Three bolts buried themselves into my chest almost at the same time. I looked down at them and then back up to the crossbowmen who were reloading.

“Fucking hell do you know how much that fucking hurts!?” I screamed at them as I charged. The three men froze for a second as their heads jerked up to see me. I wasn’t really sure why they froze. It could be that they didn’t expect a lady of noble upbringing to be standing with crossbow bolts sticking out of her. Or it could be the bloody sword I was carrying low to my side as I ran at them. Who knows.

I slammed into their group like a pissed off tornado, hitting one in the neck and while his head was flying off somewhere, I buried my sword into the stomach of his friend. I planted my nice noble shoe, equipped with pretty little stones and way too high of a heel, on his leg and pulled sideways with my sword. The force of my pull swung the blade through his body but his last friend managed to block before it ran into him. So I pulled the bolt that was stuck partway into my breast out and jabbed it into his eye.

“Fuck that fucking fuuuuck. Fucking hurts.” I screamed out at his falling body and he joined in screaming with me. Not very eloquent though. Ah well not everyone is graceful in death. I turned to the last bad guy in the room. He was standing behind my father with a sword at his back and my sister beside him. I glared at him. I went to raise my blade but my arms started shaking pretty bad and nothing was working quite like it was supposed to. Probably blood loss or one of the bolts his something useful. Something other than the lung I was currently bleeding out of.

“Could you come over here and stab yourself for me?” I asked the shitty back stabbing noble not really expecting him to do it but it would be super fucking funny. He just stared at me mouth agape before jerking and making very threatening poking gestures with his sword at my father.

“I don’t know what the hells spawned a demon such as you but I still hold the upper hand. You will do as I say and dro-” His posturing rant was cut abruptly short as my little sister hauled back and kicked him right in the dick. Damn I love this sister. He screamed like a little girl and dropped his sword as he fell to his knees. I sauntered over, well sauntered as much as my failing body would allow, and pushed him over nice and gently with a kick to the chest.

“Hey, you remember when you asked me what kinds of things I would do to you with my mouth?” I grinned as I plopped down onto his chest. He burbled out some response that I didn’t really hear mainly because it wasn’t important. Since my arms had already given up on me and I lost the sword about halfway across the room at some point I went with the expedient option. I tore his useless throat open with my teeth. Always watch what you say to young impressionable girls they might take it the wrong way.

I’m sure he tried to scream or something. I was too busy looking over at my family to make sure they were okay. My father was pale and shaking and looked super freaked out. But he wasn’t injured so I gave it a pass. My sister was crying and hugging me. I was going to tell her that squeezing made the pain worse but fuck it I was going to die either way. I let her squeeze. Great family this time. I am going to miss them. I choked out one last blood-filled breath and then blackness took me.

When I opened my eyes next I was surrounded by beautiful blue and black and all kinds of colored sky. I stretched out my body and felt the rightness of it. No matter what I was in life, I always returned to m true body. The one I was first born with. I flexed my powerful wings and gave them a few flaps as I looked around the sky. It was as always empty and yet full. I could feel a wind against my feathers and the suns heat on my back. There was no actual wind or sun though that I could ever find. It was fine though since I was never here very long.

My last life had been pretty great. Only the second time I had been born to royalty but this time I made it almost to age seventeen. That was the longest I had lasted for a very long time. I clacked my beak and let out a great ringing cry as I pushed through the endless air. When I died I always burned and then I ended up here. And when I ended up here I always flew around until i burned again and I would wake up back in a new life.

I somehow managed to die young every time. I would blame it on god but I met him once. He told me he wasn’t responsible for my life. I knew he wasn’t the only god but none of the others ever talked to me. He didn’t talk to me anymore either, probably because I told him that his divinity made him look like a twat. Seriously who wants a big white aura that screams I’m a goody goody. He didn’t talk to me much so it isn’t a total loss but it does make these moments very lonely. I had no measure of time here so maybe it was only minutes or hours until I burned again. Or maybe it was millennia. That was a sobering thought.

I tried to remember each and every moment of my last life as I flew through the endless ocean of sky. It trickled away like a leaking water skin but as long as I remembered here then it would be in my memories for all time. I never got all my memories at once. They flowed in as I aged but it was always worth remembering. I floated through my last life basking in the love from my family and friends, the feelings of pride as I studied my lessons and eventually the sword in private. My father would have melted his brain if he knew. I remembered that it wasn't the only time I studied weapons without my family's permission.

I remembered my schooling. Everything was worth remembering if given the chance. I have years and years and decades of study pushed into my vast reservoir ready to be pulled back whenever it decided to rejoin me in life. In one life I had forged horseshoes and in another I was an anointed warrior of the gods. Some of those skills would always be with me as I was reborn over and over again.

I had to remember the pain of being shot. Crossbow bolts hurt. It wasn’t the first time I met my end in pain nor was it my first crossbow death. Dying always hurt though but I always remembered it. Getting used to the memory of pain helped me push through even when I should have already given up. It also helped me know if my injuries were actually my end or not. I had lived through some awful wounds and died to a single cut. Death should always be remembered.

I floated through the shining void of my prison mulling over how I had lived my life until I felt it. My fire spiked in my body and my feathers lit from within. I let out an exultant ringing cry as my body burst into scarlet flames. Although it had only felt like mere moments, it seemed it was my time to rise again.