Fortune

Imagine if you will, a castle, atop a cliff surrounded by the black sea of night. The only light comes from a half-moon peering through translucent clouds as though searching for a hero in the darkness. The air is heavy with a coming rain and its' scent carries a certain measure of peace, untouched and untainted. A lone seagull cries out in the distance and receiving no answer falls silent.

Slowly a gentle breeze picks up and moves softly across the sea, bringing a cool prickly sensation to your skin. As though roused by the breeze music begins, and grows, it fills out like a flower springing from its bud at the first kiss of sunlight. It gains in strength becoming a palpable force stirring something inside you.

Then from the shadows, appearing as though created of them, a figure steps forth cloaked all in black. Were it not for the movement you would perhaps still consider it to be one. Then a glitter appears, just a hint of reflected moonlight initially but quickly growing till it comprises a blade the length of your forearm.

The distance between you and the shadow seems to lessen of its own accord as you seek each others measure. The voices of a choir rise around you, their raw emotion making it seem like the thousands of people who began their final journey here have joined as witnesses to this meeting. A reminder that some things are, perhaps, inevitable. The voices change and battle is joined. Truly it seems more like a dance as the two of you move together with grace as sensuous as it is dangerous. The slight sounds of exertion and ringing of crossed blades are drowned out by the timpani and pulsating noise that can now only barely be identified as voices.

And then it is done, how simply does the student surpass the teacher. Your knowledge of the art perfected through many years. There lacked neither skill nor speed, an unknown card was played and a blade enters your chest. The voices ring out their final chord and start slowly dwindling as you are gently lowered to the ground. The hood is gone and her pale white skin glows softly in the moonlight. Her hair pools down around you like a soft whispering curtain the colour of fresh blood. A single glistening tear forms and slides down her face. You smile gently and draw breath to console her as the tear falls towards you.

It never lands.