Sleep did not come easily for Dianna this night. A good night's rest was often alien to Dianna, who slept with one eye open each night out of practiced caution against unwanted intruders. Even now, swaddled in the strange liquid of the resting pod within the Zailiens, Dianna felt a current of unease beneath her thoughts. But moreso than that was the blinding rage she felt, having had her ideas shot down twice. Was it really that unrealistic to want her church to know of the Zailiens? In fact, it was her honor-bound duty! She absolutely must allow the Church of Deruthmoryx to get their hands on the Zailiens, no matter the cost. Even if it meant...

No, that wasn't a good way of thinking. It would not be fair nor just for her to kill her newfound friends in cold blood, even if their actions were against the church's wishes. Deruthmoryx would not approve of such actions. But regardless, rage consumed her at the utter disrespect Lawrence had thrown at her that day. She understood that was simply how Lawrence was- a man with little regard for the gravity of his actions, who valued a quick quip over his own life. Maybe she wouldn't have to kill him at all- maybe he'd get himself killed in the near future.

To calm herself, and to regain her composure, Dianna turned to her stats. She would often mull over her stats, wondering if she'd allocated her Experience well and if there was any way for her to "build" herself better. She always planned what she would do with Experience in advance, but had no idea what to do with as much Experience as she had now. She figured it would take her a good hour or two in order to properly weigh the value of each of her stat increases, and that would give her plenty of time to let sleep take her. Once she finished, her new stats are:

STR

4

DEX

23 (+2, -63 Experience)

VIT

11 (+1, -10 Experience)

INT

14

WIT

15 (+1, -14 Experience)

PER

23 (+4, -82 Experience)

CHA

16 (+1, -29 Experience)

LCK

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

10

With her stats completed, Dianna found herself composed, calm, and rational once again. She felt little of the rage she had felt previously, replaced only by drowsiness and her dedication to Deruthmoryx. She recited her daily prayers as she drifted away into sleep.

Dianna never remembered her dreams. They were always escaped her memory, never leaving enough of an impression on her to stick when she awoke. For the longest time, Dianna simply assumed that if her dreams were worth remembering, then she would remember them. Tonight, however, she would realize the truth.

Dianna was roused from her sleep within a dream, where she had fallen asleep at the desk of a classroom. The classroom was barren and poorly furnished, equipped only with the most basic desks and chairs, with small and dirty windows leading to the outside and no decorations and no books of any kind anywhere to be found. As a matter of fact, there was nothing educational within this classroom at all- only the direction of a teacher that could be assumed to be more intelligent than the students it taught. But there was no educator present... so how did Dianna know this?

Dianna slowly rose from her desk, which she found to be far to small for someone of her size, and slowly stepped out of the room. She found herself in a dusty lot outside of the school building, an evident playground with nothing- not even a ball- for the children who attended to play with. Dianna stepped out towards the lot, basking in the dry heat around her. Something about the heat felt oddly familiar.

I've been here before, haven't I, Dianna mused to herself. The writing is basically on the wall- why else would I have faint memories of this place?

Dianna scoffed, before turning around to face the school building again. She doubted that this place was important to her- if it was, she would certainly remember it. She had no memories from before the Church of Deruthmoryx took her in, but that was only natural, because she was taken in by the church at the young age of five. Of course she would have no memories from then, and if she was supposed to then none of them were important.

Dianna stepped slowly towards the school building. She traced her hands along the wall of the exposed brick hobble, feeling at times a faint connection to the place and at times a lurking sense of dread. She followed the wall of the building, as both sensations grew stronger, as she approached the corner of the building, where it jutted out into an L-shape. Facing her, perpendicular to the rest of the building, was a singular door, likely leading to somewhere of great importance, such as a headmaster's office. Dianna approached the door, feeling wave after wave of fear wash over her as she did, before at last she stood before it. In an instant, Dianna felt powerless, useless, and infantile before the door. She felt herself shrink down to half her size- the size of a small child- as she strained to reach up towards the knob of the door. She reached and reached, and as she did every fiber of her being screamed out to pull away. But Dianna refused. It was in her nature to be curious- something she had forgotten until now, but her spark of curiosity was reignited by this door. She reached her hand up, up, up, standing on the tips of her toes and stretching her back out as much as she could.

Her hand touched the knob. Dianna looked down at her hand, returned to her original size, as her fingers gently rested on top of the brass fixture. Dianna gulped loudly, feeling a sense of fear and curiosity battling within her. She wrapped her hand around the knob, and began to twist.

Searing pain shot through Dianna's chest. She coughed, and was shocked to feel a warm, trickling sensation pour from her mouth as she did. Her vision wavering, she looked down, and was stunned to see the tip of a pitch-black sword impaling her from behind. Blood poured from the wound, pooling below her. Trembling, she strained her neck to turn around and see the owner of this sword.

A pair of burning, flaming eyes met hers. Sharp, shark-like teeth stretched into a wicked grin, as the blood-stained grey skin of this man's face told Dianna all she needed to know. This man was an orc, and judging by his uniform an elite soldier from Velstadt. But she didn't need to see his attire to know that- she recognized this man by his face alone. This was Otto von Bismarck, Third Colonel of the Velstadt Army- the man who had killed her mother.