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Sword And Silence

Torin's Sword



Part One: Silence


I looked at my reflection in the bronze mirror: short hair, oval face, and eyes the shade of olives. My other self touched the collar, slowly moving down the low kaftan with my hands. Light blue, the color of the Tur'ean sky, before the Two-Heads destroyed it and made it theirs.


The breast bands kept my chest flat. I look like a boy now. Relief flooded my being, filled me with an odd joy.


The sword gleamed beside the bronze mirror, shimmers of light along its long graceful edges. It was made for a lady a long time ago. I held it in my hands and it sang my name. Torin. Torin. Torin.


I sang its name back: Claritas.


Interweaving our lives together.


I grabbed the handle firmly with two hands and lifted it up in the traditional en-garde position, my body sliding automatically into the battle-ready stance.


Salut.


***


The Two-Head reared up in front of me, a baleful shadow come to life. Two horse-heads with hate-filled eyes, on top of a thin body, black-furred and clawed. It wantedo crush the life out of me, moving and sounding like an enraged earth-stallion, snorting and whinnying. What kind of Beast are you? I think, blocking its strike with Claritas.

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