Fir sat against the wall of her house, ripping blades of grass out of the ground and then letting them go in the wind. They were carried quickly away by a strong gust and Fir had to raise her hand to keep her hair from whipping her in the face.
Her parents and uncle were inside. They'd asked her to play outside for a while so she wouldn't hear what they were talking about. Even so, she'd left the door open ajar and sat, listening.
"Brother… I am glad you came." Karla's voice was steady but strained. It took all of her concentration to keep it from wavering.
"To witness the death of my sister… You always abhorred violence, so it is well that you die this way and not by my blade." Karel replied softly. "Though… I would have preferred that you live on a little longer."
"You have wandered these past years since last we fought for the same purpose. Did you discover a reason to return to the only family you have?"
"My blade has feasted on the blood of the strongest warriors in Elibe and yet it thirsts for more. I had hoped to see you stronger, sister, so that I could test your mettle."
"Do you think of nothing but battle?" Bartre growled. "Your sister, one who shares your blood, lies on her deathbed! She was so insistent that you visit her one last time and yet…"
"Bartre, it is alright," Karla coughed. "It is enough that he is here. Did you think of me, brother? While you were wandering… Did you remember how close we once were?"
Karel was silent for a moment. Bartre began to scold the sword master again but he cut him off, "I did reflect. There were many things I had forgotten of our childhood. Karla, did you cling to those memories all these years? You sought the wielder of very blade that destroyed our family."
"You are my brother. We are all that remains of our family… Nothing can change that. I hold no ill will against you for something that occurred so long ago." Karla's smile was faintly evident in her voice.
Fir strained her ears as the adults began to speak more softly. She furrowed her brow in concentration.
"To give your forgiveness… Is this the reason you had your husband search me out?" Karel's voice sounded odd. It was the first time Fir had heard her uncle speak with sympathy colouring his words.
"There is… one more reason." Karla was growing steadily weaker. Bartre shifted his feet loudly and Fir knew that there wasn't much time before her uncle would be shooed out to let her mother rest.
"You will grant this request, Sword Demon," Bartre said, "that blasted sword is yours for good now, no competition, so you will grant this request without complaint."
"Brother, one day you will teach my beloved daughter the way of the blade. She… Fir has much talent. She practises so rigorously. We have paid more attention to refining our own skills than we have our daughter and still she wishes to follow in my footsteps. Dear Brother… And dear Bartre too… Promise that you will help her to realize her dream?"
"Karla… You know I do not take students. They become strong and then…" Karel's voice trailed off but Karla was determined.
"I believe that you being here… Returning to the sister you left so many years ago… Who you left behind twice in your lifetime… I believe that your travels are slowly changing you. You are beginning to remember how we once were. Maybe… maybe you will find a new way of thinking, one that does not feed the blade's appetite." Karla's breathing was beginning to become laboured.
"Karla… I…"
"No. You will not argue." Bartre sighed. "I may not agree with it, but it's my wife's final wish and I will make sure that it's fulfilled. It will be years before my daughter will seek your guidance. Think on it. You will know when the time is right."
Karel must have made some sign of agreement because the next moment Fir was being called. She waited a few moments before rising and walking slowly inside.
"Is mother feeling any better?" Her usual question. It was avoided in the usual fashion; the adults glanced at each other, wanting one to speak of a different subject.
"Fir, my dear… You wish to pursue the way of the blade?" Karla provided the distraction.
"Yes, mother. I want to be as strong as you one day." Fir looked down at her feet.
Karla motioned to Bartre and he lifted a sheathed sword onto the bed Karla lay in. She pulled the sword out and showed the shining steel to her daughter. "You know this sword… Correct? This is my sword. It has… served me well. Fir… I hope it will protect you just as well. Perhaps one day you… will inherit the title of 'Princess of Swords'. That would make me very happy."
"Mother..." Fir took the sword and examined it before setting it aside. It shone brightly even in the dull light, showing her a blurred reflection of herself. She blinked back the tears forming in her eyes. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better, mother?"
Karla's hair hung limply around her face and her skin was deathly pale but the small smile she gave to her daughter still retained traces of the beauty she had held in her prime.
"I only want you to be near… To hold my hand."
