Twenty-Second Stroke – Gathered Lessons
Luny arrived on the third day after the battle had ended. Sylvia watched him approach as she sat lying on the grass in front of the two graves. One had a sword stuck through it as a memorial, the other did not.
Sylvia simply sat and waited as the man in black approached, walking swiftly but not hurrying, never hurrying, coming in his own good time, making when he got somewhere the time he needed to be there. Racquel did not sit idly, but paced around, her nervousness evident, and her eyes still raw.
The young Claymore wore her grief more openly than Sylvia, and with nothing to do here but mull over it, it had sunk into her face somewhat, but she was recovering. The memories were fading for her, Sylvia knew, while they would never fade in her own case.
No doubt it had helped Racquel to dig the graves, and to hunt down and kill the remaining yoma, and burn the bodies of the Black Wings, and such other tasks. Sylvia, her left arm only slowly regenerating from the terrible wound she had inflicted on it, had been hard pressed even to carry Jessica's body to here from the town, and had been unable to help otherwise. It was shameful, but one hand could hardly wield a shovel effectively.
When the man in black reached the small rise he simply stared in silence for a moment, saying nothing. Then he spoke, in the usual gravely voice, though it seemed oddly open, for it was still early in the day, and without shadows all things about him seemed somehow clearer. "The job is complete then?" his tone was perfunctory, but an answer was necessary.
"Yes," Raquel answered, as was proper, for she was now in command as number twenty-six, a number Sylvia suspected would be lessened before too long. "The awakened one, Katherine, is dead, the yoma killed or fled far, and the Black Wings dead or scattered."
"Good," Luny's tone was curt. "The other teams coming will sweep through here for yoma soon enough, and the surviving mercenaries should know to keep their mouths shut, and otherwise, can be bribed or silenced. So he job is successfully completed." He paused, and slowly looked over the graves. "Katherine was the awakened one you said? I recall that name, something useful to know. The losses are a pity, but they must be borne."
"I hardly believe it, you actually almost sound as if you care Luny," Sylvia surprised herself by speaking about it.
"Why shouldn't I care?" the man in black shot back, his voice carrying more emotion than it almost ever did. "This whole sordid affair was never something I liked. Single digits, especially sane ones, aren't easy to come by," he paused again, looking from Jessica's grave to Tyrin's, and then back to Sylvia. "Besides," he said slowly. "You warriors are bred for this, it's your purpose, if it claims you, well, that's what happens, death awaits you one way or another anyway, but this is different." He shook his cowled head. "I cannot know for certain, but this may be the very first time a human has died in battle fighting for the organization's goals. Even if her reasons were personal, it still counts, and I'd never expected to face something like this. It provides a new perspective that must be considered carefully. Still, a shame, this is what comes of a human stepping into the world of yoma. It is always destined to end badly, that is why you exist, after all."
"Good," Sylvia spoke sternly, her tone clearly surprising Racquel, who gave a small start. "See that you don't forget."
The man in black's gaze turned to Sylvia and to the sword and shield that lay beside her with her doffed armor. "She gave you those then?" he questioned, though he obvious could tell the answer.
"As she was dying from her wounds, yes," Sylvia managed.
"She taught you to use them, correct?"
"She did," Sylvia glared at him, no tears threatened, they had dried up with Katherine's death, if not before, and now she could wield the grief of her memories as a weapon. "Is there a problem?"
"No," Luny replied steadily, unmoved by the harsh expression on the warrior's face. "I will petition the organization for your right to use them in missions; it will surely be approved, considering you can use them. No doubt that has something to do with your survival of this whole affair. If a weapon is useful, use it, that's sufficient."
"What do we do next?" Racquel asked, sensing a break in the discussion.
"Since the task is done, you return to your own areas and your ordinary duties," Luny explained. "There is no need to hurry, considering the long walk back and any injuries you might have, you can take your time. You'll be given a new job once you've returned."
"Of course," Racquel nodded, as if she had almost expected something else, but finally realizing that for Claymores, it always goes on as it had before. "Is that all then?"
"Essentially," Luny muttered, and then stopped, raising his head. "One minor thing, since you recognized the awakened being, I'm assuming she appeared in the human form she once had. She didn't by chance still have her sword did she?" He made that odd three fingers forward poking gesture of his at the pair.
"Jessica shattered it," Racquel said.
"We threw the pieces into the river," Sylvia added, for they had, along with the pieces of Katherine's body, not wanting the crows to infest this place.
"She broke it?" Luny seemed slightly surprised. "Interesting, well that is acceptable."
"I suppose then," Racquel spoke slowly, somberly. "That we had best go. There is no reason to stay and bother the herders any further." She walked up to Sylvia and drew her sword.
Standing, the older warrior repeated the gesture, and they crossed blades together. "I am glad I met you, and everyone else," Racquel said quietly, neither sad nor smiling. "In time, I hope we meet again."
"I will look forward to that reunion," Sylvia said carefully. "It is my belief that you can become a great warrior Racquel, you will do well."
The young warrior almost blushed slightly as she sheathed her blade, and then turned and walked away slowly, angling slightly northward to the road that would take her home to her own yoma-hunting grounds.
"So it ends," Luny intoned, perhaps only half-serious. "One crisis for the organization averted. Not a bad achievement for the number thirty-eight, you should be proud."
"There is nothing to be proud of in this," Sylvia shook her head. "Our work is not something of pride, but I will not forget this, or those who died. Tyrin asked me, so I will remember it, it will remain. Do you understand that Luny?"
"Of course," the man in black answered, and slowly her raised his right hand to his cowl and tilted it back, carefully revealing his bald and wrinkled skull. "You should not underestimate me, Sylvia. I will not forget either."
Sylvia gasped at what she saw there, running along the temple to end just above the ear, was a long, white line: the scar Tyrin had inflicted when she struck him.
"You carry one reminder, I carry another," the man in black pulled his cowl back down. "We are neither of us yet beyond learning something new. You should remember that lesson from this as well."
As Luny turned and walked away Sylvia felt the deep resentment she had carried at the man in black for sending on this mission slowly begin to fade. Not that she liked Luny, or would ever trust him, but she thought she could see now that though he might be uncaring, he was not especially cruel or spiteful. Of course, she would not trust that intuition either.
Slowly Sylvia turned to the graves, recalling Jessica's stern and silent face, Lynne's energetic and snappy manner, and most of all Tyrin's steady companionship. "Warriors, and friends, we were," she said quietly in the open air. "I failed you, I let you be drawn into our world, and you died from it, but, but you said we were worthy of love, even if you couldn't give it yourself. Knowing that much, I will bear these memories. Forever."
Strapping on her armor slowly, carefully with only the one hand, Sylvia added two new steps for the first of many times to come. She buckled the sword-belt for that wide curving sword, and strapped the shield to her left arm. Thereafter she headed out, not looking back. One day, eventually, there would be time to return here, to see the woman with gray eyes who had given her a life twice over, but few now, the work of the silver-eyed witches was undone.
End.