ways and flourish. I have taught them to make the best of their situations. Clinging to the old ways of the south will see them soon dead. Why die when within years they can be the most prized warriors in the strongest nation the south has ever seen? As I said, we fight with the side that will win for there is no glory or victory in death!" Anya replied boldly.

"Very true and wise Snowdrifter. Surely your many years and battles have taught you how to survive more than the battle at hand. But how do I know that my back is safe from your blade? Victory is not always won on the battle field and I dare not expose myself to a quick end at you or your student's hands." Replied the warlord, intrigued by Anya's offer.

"The put us as far from your backside as you wish, we can march along with your front line if it makes you feel safer. what better defense than a sea of soldiers? Besides my students will learn nothing if they are to languish away from the fighting." Anya offered with a smile.

The mighty warlord pondered this opportunity for a moment, looking for an oversight on his part. After many quiet moments he chooses his reply. "Anya the last Snowdrifter. I accept your offer. You and your school will join my army and unite the southern lands under my banner. But if I think for a moment that you are up to something, I will crush your students as easily as every other nation that stands in my way."

And so Anya's students reluctantly suited up in their best equipment and join the mighty northern war machine. Deep inside the school Anya gather her things. Pausing too look over a map of the southern lands she traces her finger over the road from her school to Greatwall. Two mountain ranges meet at the road, between them a heavily forested valley lays. The last bottle neck before the great walled city, the largest and most difficult force left to stand against the north.

Anya quickly writes a note on a tiny sheet of parchment with skilled fingers. She seals it with a small signet stamp with her school's emblem on it before turning to two tiny winged figures that had arrived in her study only moments before. The two small fairies look concerned, the news of Anya's decision had spread quickly through the forests.

"Liara, take this note to the fairy courts, to your most benevolent king. He will know then how to protect his people from the march of the northern army." Anya hands the small stamped envelope to the small feminine creature who nods to her quietly and flys off through the open window.

"Swift, you are the fastest and most trusted of my friends, both large and small." Anya said slowly and seriously.

"You have always respected our wishes in regards to the well-being of our domain and have saved our kingdom more than once. You are our most trusted outsider. Why are you joining with these men who care nothing but for dominance?" He replied. His little words no less painful than a dragon's.

"My students and I must weather these changes of politics with grace. You share the sentiments of my students and I hope that in time all will become clear to you. Of all the people this will effect, I hope your people will forgive me. The other nations will either forget or disappear but yours will never do either. Your people while troublesome have always been the first to seek peace and I am doing nothing to stop this war from continuing." Anya sighs deeply. "But I know what I am doing is the right thing."

"I need you to deliver one last message for me, then you shun me for the rest of your long life. Tell the general of Greatwall to assemble his forces along the forest edge of the Twinpeak valley. Tell him to hold that line and to dig a deep trench filled with spikes. He will trust me and this will allow us to capture Greatwall with the least civilian deaths." Anya looks the small but imposing fairy in the eyes with the most confident look she can muster.

"They will never be able to hold back this army will they?" Asked Swift.

"They would need an act of the gods to hold us back for more than an hour and that's just what General Alexander will be expecting me to do." Replied a grinning Anya. "Trust me, this is the best way for the future of the southern nations."

Several days pass as Anya and her students travel at the head of the massive army. They come to a dark but shallow stream that borders the valley forest. Flanked by sheer cliffs and steep hills, the forest would slow the army's moment considerably. The forest would soon contain much of the great army's girth and the sun was falling rapidly.

Scouts rode back through the main force with news of Greatwall's forces assembled at the edge of the forest behind a hastily built fortification. Soon a runner was sent to summon Anya to the warlord's tent.

Anya entered the grand tent and saw the warlord sitting atop a tall wooden throne. "What a pleasant surprise to find my most difficult battle to come easily averted by my enemy throwing themselves uselessly against my great army." Stated the warlord none too happily.

"The moment someone from the southern nations spots me and my students marching with your army, their trust in me will disappear. I felt it best to use this advantage at least once before it is gone." Replied Anya.

"While it is true that their position is suicide against my army, even if your students decided to pick this time to betray me... It was not my plan and so I do not trust it. Tell me why should I risk keeping you and them alive when already you are doing things behind my back." Asked the warlord with a hint of anger in his voice.

