Snippet #1080595

Dahlia woke up with a blinding headache. It felt as if a thousand knives were floating around endlessly in her brain. As her eyes began to clear and she gained the ability to raise her head, she looked up, to see the creature dead. She sat up, which took every ounce of strength, and sat there for a long time staring at it. So, the dark times had come. She wish she had someone she could trust to talk to, to tell her what was going to happen, what to expect. She wanted so badly to lay back down and sleep but she was in a back alley, not far from a dead teenager. She groaned as every muscle screamed in agony as she got up, picking up her sword. Dahlia stood over the creature for a short moment. She would need to train harder if bad times were coming.

She slowly made her way through the back allies, avoiding the main roads and streets as she was covered in blood and dirt, and looked like she had attacked a giant. Her feet shuffled, too tired to stride like she normally did. Dahlia looked like a woman about to collapse, and she felt that way too. The few who noticed her going by stopped and stared, wondering if she was victim, or a murderer.

As she walked down the elven ally, all things stopped. The elves recognized the smell, the smell of neesha . They didn't say anything to her as she walked past them, and she said nothing to them. If they had any doubts, Dahlia was showing them the truth. To ones who could tell the difference between elf blood and neesha blood, it was quite clear Dahlia had not attacked a good creature.

She barely managed to get up the stairs, barely managed to open the door. She fell hard on her mattress of a bed and looked at the last rays of sunlight streaming in. "I think......I think I need help" she managed to stammer out before exhaustion took her over again. Dahlia didn't dream, she couldn't her mind was just simply too exhausted.