“Almost to the castle, Eory. Just three more days!” Kori exclaimed cheerfully.

Eory nodded silently and shyly with a tiny smile.

Night was falling and Eory was entranced by the snow that looked like pixie dust as it gently floated down in the orange light of the torches lining the path.

He hugged Gershom close as he looked at the wonderment around him. He described it in his mind as he was wont to do.

White flecks of snow gently crept down from the sky—looking for all the world like tiny crystals that glinted in the orange firelight. All around, snow was piled up on the side of the road and brought out how emerald green the leaves on the trees were which framed the path.

Eory thought the description was apt and beautiful. He thought it was one of the prettier descriptions he had ever come up with, and his imagination ran away from him as he expanded on the story. 

There was a dark-skinned woman waiting for him in the forest that framed the path. She was seven-feet-tall, had piercing blue eyes, and wore a beautiful, silky pink dress with a hood and fur trim. When he approached, she lowered her hood and looked at him with a brilliant smile. She revealed a silvery white mane, her mature face coming into focus.

Eory was brought back to reality with a jolt--his dog barking loudly in his ear--and Kori yelling his name. “Eory! Eory! We have to get out of here! It’s Pollyanna!”

Eory leaned out of the carriage for a moment—gripping the side—and glanced behind him.

It was definitely her.

She did not have the sweet expression she had in his fantasy. She had a battle face on as she grunted, cutting down three of the guards travelling behind the carriage easily with a crescent arc.

She was shot by three arrows as the knights circled her skillfully. She growled, briefly brought to her knees in pain. She was bleeding heavily, but she ripped the arrows out of her body, her wounds healing at an inhuman speed--the blood retracting into her body.

She stood up with a roar and continued dueling the dozens of knights who were no match for her, even on horseback.

The man driving the carriage whipped the horses, speeding up their pace. Eory heard steel-on-steel behind him--the grunts of a woman possessed were carried to his ears on the freezing wind.

Kori’s hands lit up with green fire as she prepared to attack Pollyanna. It began as a tiny yellow flame floating above her hands—about an inch wide—and then roared into a full, green flame that was larger than both her tiny waif hands. She peered behind the carriage—ready to launch the fireball—but Eory grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Wait! Don’t harm her!”

Kori looked at him, stunned, and then she scowled, pushing him away. She said sternly, “Sit there and do as you’re told, Eory!”

“But she’s protected my family for centuries! She has been nothing but good and kind to us!” Eory cried. “She protected innocent people from my family, while pretending she was on their side!”

“I may have told you stories about her being a hero, but she is just as terrible as your ancestors! She followed any horrible orders your family gave her!” Kori yelled above the screaming of the knights being massacred behind them.

In a moment the screaming went silent. The only sound was the churning of wheels on gravel and the cold wind in their ears.

Eory was in tears and he turned away, hugging his dog close.

Kori felt bad, but she had no time to soothe him. She peered behind the carriage again and saw that Pollyanna had disappeared and that all the guards were dead.