Huddled around a campfire, groups of Anya's students discuss amongst themselves. The forest seemed so quiet to those who had bothered to look for the animals that normally filled this forest. even the stream had seemed empty of life. At least it had still been its bright and clear self. They continued to try and raise each-others spirits, telling each other to trust in Anya's judgment for she was older than she seemed and much wiser than most warriors one would ever meet.

Above the forest near the mountain stream that fed into the forest's border. Several stealthy students prepared their torches. several days spent secreting bladders of oil to the high location were coming to an end. The normally bright stream had been slowly fed oil and in the last couple hours the majority of the oil had been poured. "Anya asked us, her most advanced scouts and spies to trust her. We have done so without fail or blunder. Raise your torches in the memory of this great forest but do not hesitate in our mission." The lead scouting student raises his torch high. "This act will be most terrible and crude but the  south shall prosper because of our sacrifice today. Do not hesitate. Disappear and return to the school when the time is right." With that, the students toss their torches into the oil filled water and vanish into the night.

"I would not dream of offending you great warlord. You may be suspicious of me and my actions but take solace in the fact that I am Anya, I am the Greatest Tactician in the southern lands. Your future, like mine, is most certainly bright." With that Anya bowed deeply.

The forest's border stream erupts in a cascade of flames. trees nearest to the stream catch fire. The deadly flames, fanned by the steady wind, spread quickly into the forest. the tail of the army is quickly cut off from the main body by a wall of fire while those trapped in the forest begin to panic and run for their lives.

"Very well, you are dismissed for now Snowdrifter. Be sure to pass your plans by me first in the future, if you value your life." Replied the warlord as he tries to find any hidden meanings in Anya's words.

Anya Turns to leave the tent. Outside she feels the heat on the wind of her plan coming to fruition. the heat is oppressive and she takes off her heavy cloak and drops it on the ground. Before the screams of panic and light of the fires can approach the warlord's tent, Anya breaks off in a sprint that her cheetahmen clan would have been proud of. She wouldn't want to tell her students the good news too late.

Anya closes her eyes as she feels the heat of the air leave her, replaced with the fresh winds of the open plains. She opens her eyes again and ponders the slowly approaching army. Is that how I will protect the southern lands? Is that really who I am?

To Be Continued
----------------

This one is considerably longer than the first. I hope it was entertaining. I don't imagine it is all that clever. It was written in one sitting after all (and its way past my bed time.) I may not have all my facts right, I assume one could light a stream like that on fire if they had enough oil. If there are any plot holes, please let me know, I don't mind criticism.

[chaoticag]

Need to keep an eye on this too. Well, as soon as I have less reading to do.

[Keita]

This is fantasy, you can do whatev er you want with explaining it XD

Yes, with enough oil that is possible but I'm not to sure on how much it would require as you have to factor in the strength of the water flow, how big and wide the river is as well.

Still liking the story! Makes me want to do my characters story, your writing is very inspirational XD

[cganya]

FAIR WARNING:
This short story segment contains dark concepts. If you are sensitive to concepts of pain, terror or sadness you may want to just skip this one (probably the next one too). This section contains some implied gore but nothing specifically graphic.




You were warned!
----------------------------
Anya watches the seemingly endless northern army continue to march on. She runs her hand through her long blood red hair. A lock of her hair crosses her view and reminds her of her old memories.

"I was born a Snowdrifter but I truly grew up with two different families." Anya thinks to herself as she closes her eyes again.

A short wolf-man drags a shaking and weakened girl through the snow. Her skin is nearly as white as the snow that flutters down all around her. Her ears, long and sharp, betray her elven heritage.

The girl trembles, not out of fear or pain but because she cannot stop. She had managed the impossible and survived the trials of the nightmare poison. Her cruel captors had thought to punish her with the rare brew, with one dose in her gruel she fell into a deep, unbreakable sleep. Her sleep however did not free her from her oppressive surroundings. Endless nightmares of torture and pain slurred into each other, never ending. Every time she perished from her wounds in her dreams, she would slip into a new terror. Every source of pain she had ever known was exploited by the vile poison; every cut and bruise that had fueled her instinctive fears was magnified a million times in her nightmares.

Sickening images passed through the girls mind as she slowly roused from her sleep, every one failing to elicit a mental response though her body remembers the motions and twitches as it remembers every torn muscle and flaying of flesh.

Finally tired of the girls screams the wolf-men had decided to add her to their macabre display of warnings along the edge of their domain. Even when the girl's screams stopped the wolf-men decided they had no use for an assuredly shattered mind like hers.

