2022-04-24 14:49:08 +05:30

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A small flower-shaped insignia. There seems to be music coming from it.
Among the members of the troupe was a charismatic swordswoman.
Beautiful as the light on water, elegant as the chirping lark.
Her every slash hummed a tune of the wind.
The end of each song and dance was like the sun after the rain.
Dust has since settled, and both the stage and life itself feel emptier for the absence of her music.
Both her music and her sword were as lethal as they were beautiful.
This was in keeping with the troupe's performances, which were intended for two very different audiences.
For the audience of foes, the music drifted far beyond the stage.