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Fatima's Diary
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reflections for the lost
8. Bladebringers and Secondswords
Once again my luck has brought me through the night whole. I pen this scribble with the blood that is leaking from the gash across my second arm, in the dying light of our campfires. I received this wound because I was one step too slow, one non-thought away from safety. I was on my watch, wandering in a slow circuit down on the dark side of the temporary camp, attuning my delicate eyes to the soft night lights. I heard the normal cacophony of night noises. At night, I often attune myself to the noises, so similar in feeling and quality to the gentle whisperings of the desert winds and the brass of the woods and insects. And then there were no sounds, and time seemed to seep into a dripping pace.Drip- a breath.
Drip- a step back to the fires.
Drip- my wind emptied in a shout of "Out Swords."
Drip- tiny slices of light, drawn blackened blades danced in the night.
Drip- out comes my rapier.
Drip- a bellow, Lobar rises.
Drip- they were upon us, the black cloaked bladebringers.
Drip- glance: Labrinnon, struggling free of his bedroll.
Drip- I danced, taking the two afore me, distracting them from my charge.
Drip- my flesh is their shield.
Drip- we dance, blades glinting the moon.
Drip, Drip- Their blades bite home within me, twice, thrice.
Drip- I fell one nightfast breaker upon my quick steel.
Drip- a bladebringer finds home for his secondsword in my flesh.
Drip- my world turns upside down.
Drip, Drip- My life flows out, feeding the hungry ground
Drip- someone grabs my hair. I see the secondsword swoop down
Drip- Malakon steps over me and destroys my foe
Drip- fire opens my veins and with two heartbeats
Beat- my bones knit, the fountain slows
Beat- my stomach flesh seals, I feel inside me shift
Beat- I still bleed, but less then before.
Beat, Drip- I write.
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