I like walking. This is a good thing; I am doing a lot of it.

Step, step, ... one step after another, each one seemingly identical to the next, but for the fact that each step takes me closer to my goal. How do you know that, you ask? Good question. You cannot just take any odd step. You have to be mindful. You need to make each step perfect. Once they are perfect, you make them effortless. It is surprisingly hard to find the easiest way to do something. Even something as simple as walking. Few people do. They pay no attention. I can tell. I can see the confusion of their minds by watching them take a single step.

It is not easy. I had to learn, too. Start with the first step. If you do not make that first step, you will forever remain in the desert, and perish. And I faltered a lot. I can no longer count how many knives have drank my blood, until they had enough of it and became part of me. Or perhaps it is me who finally had enough knife in my blood to become part of them. But I kept going, one step at a time, and now the knives move by themselves. Effortless.

To know where you are going, you must first pay attention to where you are. Reach out with your senses, become completely aware of the world around you. Make this awareness habitual. Then make it effortless. It is, for me. Now I take pleasure in walking and being one with my surroundings. The firm soil beneath my feet. The clatter of water. The delicate pink of the flowers. The sharp cold of dawn. Perfect.

I am working on my next step now. Another step towards my fate, the ancient fate of the name I inherited. I have to lead the lost ones to the abyss. That is my destiny. But for that, I must learn to judge who is lost. This is not yet effortless. It is not even perfect; I still falter.

But, "the journey of a thousand li starts with the first step." That is a line from one of my Chinese study books. "Laozi"- I whisper the name, perfectly, without effort. It is a very old book. Old books are like old wine; sometimes hidden depths, sometimes headaches. Sometimes both... Laozi - "old master" - funny thing, the hanzi for "master" is a pictogram of a swaddled child. Would that mean the Black Hands should protect him? I must learn to judge such things perfectly. I still have a long way to go, many steps to take.

One day, Noir will be perfect. And effortless. And then, no more children will ever get lost again.

I am reminded of another saying; "the journey leads back home, but only after the journey do you truly know where home lies." I know where my journey started. It was in Corsica. With her. Our paths will meet again. And together, we will fulfil the promise that was made. Step by step.

We will protect the third.

Perfectly.