With a casual lack of concern for the confused mumblings of the young girl, the short wolf-man tied her arms and legs to a wooden frame. The girl starred blankly past the wolf-man into the dark gathering of clouds above him. With the girl secure, the short wolf-man raised the frame to match the dozens of others, adorned with various corpses and skeletons.

The storm grew and soon the light snowfall turned to a blizzard. The blizzard grew fierce and violent, raining down hail and sharp shards of ice. The storm plowed through the frames, smashing them with ease. Among the rubble of the broken frames, the young child stirred. Her broken and shattered body seemed to only slow her as she clumsily rose to her feet. Shambling into the seemingly featureless frozen wasteland like a living corpse, the little girl searched for aid.

Her mind was raw from the nightmares, her broken bones and open wounds failed to even register in her mind. She longed only to find her family, her parents and her home. She had not forgotten that the wolf-men attacked and killed many of her clan but she hoped beyond all that there was still someone else left. After what seemed like days of wandering, unable to find or catch food the girl's good leg gave way. Soundlessly she fell to the ground, unable to understand why she could not get back up. All she could do was hope to stay wake a little longer, she was feeling so tired but terrified to sleep again.

A short while after the girl succumbs to sleep again, a tall figure approaches the body in the snow. The man kneels to inspect the frozen girl. The man looked over the girl with pity, his yellow fur dotted with black spots fluttering in the harsh northern wind. The traveler gasped with shock as he discovered the tragic looking girl still breathed softly. Surely she was a frozen corpse, even a stout warrior would fall to the same wounds and shattered bones.

"If you cling to life so defiantly, I will bring you to my people and we will do what we can to help you." With that, the traveler lifted the small girl and carried her south.

In the weeks that it took the traveler to return to his tribe he cared for the girl. feeding her and binding her wounds. While her body slowly healed she would not wake. Her skin formed terrible scars and her shattered and broken bones healed in place. The little girl was so disfigured and broken that the traveler wondered if she would wish to continue living when she woke.

The young girl was presented to the wisest of the tribal leaders. Talented shamen and healers tried their best to help the alien looking young girl. Her skin being so white, her hair so black and her ears so long; was all the elder healers could agree on. The rest was a mystery buried beneath layers of deep scars and mangled bones. No decision could be made as to how to mend her body or even if it could be done.

The elders may not have been able to agree on what to do but one young cheetah-woman approached and asked for the task to restore their charge. The elders looked at the girl with fear and disdain. She controlled a wild and powerful magic. She could bend flesh to her will like it was an extension of herself but such mendings were never pleasant for either healer nor healed. The manipulation of flesh always felt unnatural at best and extremely painful at worst.

"None of you can mend those bones, none of you can restore her skin like I can. Allow me to mend her and prove myself and my talents!" She argued. Seeing no feasible alternative, one by one the elders agreed. Soon after the girl was moved to a large room and the young wielder of magic approached the disfigured girl. "My name is Red Rose and I will fix your shattered body, little one." With that Red Rose went to work.

Green shimmers of light arced across Red Rose's arms as she stroked and worked Anya's damaged limbs. The process was slow and taxing on the young cheetah-woman. Her elders watched on for hours as the young mender reformed bone and flesh seamlessly. But as the hours waned on the green lights grew stronger and more sporadic. The young mender delved deeper with her magic, feeling her way through every broken bone and muscle. Anya's body was a labyrinth of damaged tissue and broken bones.

Several hours into the treatment, the mender began to falter. determined not to stop until she was done though she pressed on. Her mind slipping while the light arced between herself and her patient. Every minute that ticked by brought the cheetah-woman closer to losing herself in the little girl's body. Snow white skin begun to grow yellow fur with black dots. Long black hair turned blood red to match the healer's hair. Black eyes shifted green and a tail formed before the mender finished erasing scars and fractures.

By this time the elders began to urge the young cheetah-woman to stop. The little girl's body while altered was whole again. But Red Rose would not stop, she reached deeper into the girl's body, mending what she could of Anya's mind. Deeper and deeper she ventured, approaching what appeared in her mind's eye to be how the girl once looked but covered in a black tar that was eating away at her.

The young girl screamed for help as she struggled with the blackness. Red Rose pulled at the tar and peeled it away bit by bit but there was so much that it threatened to swallow the little girl.

"Please help me Red Rose!" The girl cried with fear as she struggled.

"Don't let go, I will help you!" Shouted the young cheetah-woman back.

