The Blade She Chose
Shalema: “Repeat after me.”
A Lashunta woman of dark hair and wicked eye circles a small Lashunta child, likely no older than four or five, with yellow skin and azure hair. The child is seated in a high metal chair, although her hands are stretched out in front of her, resting on a set of handlebars, knuckles exposed.
Shalema: “Infiltrate.”
Tesin: “Infiltrate.”
Shalema: “Obfuscate.”
Tesin: “Obfus- Obf-”
The Lashunta woman raises a hand, revealing a thin wooden switch.
Tesin: “Obfuscate.”
The woman nods, and continues circling the child.
Shalema: “Destroy.”
Tesin: “Destroy.”
Shalema: “Very good, Tesin.”
The woman places her hand on Tesin’s head in approval, and the child flinches, as if she were expecting a blow. Her master smiles.
Shalema: “Again."
The camera pans as it fades, settling on another vision. Tesin is older now, perhaps eight or nine, her expression harder now - easily ten years ahead of a normal child her age. Her master stands behind her, gesturing into a room filled to the brim with guns, grenades, swords, axes - any mundane military weapon available to the Pact Worlds. Shalema: “Choose. You will get only one from us, the whole of your life. If it is broken, lost, or stolen, you will be defenseless until you gain another.” Tesin nods, and the camera pans close over her shoulder. She takes her time, considering the various weapons, eventually settling on the melee rack. Slowly, she selects a small dagger from the wall, and presents it to her master. The Lashunta’s eyes narrow, but not with displeasure. Shalema: “Why?” Tesin: “It’s light and small, like me, so I can swing it easy. And it’s easy to hide in my clothes.” Tesin slips the dagger into her sleeve with a practiced motion as if to demonstrate. Shalema: “Good, Tesin. Very good.” Tesin: “Thank you, Master Shalema.” The woman nods, and then whips a pistol from a holster at her side. She shoots Tesin in the kneecap, and with a swift motion, kicks the falling child in the face. Tesin screams, but then quickly silences herself, holding in the pain. Shalema nods again. Shalema: “Every weapon has a weakness, Tesin. Your’s is range.” Our view fades again, and the clock moves far, far forward. We see Tesin, barely younger than the woman you know, standing firm in white robes, across from a Kasathan man in intricate garb. Through the Haze, you recognize the infamous Nawa Jin, Grandmaster of the Solarions of Idari. He watches as a dark bead of light floats around Tesin, assessing its shape and form. Nawa: “What you are about to summon can be changed, as nature takes many forms. The supernova and the black hole are cosmic opposites, but also two halves to the same whole. But still, we are human, and thus creatures of ceremony. Your first manifestation has meaning, young Tesin. Choose wisely.” Tesin closes her eyes, brow furrowed in concentration, and the miniature light spins around to her hand. She pauses for a moment, and then opens her eyes. You see curiosity first, followed by wonder. But deep within, like the red ring around a black hole, you see hatred. Anger. Pain. Tesin closes her hand, and a sword as black as night forms in her fist. Nawa Jin observes it, and then shows only a small, rare smile. Nawa: “Why?” Tesin looks up to her master, the ambient glow of the blade highlighting the edges of her face. Tesin: “Range.” Nawa Jin raises an eyebrow, and- A scattering of static in the Haze. You see nothing but smoke and fire. Shalema: “Go deeper, Tesin - I know that you can!” Tesin: “I won’t be able to fix him!” Shalema: “Do it!” From the chaos, an ethereal woman in a gray shroud bursts forth, reaching directly for you. Shrouded Lady: “Gettttt outttt!”
The camera pans as it fades, settling on another vision. Tesin is older now, perhaps eight or nine, her expression harder now - easily ten years ahead of a normal child her age. Her master stands behind her, gesturing into a room filled to the brim with guns, grenades, swords, axes - any mundane military weapon available to the Pact Worlds. Shalema: “Choose. You will get only one from us, the whole of your life. If it is broken, lost, or stolen, you will be defenseless until you gain another.” Tesin nods, and the camera pans close over her shoulder. She takes her time, considering the various weapons, eventually settling on the melee rack. Slowly, she selects a small dagger from the wall, and presents it to her master. The Lashunta’s eyes narrow, but not with displeasure. Shalema: “Why?” Tesin: “It’s light and small, like me, so I can swing it easy. And it’s easy to hide in my clothes.” Tesin slips the dagger into her sleeve with a practiced motion as if to demonstrate. Shalema: “Good, Tesin. Very good.” Tesin: “Thank you, Master Shalema.” The woman nods, and then whips a pistol from a holster at her side. She shoots Tesin in the kneecap, and with a swift motion, kicks the falling child in the face. Tesin screams, but then quickly silences herself, holding in the pain. Shalema nods again. Shalema: “Every weapon has a weakness, Tesin. Your’s is range.” Our view fades again, and the clock moves far, far forward. We see Tesin, barely younger than the woman you know, standing firm in white robes, across from a Kasathan man in intricate garb. Through the Haze, you recognize the infamous Nawa Jin, Grandmaster of the Solarions of Idari. He watches as a dark bead of light floats around Tesin, assessing its shape and form. Nawa: “What you are about to summon can be changed, as nature takes many forms. The supernova and the black hole are cosmic opposites, but also two halves to the same whole. But still, we are human, and thus creatures of ceremony. Your first manifestation has meaning, young Tesin. Choose wisely.” Tesin closes her eyes, brow furrowed in concentration, and the miniature light spins around to her hand. She pauses for a moment, and then opens her eyes. You see curiosity first, followed by wonder. But deep within, like the red ring around a black hole, you see hatred. Anger. Pain. Tesin closes her hand, and a sword as black as night forms in her fist. Nawa Jin observes it, and then shows only a small, rare smile. Nawa: “Why?” Tesin looks up to her master, the ambient glow of the blade highlighting the edges of her face. Tesin: “Range.” Nawa Jin raises an eyebrow, and- A scattering of static in the Haze. You see nothing but smoke and fire. Shalema: “Go deeper, Tesin - I know that you can!” Tesin: “I won’t be able to fix him!” Shalema: “Do it!” From the chaos, an ethereal woman in a gray shroud bursts forth, reaching directly for you. Shrouded Lady: “Gettttt outttt!”
Comments