Post by Kiko on Jul 12, 2013 23:11:11 GMT -5
A piece of rice paper fluttered gently to the floor of the tree house. It was a fragile thing; wrinkled, torn, and wet in places. Why Kiko had not discarded it in town was a mystery even to her. She had been back to the Tavern where a bard known as Dominic played to whoever would listen. The paper had changed hands during a lull and if Kiko's face had whitened Dominic had the good grace not to ask any questions and she took the paper with her.
Kiko walked silently across the floor to the treehouse bedroom. She abandoned the balcony and the view she always found joy in. She took a deep breath and yanked her tanto free. The long length of her hair was caught up in one hand and sliced off at the neck. The strands, unlike the paper, dropped heavily to the floor when she opened her hand.
Kiko turned away. She went to her knees in front of a battered wooden trunk. She traced a howling wolf burnt into the surface of it with her thumb. The lid was flipped open and a piece of black silk pulled from of it. The silk itself was as battered as the trunk; worn thin in some places, torn at the hem, the threads frayed and tangled. Still, she treated it with extreme reverence. Kiko folded it neatly while remembering battle with headless horseman. She had bandaged Grayell with it, back when the kimono was still wearable.
The sword known as "The Windswept Grass" came next, lifted from the trunk and placed carefully on the black silk. The Wolf had gifted her with it seven years ago. That day she pledge herself to him and his Vanguard. The weapon was lavished with care, swept clean of any dust or dirt, and sharpened until the edge gleamed in the afternoon light. It had served her well for a very long time.
One by one all of the armor and weaponry she had worn over the years was removed and thoroughly cleaned or repaired.
When she reached the bottom another katana came free of the battered trunk. It was dull with disuse and she spent several minutes with the blade held horizontally in front of her chest. Her eyes fell closed, her breath slowed down, and her thumb went over the tsuba. Tears ran freely down her cheeks while infinite memories collided in her mind. Her voice was steady, though, when she spoke.
"Kaminari, keep him safe."
Every piece of gear Kiko had worn in service to the Vanguard went back into the trunk, but one. When she left the tree house the pendant the Wolf called "The Caress of Orlune" was still around her neck. It was the first gift he had given her and she could not bear to take it off.
Her grandfather's sword, wrapped tightly in silk, was on her back.
Kiko walked silently across the floor to the treehouse bedroom. She abandoned the balcony and the view she always found joy in. She took a deep breath and yanked her tanto free. The long length of her hair was caught up in one hand and sliced off at the neck. The strands, unlike the paper, dropped heavily to the floor when she opened her hand.
Kiko turned away. She went to her knees in front of a battered wooden trunk. She traced a howling wolf burnt into the surface of it with her thumb. The lid was flipped open and a piece of black silk pulled from of it. The silk itself was as battered as the trunk; worn thin in some places, torn at the hem, the threads frayed and tangled. Still, she treated it with extreme reverence. Kiko folded it neatly while remembering battle with headless horseman. She had bandaged Grayell with it, back when the kimono was still wearable.
The sword known as "The Windswept Grass" came next, lifted from the trunk and placed carefully on the black silk. The Wolf had gifted her with it seven years ago. That day she pledge herself to him and his Vanguard. The weapon was lavished with care, swept clean of any dust or dirt, and sharpened until the edge gleamed in the afternoon light. It had served her well for a very long time.
One by one all of the armor and weaponry she had worn over the years was removed and thoroughly cleaned or repaired.
When she reached the bottom another katana came free of the battered trunk. It was dull with disuse and she spent several minutes with the blade held horizontally in front of her chest. Her eyes fell closed, her breath slowed down, and her thumb went over the tsuba. Tears ran freely down her cheeks while infinite memories collided in her mind. Her voice was steady, though, when she spoke.
"Kaminari, keep him safe."
Every piece of gear Kiko had worn in service to the Vanguard went back into the trunk, but one. When she left the tree house the pendant the Wolf called "The Caress of Orlune" was still around her neck. It was the first gift he had given her and she could not bear to take it off.
Her grandfather's sword, wrapped tightly in silk, was on her back.