Exhaustion began to set in as the elders huddled around the young mender. Her magical energies pulsing and twisting violently as she worked steadily, seemingly in a trance. In her mind she was pulling as hard as she could to free the little girl. Suddenly the tar gave way and Red Rose pulled Anya free of it's suffocating grasp. Exhausted, Red Rose kneeled and hugged the little girl tightly. Nuzzling her with her muzzle while her body shook. Their minds had touched and overlapped slightly and in that small touch Red Rose had learned of Anya's clan's fate, the wolf-men and the nightmares. How Anya had ever survived any of it with her mind so intact she could never know. All she knew is that now this sweet little girl was free of it, she would raise her as her own.

There was still many stains left from the tar on the little girl's image but with time and patience they could be mended away too. Red Rose stood to return to the material world with a smile across her face. Anya smiled back at her too, feeling the happiest and safest she had in so very long. But the tar quickly returned.

The tar grabbed with incredible speed and strength Red Rose pulling her to the ground. Anya grabbed the young mender's spectral hand and pulled with all her might. But there was no strength left in her. Screaming in desperation Red Rose struggled to break free but the tar broke her grasp and dragged Red Rose away into the depths of Anya's soul. Anya's inner child slumped to the ground and screamed her tears out for she was alone again after feeling so safe once more.

In the material world Red Rose collapsed suddenly, the pulsing green energy around her gone. When shook she would not wake though she still breathed laboriously.

A day passed and Anya awoke to a strange new world filled with sensations and colors she had never experienced before but Red Rose would remain unconscious. Elders tended to her but eventually they would fail to ever rouse her. Instead they turned their attention to the young child they had no parent for. The tribe would raise her but she was never quite the same as they were.

Opening her eyes again Anya wipes the tears from her eyes. She looks at her hands with mixed feelings of rage and sadness. She could feel her second mother's soul lost deep inside her still. Red Rose had given Anya everything she had and lost herself in the process. Clenching her fist intently, green arcs of energy trickled up along her arm. She had inherited more than her fur from Red Rose.

"Perhaps my second mother can help me again in my greatest time of need." Anya said to herself as she thought of using the flesh weaving magic in ways that she was sure Red Rose never dared consider.

"I am Anya I am the Flesh Weaver. As long as my foes can bleed they will bend to my will." Anya growled with a deep hidden anger.

Anya closed her eyes and thought. "Is this how I will honor Red Rose? Is this who I really am?"

To Be Continued
----------------
I don't know about you but I felt something when I was writing about Anya trying to free Red Rose from the tar and failing.

Originally I had wanted to do something different with this chapter but Anya's past was just too large to not be it's own chapter. I think her final thoughts in this chapter will work well with the next chapter.

Sometime I worry that Anya's past is too tragic or too unreasonable/ improbable. That it starts to approach the lands of "silly too much". Anya is to me though an epic character for her to have an unrelenting and near limitless willpower, I felt she needed to have experienced something equally brutal and horrifying so that she could overcome that burden and shine as a greater person for it. I guess kinda like batman?

As for improbable and unreasonable. I do have excuses, as thin or thick as they may be. for that I'll go "hey, its fantasy, it will make more sense when I finish it and you know all the details."

edit- oh yeah I forgot to add this before I posted, I thought it was funny: I'm the mother fucking Last Snowdrifter!

[Keita]

Damn.

Just.

Damn.

A bit of tradagy is good and I feel you've managed to walk the line but not over step the boundary, very well done.

[cganya]

FAIR WARNING AGAIN:
This segment of the story also contains dark subject matter. Where the last chapter was more emotional, this chapter may be a bit more graphic. If you have seen the soul wall thingy in DOOM or the portal to hell in Diablo 2 then that was the effect I was going for. If those things or any other image of a wall of screaming, terror filled faces makes you want the bad memories to go away, maybe you shouldn't read this one.




You were warned!
-----------------
Anya contemplated her arms and hands. She was large for a female of either elven or cheetah-man heritage. Thick muscles and tough skin covered by an unmarred coat of fur, all maintained by Red Rose's gift. In the past She had mostly used this gift to mend herself only using it to help others in rare and dire situations. Once, many years ago, Anya had used her flesh weaving powers to harm rather than mend. When she did so she promised herself to never do so again.

Looking over the ever-nearing army once again. Anya pondered, What if her strength and wit should fail, would she break her promise to herself? Anya closed her eyes again and imagined the battle as it progressed.

