Drabble a Day

by Simone Robinson

Inspired by others who have undertaken this challenge, to write a drabble a day, I've decided to try. I'm not sure if I can do it, but I'm going to try. To improve writing skills, to gain insight, to explore the written word, the written worlds and those who live in them. Humour, angst, romance, a meeting of genres to create a collection of drabbles updated as often as possible.

11. Reflection

Reflection

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There were very few things which could stop Leonardo in his tracks. Very few things which could freeze his blood and leave him cold and rooted to the spot, unable to take another step. In battle, it was nearly impossible to break his focus, to cause his mind to waver or his steps to falter. It was how he had been trained, how he had been raised. It was how he had taught himself to be through hours of dedication.

A leader could not waver.

But sometimes, his blades reflected the light. It happened in the dojo, when he stood drenched from hours of work. It happened as he made to sheath his freshly-sharpened katanas. It happened in battle, before his blades had grown bloody and dark, and they still shone with a cold glint.

Leonardo would raise his eyes, and for a second, just a second, he'd catch sight of his own reflection in the polished metal. He would see the cruelty in his eyes, the onyx icy and hardened to flint. He'd see the immovable ridge of his bandanna, and the hard-set line of his lips. Worst of all, he'd see the face wiped clean of emotion.

He'd see the face of a man who did not care how many foes he mowed down.

And he felt his body grow cold, the grip on his hilt tighten. And just for a second, just a second, he was unable to move.

There were very few things which could stop Leonardo in his tracks, but sometimes, his own reflection did.