The Sword

She was feeling all alone…

Like an empty sea shell.

Away from her home, her friends…

Away from Teremonth…

Although under the cover of the night she couldn’t really tell the difference of the view outside the window, she still was feeling it deep in her heart.

“I disappointed him…”

“And did he not disappoint you?”

“I was right to send Daegond to find Turuviel and the sword. And I knew it is getting closer even before they ride into the valley” Reiven sighed softly “I should stay away from it and let them find a solution…” continued muttering to herself as walking in the halls blindly before her appearance caught by the others. She was too late to shift away…

Flames are dancing around the branches with a soft, sweet whispering as my thoughts wandering in the well of words…

Soft breeze is sweeping over the long green grasses, shaking the leaves of old oaks which surround us…

And I am listening…

I am watching…

I am hearing the gentle steps of Lady Rainiths’ bare feet, so soft… even timid  

Reiven looked at her own reflection on the mirror. No scars, no age lines, nothing from the past years…  “Nothing”  she thought and her looks fell down to her palm where she can still see the thin line of the cut. It was healing fast and she knew it will disappear soon enough.