« Reply #1 on: October 11, 2019, 05:31:51 PM »
Know Thyself “Before one can begin their walk towards the mastery of the way of the blade, they must first learn to cope with themselves, and discover their strengths and weaknesses, their perfections and flaws. For in such, a balance of the self will be found, and within that balance, the foundation upon which swordplay can be built.”
With those words, and lady Arianwen’s advice in mind, the swordswoman sank deep within herself, an inhale, an exhale, slow and repeated. Her mind is full of worries, doubt, but all is banished with the simple, natural motions. An inhale, an exhale, and the world becomes weightless, off her chest it goes, all that once rested upon it, a burden finally liberated from. Before her she sees herself, or rather, various versions of herself. The Child, The Teenager, The Farmer, The Thug, The Bandit, The Berserker, The Monster, The Coward, The Fearless, The Lover, The Insecure.
Each sing their own song, and confess their weakness and strength, the child praised her innocence, and grieved it’s loss, the Teenager praised her youth, and grieved it’s loss, the Farmer praised the easiness of the way she lived, the peace that is now gone, swallowed within the mists, The Thug praised her wits, and to the voice of honour and pride she scowled. The Bandit praised her riches, and cried at the sight of it all fading within the pockets of the Vistani merchants. The Berserker praised her rage, indominable strength and will to surpass all odds, it beaconed for the loss of the self to the instincts of nature, and the notions of control and self-restrain disgusted her. The Monster screamed for the blood of the unworthy, the traitors, and stood as a shadow of the Berserker. The Coward wishes it all to be over, it murmurs for her to let go of her sword, and instead find a strong man to marry, yes, a life of righteousness and safety. To that the Fearless objected, and for the glory of slaying the toughest of foes it heralded. The lover simply blushed to the Coward’s words, “Hehehe, Lewd.”
The Insecure’s voice, barely audible, spoke intelligibly, of distant ramblings.
Within her mind, the voices raised, each calling their path the right one, each luring for her to follow along. Be a Coward, be a Berserker, be a Monster…
An inhale, an exhale, and the voices are silent, subdued, cut down by the sharpest of all the blades, her very will , keen and resolute, gave her peace. “I am a sword.”
« Last Edit: October 15, 2019, 02:45:35 PM by Eters »
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