The Crown Of Ice and Blood

I find myself dreaming about foggy voices and lights and outlines of people. The only thing clearly pictured is a girl, laughing maniacally as she swings her sword above her head, then back down, creating a sickening squelching scraping sound upon impact of an unseen target. Blood partially coats her body, her face cruel and unrecognizable, her hair braided into a crown atop her head.
She looks up and sees me, her wicked grin widening. She takes a step towards me, her eyes flashing evily. She readies her sword to strike, and I step back and find myself teetering on a cliff's edge. She thrusts her sword, and just as her blade reaches me, the dream turns back to mist and I snap awake to the early morning light, lying in a pool of sweat.

**Fair warning! This is my first completed story, and I'm the proud mom to it. However, I do realize I've made Asta a slight bit Mary Sue, so forgive me for that. I do apologize, and I do promise I am attempting to perfect my writing, but it takes time, and this work is far from perfect.
Lots of love!