Surrounded on all sides by her enemies, Anya was cut off from her students. Disarmed by sheer numbers and facing a difficult situation without a viable escape, Anya quickly surveys her surroundings. The dead and dieing lay beneath the feet of the oncoming soldiers. The enemy leader had outfitted his soldiers with lighter armor so that they could more easily remain mobile, relying on shields for their defense.

Anya concentrated on her targets, the dead and dieing on the ground. With the same green energy arching along her body that Red Rose used so many years before, Anya extended her arms and reached for those who pleaded for aid. Despite the fair distance, the soldiers laying on the ground felt the influence of Anya's powers. Filled with great relief as they felt their wounds close, the soldiers clambered to their feet, grabbing their still standing allies for support.

And that was when the relief of the recently mended and the recently bolstered soldiers turned to horror. Everywhere flesh met flesh, skin, muscle and bone merged. Panic set in as each soldier who had been touched by the fallen also had begun to stick and splice with all they touched. Cries of despair and pain began to be heard over the shouts and noise of battle as the soldiers began to clump together, clumsily stumbling and falling onto those around them who could not push through the endless ranks of soldiers to get away. Those who still held their blades hacked desperately at their once brothers-at-arms in hopes of freeing themselves from the growing mass.

Anya continued to channel her powers along the dead and dieing, spreading the terrible condition to all she could see. The students who had been cutting a path to Anya pulled back as the soldiers they fought steadily became less combative. Their training allowed them to see that for these soldiers who fled there would be no more fighting. Wishing to distance themselves from whatever was causing them to flee their teacher they retreated to a safe vantage point. Perhaps they could watch their teacher and learn from her wisdom once more.

The clumps of soldiers started to take on the forms of growing mounds of quivering flesh. Of the first affected soldiers, nearly nothing could be recognized. Each mound still lived for Anya's flesh weaving skills do not give life or take it away. Each trapped and changed soldier screamed and pleaded in terror as they joined together with each-other. The mounds grew larger; piles of flesh, eyes and screaming mouths devoured those too horrified to run for their lives.

Like Red Rose before her, Anya began to lose herself in the strain of such a massive undertaking. Pushing herself past her previous boundaries to create something of great importance, she reached further and faster than she ever could before.

Anya had, for a brief time, traveled with another person gifted with magic. He called himself Blade Star. He had used his powers to kill nearly every one of his world's people. Though he was being controlled by outsiders at the time, he could remember every city and army he destroyed with his mastery over metal. Rather than blame his controllers for the deaths of all those people, he blamed himself. Anya had never understood why until now. She felt so powerful, everything she did grew easier and easier. The green energy felt so good as it traveled along her body mind and soul. Even though she was surrounded by the agonized screams of thousands she could help not but smile and feel invigorated.

While Blade Star had been directly forced to do what he did to his home-world, Anya did of her own free will against this invading army. Though the army no longer appeared to be invading. Those who could were running for their lives and Anya chased after them earnestly, weaving walls of flesh from the quivering mounds of horror to trap all that she could.

Anya looked back for a moment to look over the school and the students she had saved from the overwhelming army. She could see her army but her students were nowhere to be seen. Chills ran down Anya's spine, has she swept her precious students up along with her enemies? Anya ceased her attack and let the green energy fade, allowing her mind to come back to it's senses. Each of the seemingly infinite screaming mouths sounded so much louder and more terrible suddenly.

Desperately searching the battle field for her students, Anya headed back towards the school. Calling out each of her student's names in turn, each syllable digging a deeper pit in her stomach. Once back at the school she found no-one was left. After a few frantic moments of searching, some of Anya's students come out of hiding. Steadily each of her students showed themselves and gather around Anya. Relieved that her students were safe after all, Anya allowed herself a sigh of relief.

The students suddenly swarmed Anya, striking her from every direction at once. "Has all your talk about bravery and honor been meaningless?" Shouted her students as they wounded their teacher. "When faced with a difficult battle, should we resort to torture and pain rather than quick and efficient death like you taught us?" The students continued as Anya dodged and tried to avoid her skilled student's attacks with great difficulty.

"Why would you do such horrible things to those people?!" Shouted one of Anya's younger students. Anya froze in place as the question struck a deep chord in her mind. It had been the same question she asked a manticore she had defeated early in her adventures. Locally known as the Child Eater, it had been extorting a nearby city. Demanding monthly tributes in the form of live children who were never seen again. When she had tracked the beast down she had seen the malformed skeletons of the children, tortured to death by the horrible creature. Anya confronted the child eater with the same question.

