She lay in pieces, nothing but bits of metal and Dust scattered across the floor.
But is she safe?
A ringing blow had been her end, though it had been long in coming. Hit after hit had weakened her structure, and in the end the stress was too much for her delicate workings.
But is she hurt?
Her Mistress had been perfect of course, dancing her way through battle with utmost precision. She was beautiful, the moonlight entwining with her pale hair and leaving her in an eerie luminescence as she threw fire and power and grace, rendering any that dared to attack her home naught but ash and corpses in her wake.
A terrifying, entrancing slip of a girl, stained by dirt and blood and all the more beautiful for it.
But did she escape?
The fault could not be with her wielder. Of course not. When had she been anything but perfection? Even if others could not see it, said she was 'spoiled' and 'uptight' and 'abrasive', a blade knows.
Better than anyone, better than mother or father or sibling or friend. A blade always knows.
But was she victorious?
Her Mistress had trusted her, let her guide her hand time and again. Had trusted the words of love and loyalty she her blade had written across her palms time and again.
And how had she repaid that trust?
She shattered. In her Mistress' moment of need she had felt herself break, steel shearing with a shriek that couldn't have been pain. Could only be the sound of a lie brought to stark reality.
For all her worth. For all her studying. All that she was, all that she had hoped to someday be.
All brittle as her promises.
Just metal, in the end. Nothing more.
But does she blame me?
What's this? A hand… Someone had picked up the burnt and twisted remains of her hilt.
And… a heartbeat. A familiar one, at that.
Ah.
It's her
So she made it after all. Even without her blade she had succeeded.
She's alright
Of course she had. She was Weiss Schnee. Things like 'defeat' did not apply to her, not when she was putting her mind to the task.
She was inexorable as a glacier, yet another thing to love about her.
A warmth spread through her, it's very presence inexplicable considering she was little more than a bit of metal and a few twisted mechanisms at this point. With that warmth came a slowly encroaching darkness, drifting at the edge of her consciousness.
I'm
Something wet dripped against her, water? Was it raining? But the skies had been so clear… She would have to warn her Mistress not to let her rust. Maybe… once she'd rested a bit. Just for a little while.
so
Bit by bit the darkness overtook her. She closed eyes-that-were-not-eyes, and were it possible for a sword to smile, she would have.
At least she'd been able to keep one of her promises.
happy