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35 lines
2.4 KiB
Plaintext
35 lines
2.4 KiB
Plaintext
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A beacon that guides a traveler home from afar. No matter where they are, the silver eagle always inclines toward a distant wind.
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The verdant feather swirled as she sang gently, guiding the homecoming one to the other side, where the gentle wind blew.
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"I don't care about where you came from, or what sins you might have committed. It's just..."
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The "young master" (though he was not and could never be acknowledged as such) said as he wiped away the blood from her face.
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"When the time comes for the winds of change to blow through this land, I want to have you by my side."
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"I killed the falcon. Keep that a secret between us..."
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Much as the kin-blood would in the future be spilled by a brutal lance and left to turn from red to black in the snow,
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Her heart too was pierced, as if by an invisible arrow, when she perceived the real "young master" in her mind's eye.
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From then on, she kept one eye on the things she had to do as a servant,
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And another upon the "missions" that had to be accomplished for the vision he had described.
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She dreamed of being by his side — no, even being in the crowd behind him would be alright,
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If she could bathe in the winds — which she did not even comprehend — together with him, her real "young master."
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For this purpose, there were a lot of nails and tenons that needed to be pulled out to cause the great edifice to topple...
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"Don't mourn, Priscilla. Everything in this world comes at a price."
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"Remember: If these matters are betrayed, light the beacon at Stormbearer Point."
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"When the winds of change blow through these lands, we shall be its wild, howling vanguard, you and I."
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"Yes, Master Eberhart."
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Yes — she would forget bloodline and duty, forsake separation and the sickly heart.
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Not many nails were left. The glories bygone would soon return.
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But...
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The family's falcons and hounds caught the plot's scent, and the silhouettes of sails were never sighted upon the cape.
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At the last, she chuckled. Once, she had railed against her fate and the fate of countless others.
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However, at this moment, when she looked up at the pale moonlight and the shadow of the swords that reflected it,
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And as she gazed upon the mocking gaggle of nobles, she felt neither distress nor resentment — though she knew not why.
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Not many nails are left. The glories bygone will soon return.
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Young master, you will be like this silver eagle. You shall guide the hurricane.
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Do not mourn for me. I shall soon be a wisp in a thousand winds... |