"Because I feed off of their pain, It fills me with wonderful feelings and so much energy. In fact I do believe you and I are very similar." The manticore had replied, it's glowing green eyes seemed to pierce deep into Anya's soul.

"I am nothing like you child eater! I'm no monster!" Anya had replied indignantly.

Anya's students pounced on her sudden halt and cut deeply into her body with their weapons. Any one of their strikes were lethal and if not for Anya's flesh weaving magic still mending her body subconsciously she would have collapsed on the spot.

"Because... I am Anya, I am the Monster. I feed off the pain of others and it fills me with incredible energy. Gods what have I done?" Anya coughed out, filled with remorse as her vision faded to black.

Opening her eyes again, Anya shudders with her revelations. "Could I become that monster I killed so long ago? Would I unleash that potential in me if pushed hard enough?" Anya looked up from her hands to survey the approaching army, it's march all the more ominous now. "Would my students truly be able to stop me?"

To Be Continued!
----------------
I had most of this chapter planned out last week but I ran into trouble with the little detail of how to get it started. Thankfully that detail was overcome.

Also hopefully this turn of events reduces Anya's "Mary Sue" status somewhat... Mary Sues always succeed, and when they don't, everyone comes to their aid, no one ever thinks they are wrong or they are always right in the eyes of the reader/writer (at least from my interpretation) In this chapter Anya's thoughts about just how far she could stoop to just to protect her school (or perhaps was it just how far she would stoop just to defeat her enemies) lead her down a dark path that shows her that she is just as capable of being the horrible monster that she normally would be fighting against.

What do you think? If the only way to survive and protect your loved ones was to become something you hate and would normally destroy without a second thought, would it be ok?

[Keita]

O_O

>Refer to last post for general reaction

On the point of Anya, nice, I like the deep insite of her you laid her inner thoughts bare as she contimplated her actions but I'm guessing this is barely the tip of the iceberge

On your question, I would like to think I would. I'd take the responsibility and the consquences of what happened if it meant protecting. It it had to be, self sacrifice so I wouln't hurt those I protected.

[cganya]

yadda-yadda warning this chapter contains dark matter if you have skipped this far then I apologize, its a rather dark story. The next few chapters will contain less nightmareish stuff and more combaty stuff.


You were warned!
-------------------
The distant army marched onwards slowly, towards Anya's school. Anya herself still watched it's advance stoically, lost in her thoughts. She had not even noticed that one of her students had approached her.

"Teacher, you should get some rest, the army won't be here until night at the earliest. You have been up since yesterday morning, ever since we spotted them." said the young man.

Anya continued to watch the distant army, lost in her thoughts. Finally she turned her gaze to her student. "Daniel, how would you respond to this situation? how would you prepare?"

Daniel paused to think for a moment, taking measure of his options. "Fighting, even defensively, will probably not work. Their numbers are far too numerous and none of us are as inexhaustible as you are. I think we should trap the school, take what we can carry and move into the mountains. Using hit and run tactics we could slow down their forces enough to perhaps give the remaining southern cities time to unite."

"That might work but I don't think that would slow them for long. Despite heading directly towards us, I don't think they would chase us into the mountains. They will want to make sure we don't come to the aid of Greatwall in time to save it." replied Anya.

"However, great teacher, everyone has their limits. If you do not rest before that army gets here then you will soon reach yours." reminded Daniel. Before Anya could protest he continued. " You taught us the importance of rest and preparation before battle, don't fail to follow your own teachings. It would set a bad example."

Anya quickly halted her protest with a grumble. She had to admit that Daniel was right. "Wake me the moment our scouts return or the enemy comes close enough to make out details with a spyglass." she commanded before heading off to her quarters.

Once in her room Anya sat on her large bed. She hated sleeping, she often dreamed of the past. While Anya remained strong and healthy, many of her friends and family had grown old or passed away. Often she dreamed of her childhood both as a Snowdrifter and as a cheetah-woman. If it was not a dream of losing her family and being caged then it was a dream of being feared and different from the only people she knew. Her only other dreams were of those she left behind and had outgrown. But Daniel's advice rang true and she would need to sleep if she wanted to implement any of her plans.

Slowly closing her eyes as she rested her head against a collection of pillows, Anya quickly drifted off into sleep.

Slowly Anya became aware of her dream, she was standing in her room but everything was quiet and tinted red.

"Come to me..."

