The slow, methodical grind as the stone drags over the blade keen edge. Old hands softly caress the hilt with love and devotion, as the stone edges the blade. In the flicker of the firelight, truths and solitude give a secure moment,and She speaks as if to a Sister…
” I know you are watching, I can feel your breath on my neck, your scent fills my nose, your aura brings peace and a balance in your the world, so tell me why you hide in the shadows?”
Settling the stone aside, takes an old T-shirt an wipes the excess oil and grit from the shiny steel cleaver. Sighing at the response as the wind, restless in her response, moves the heavy cloth curtains. Old eyes watch for a brief moment, before tidying the items back to their respective places on the shelves.
“Do you not wish to take credit for the good you do? Have you not deserved to stand in the septum and take the applause for your deeds? ”
And all the while, keen eyes and ears track every possible movement and noise, hoping for a glimpse of Her. But nothing stirs, no foot fall, nothing.
“Aghhhh I do see nothing to say you should hide, and less so for me. And yet you become more mysterious with each passing day. The finery of a lady, brings you little joy it seems, and uncomfortable, you do appear it each moon passing, what then? What troubles you so? For if it is a living young, I shall cleave it rent the matter in two halves and feast upon its downfall gladly, to see you to hear you to feel your laughter. ”
And still no sound no freaking poor tinkle of cracked floorboards, even a rasped laugh, no breath disturbs the night air. A soft sigh lets loose from the warrior’s lips, as once more she reassures herself that tonight will not see the maiden. And so in a bowl of broth and lumps of fresh bread she tasks herself.
“We have walked through time,hand in hand over the fields of battle you and , never giving much thought to those who fell beneath my sword,or for your beauty became enslaved in a spells web of lust. In truth, we held hands as we walked, do you recall? How far we have trodden? How far has the girl come? ”
The words hang in the air, like statements should. But they bring no answer,they bring no comfort. Indeed, they like smoke, swirl and cling to the air. Thick with unanswered questions. The moment seems to stretch in itself as the wooden spoon scoops broth to a bowl.
” I wonder how many times we must go through the same battle, to win? Does it not s3m odd to you since we left the prison gate of jewells cage, we have grown new, become changed. Enhanced what little knowledge sure as eggs are eggs, but have we really got no choice bar to repeat the action until all the criteria is complete? I do not tire of fighting, nor will I tire of defending my sisters thus, but it has come at a steep price this time, do you not agree?”
The giant paused as if to allow an snswer, before taking the bowl and sitting to eat slow and carefully. Treasures each flavour filled mouth full.
“Stone and sea, it is good to feed upon the ego of others”