The first thing to greet me when next I regained consciousness was the sun shining on my face through the window beside my bed. Afternoon, then. Every muscle ached, every nerve in my body felt like it was boiling. I was alive. That pain meant I was alive. I couldn't believe it. When I went to sit up, the pain wracked my body again and forced me to lay back down. But the shifting of sheets brought someone to me. My vision blurred from the pain, but even then, I could tell. Emerald eyes, gentle and kind as she took my hand. Face scorched by dragon fire, though that didn't stop her from always having a smile. And dangling from her neck, an amulet of the Platinum Dragon. Mira the Annointed, a high elf, sat on the edge of my bed, squeezing my hand softly.

"Hello, Hope. How are you feeling?" Her voice was soft, a hint of pain behind it. I just groaned and tried to sit up again, the pain in my arms causing me to lay down. Why did they hurt so much? I turned my face toward Mira, nodding. "I'm hurting everywhere." Then before I could calm my mind to think, questions erupted from my lips. "Whathappened? Iseveryoneok? WhataboutTomasandMrLogroth? WhereisSirHa-" Mira put a finger to my lips to shush me. "There will be time for that. But first, there's something you need to know."

"Must we really do this now, Mira?" Meriadoc the Brave, a halfling with curly brown hair, folded his arms from the door to the room. "Hope's only just woken up, give her a moment for pity's sake!"

"Every moment we give her means the truth becomes harder to tell." Mira snapped back. "It's been three days since the attack, and no one has seen Dane since."

Three days? Had I really been asleep for that long? I clutched at Mira's arm, the sudden realization hitting me. "Mr. Logroth, is he..." I didn't want to finish the question. I knew the answer, of course, I'd watched it happen. But if I acknowledged the question, that invited the answer to be true. Mira nodded solemnly. "He is, I'm afraid. But thanks to you, we were able to swoop in and surprise them. No one else was hurt."

He was dead. That kind old man, blood of savages running through his veins, passed from this world. That man who had done no harm to a living soul. And Sir Hamund...No. Dane killed him. I felt the fire rise in my blood, the rage building. There was no mistake. Dane was a murderer now. No telling how many he killed that day, but I knew one of his victims very well, and that hurt more than anything. I screamed, I cried, I raged and wailed and beat my fists on my straw filled mattress. For what felt like ages, I let out all my pain. Mira just waited patiently. I suspect that she probably experienced the same or greater.

When at last I spent my energy, and my body laid at rest, Mira took my hand once more. "Hope. We need to tell you something. This isn't the best news, but it's all we have. Dane is gone. He and that lich Zerak fled when we arrived. I'm sure you noticed that Valkyrie was not with him...We found it abandoned on the Bellowing Slopes."

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From the doorway entered an imposing figure clothed in bearskin, the left side of his face marked with green paint and various points of his body covered in tribal tattoos. Garret of Valara stepped in, holding in his hands the greatsword Valkyrie, its blade gleaming with a shimmering light. "It's chosen you, Hope of Loheim, as its next wielder."

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The silence drew on for a good while. Garret looked at me, Meriadoc looked at Garret, Mira looked at me. I couldn't look at anyone. How do you do that? Tell a kid, a seven year old kid who'd spent her whole life knowing she'd just be gutter trash till the day she died, that she was now heir to a sacred charge? I clenched my fists, my heart pounding in my ears. None of this felt real anymore. "No." I stated simply, matter-of-factly.

"There is no 'no'. You will take it." Garret held the blade out to me, and I shook my head. "No. It's wrong. I'm not the one. I can't be."

"They're never wrong, Hope." Meriadoc spoke up. "They've always chosen correct-"

"Then why did Sir Hamund-!" I shouted, glaring at the halfling. I must have made quite the scary face, as he backed up.

"Sir Hamund...Dane." Mira corrected herself. "Dane was a great man once. Valkyrie would not have chosen him otherwise. If it found him unworthy-"

"Then how can I be worthy? I'm just a kid. A devilkin, at that."

"That has no bearing on-"

"It has all the bearing! You don't know what it's like for me! Every day, every single day, I'm reminded of what I am, of where I come from! I know the look in peoples' eyes when I pass." My finger gestured accusingly at Garret and Mira. "It's the same look you have. You try to hide it, but I know that face. Disgust, fear, branding me a monster because of these!" I felt my horns. Oh, how I wanted to tear them off. But Mira placed her hands on mine, and I saw the tears in her eyes.

How foolish I was. Dane was their friend, a fellow champion of the world. His betrayal would stab like a knife to the heart. They were hurting too. They didn't show it as well, but now I could see the pain in Mira's face, Garret's barely contained fury, and Meriadoc struggling to keep up the illusion of a smile. Disgust and fear, but not for me. Disgust for their friend turning to darkness. Fear for what it could mean, or what might have caused it. I held Mira's hand, a silent apology for my outburst.

"I don't want it." My hands shook. "It's not fair."

"Life's not fair, Hope. We can't choose our fate, just learn to accept it." Garret leaned down, setting Valkyrie against the bed frame. "If you will not use it, then at least keep it. Valkyrie has chosen you."

"How do you even know that?"

"It speaks through the others. They will talk, if you take but a moment to listen."

"Valkyrie believes in you. Maybe one day you'll believe in yourself." Meriadoc smiled softly at me, though it left me feeling only more burdened than ever.

They left later that evening. They didn't take the sword. I was moved to a single room, one I got to have all to myself, which only left me more isolated. When I went into town, at least, the people were better to me. Still not treating me like normal. In fact, alot of them would tell me how I was very brave to stand up to Dane like that, but I knew the truth. It wasn't bravery. It was anger. I could never let go of it, not even now, almost twenty years later. It still rises up now and then, like when we fought the Reaper, or those bandits. My blood boils and lets loose that flaming fury. Dane was wrong. Dane lied. It's not my actions that define me. It's my blood.