A distant voice caught Anya's attention, she tried to place it. Opening the door of her room she found the halls of her school empty and painted red like everything else. Wandering her empty school in search of the voice, she tried to remember it.

"Find me among your instruments snow child..."

Anya knew she had heard that voice at least once before, so deep, so guttural. but where had she heard it? With a short moment's effort she considered the words of the distant voice. Anya was no bard and owned no instruments but she was a warrior. Perhaps the voice was directing her to the school's armory.

Opening the door to the armory revealed it to be just as it had been the last time she was in it. Armor and weapons of many varieties lined the walls and filled the stands of this room. Everything was the same hue of faded red just as everything else in her dream so far. One thing did stand out of place though. A dark glass jar standing alone on a small table. Anya picked up the jar and held it close to read the label. "Essence of Pain" was labeled on the side of the bottle, a thick black liquid sloshed around inside the container.

"You should remember me Anya, we spent so much time together when you were young." The glass jar rumbled with each syllable.

"I don't remember... but I know you're voice..." Anya replied slowly. In her mind she started to recall old, painful memories.

Suddenly the room flashed and changed in an instant as memories came flooding back into Anya's mind. The room was filled with dozens of instances of Anya as a young elven child in various stages of torture. Hanging from the walls and ceiling, nailed to the floor and strapped to the tables; each one twisted and shuddering in agony. Anya could hear and feel their screams and cries of pain.

Louder and stronger than before the voice spoke again, seemingly coming from every direction at once. "I enjoyed the time we spent together Anya. My how you've grown! But it is really no surprise, as I have watched you grow up all these years"

Anya gritted her teeth as the chorus of her younger cries assaulted her nerves. She couldn't perceive the pain but her body could remember it as she began to shake slightly. "Who are you?!" She screamed in anger, forcing away the horrible memories as best she could.

"I am in that jar, the same one used on your food so long ago. I am in every wound, every strained mind and every heart that has lost it's other half. I am the tar that lives in your soul. I am your god Anya, I am Pain." Anya shudders as the voice assaults her mind. Grinding her teeth and breathing hard she fights to keep standing. Not pain, but strain and weariness pull at her to kneel.

"Every time you inflict pain on another it is like a prayer to me, your battles are like grand masses in my honor! It had filled me with hunger to watch your mind as your contemplated using your flesh weaving to destroy your enemy." The voice laughed deeply as it grew louder and more excited.

"What do you want from me!" Anya screamed as she grasped at the table the jar had been on for support. The voice and the room combined with her memories, threatened to overwhelm her.

"I want you to do what you already do so well. I want you to fight and win. I chose and shaped you to prepare you for this coming battle. I have a vested interest in your success. You see Fear and I have a wager as to which is greater in regards to creating conflict. We both were allowed to give our chosen champion two gifts to prepare them for the battle. I know you already enjoy my gift of painlessness. The voice laughed and rocked the room relentlessly. "Without it you could not stand my presence for more than a moment. Even with it you struggle to stand." The walls, covered with the memories of Anya's tormented childhood, seemed to pulse with each of the dark presence's words.

Anya dropped the glass jar as she moved her free hand to the table to support herself. She felt herself growing numb from the overwhelming forces gnawing at her mind. The jar crashed against the ground and shattered into dozens of shards, spilling the black liquid. All around her the screaming and pain grew louder and stronger.

"Your second gift will manifest when you shatter your left hand. Allow me to show you..." Anya opened her eyes wide as she felt her right hand move on it's own. She watched as she picked up a stone mallet off a nearby shelf, Anya strained her muscles helplessly as she tried to regain control of her arm. With her great strength Anya's right arm came down, smashing he left hand against the sturdy wooden table with the sickening sounds of breaking bones. Her left hand was covered in blood as her right arm raised itself for another blow. It fell with another sickening crunch, the mallet had broken through the wooden table. Gritting her teeth Anya managed to wrest control of her right arm again.

Anya suddenly felt strong enough to raise her shattered hand to assess the damage she had unwillingly done to herself. She examined her hand in sickening wonderment. She found her bones to be broken and her skin torn but she could still bend and move her hand as if it were whole. Slowly as she stretched her fingers apart she watched them move and spread unnaturally far. A familiar black liquid gushed forth from the wounds and filled the gaps in her hand. Anya marveled at the development in her hand with horrified curiosity. The thick black liquid shifted her shattered hand around, building up a ball in the palm of her hand. Slowly a fleshy white sphere pushed through the liquid and settled itself firmly inside the palm of her hand. The sphere was an eye, it's iris looked red like a fire, riddled with painful looking cracks.

