THIRTY ONE: A Dream [End]

A man with shaggy hair and torn clothes, all of it stained with blood, slumped down next to a woman.

Her golden hair and tattered dress were equally blood stained, and the hems of her garment completely singed. 

"We did it," the man sighed, leaning his head back against the stone wall behind them. 

"We finally won."

The woman nodded and sighed, clutching a trinket to her chest.

"I wish the others were here to see this," she whispered.

"Kel.." the man trailed off.

"Your Majesties!" A man called, running toward them. 

He paused to catch his breath once he reached them.

"We've finished tallying the death count," he reported, extending a scroll toward the man.

".. Already?" The man reluctantly took the scroll, his arm struggling under its weight as if he was grasping a heavy iron rather than a light parchment.

"Er.. it was easier to just count the living and subtract that from the total," the man explained.