"I give to you the ability to share your pain with others. Your shattered hand will be your focus and all those who hear you and gaze upon you will know the pain you wish upon them." the voice rumbled with excitement. "My essence runs through your veins now and I know you'll make me proud." The booming voice of Pain finished it's sentence with a deep, guttural laugh.

The cries and screams of the room intensified along with the dark god's merriment but Anya felt them no longer. Standing taller with a new found strength in her legs she contemplated her shattered hand. "So all I am, all this time, was your pawn in an ego fueled wager with another god?" Anya spat her question with indignation. "I refuse your gift dark god, I always fight for the side of the right. I will not let you use me like a chess piece!" Anya yelled in fury back at her faceless tormentor.

The black, tar-like, liquid on the floor began to grow and stir. It shifted into a large, lumpy oval and raised to stand before Anya. Anya's eyes grew wide as the pain racked face of Red Rose moved to the surface. "You will fight and you will win Anya, my chosen. If you do not then you will never rescue this one from me. She still exists deep inside you, waiting for someone to free her from me." The voice turned even darker as it teased Anya's emotions.

All of Anya's anger and resistance faded as she saw the woman that saved her so long ago. "I-if I defeat Fear's champion, you'll free her?" Anya stammered, not looking away from Red Rose.

"Maybe I will. That is what I have been telling her all these years. Her struggle has been so entertaining. She still holds onto a tiny fragment of hope that you'll free her like she did for you. If you fail, or if you run away from this battle, I will destroy what little is left of her soul." The voice shook the room as it threatened Anya. Red Rose sunk back into the black tar and the oval lost it's form, falling and draining through the cracks in the floor.

Anya's vision began to blur and fade as she watched the last trickles of the tar seep between the stones in the ground. "Wake now little pawn. It is your turn to move forward. By the way, I thought you would like to know that the one who leads the northern army is someone you knew long ago." The voice resounded with laughter through Anya's skull as her vision went black.

Anya opened her eyes and sat up quickly. She looked at her hands, her left hand was no different from her right. Reflecting on her life she thought of all her great victories and accomplishments. She asked herself if she could have done any of them without her gift of painlessness. Her answers only served to discourage her. "All that I am is false, my path was never my own. I am Anya... I am the Plaything of a Dark God."

Anya continued to stare at her left hand. it was shaking as her mind raced, looking for a direction or angle to approach her situation. "Will I fight to appease such an evil being just for a chance to save Red Rose? Is that really who I am?" She clenched her fist and growled. "I will not abandon Red Rose. Even if I damn myself to hell for my actions I will not let her sacrifice for me to be for nothing!"

To Be Continued!
----------------

Well who wouldn't be a mary sue if their life had been influenced by a greater being? yes I realize that by being influenced by a god means the character was kinda mary sue in the sense that she was special enough to be chosen. It had to happen to somebody, and who really wants to read a story about random dude number 35?

Only a few more chapters to go! hope your still enjoying the story Metal Militia!

[The Merchant Of Menace]

Posting to watch and stuff.

[Taricus]

Come on, Random No.35 is quite nice, maybe a little bit tipsy but he is still good.

[Something Evil]

*A knee-high stuffed bunny, pink with a white belly, knocks the door down, bolter gun in one hand, and in the other a chainaxe, its engine revved loudly. It screams in a high-pitched squeaky voice.*
"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GO--- Whoops. I think I have the wrong address. I'll just sit and watch, okay?"

[Falknor]

Enjoying the short stories.

Thanks for bringing up the Mary Sue trope. Temptation to keep reading and reading adverted. ... Barely 

[cganya]

Come on, Random No.35 is quite nice, maybe a little bit tipsy but he is still good.

yeah but i wanna write about Anya she punches Dracula! well no but kinda.

*A knee-high stuffed bunny, pink with a white belly, knocks the door down, bolter gun in one hand, and in the other a chainaxe, its engine revved loudly. It screams in a high-pitched squeaky voice.*
"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GO--- Whoops. I think I have the wrong address. I'll just sit and watch, okay?"

hehe cute little ball of bloody rage, I hope you enjoy the story ^.^

Enjoying the short stories.

Thanks for bringing up the Mary Sue trope. Temptation to keep reading and reading adverted. ... Barely 

damn, tvtropes almost paid me in advertising