Silver
The fire is bright tonight. Blair leans forward, polishing her dagger. A lock of hair escapes her hood, streaked with silver like gleaming metal. For a moment she can’t breathe. Is that the color of my hair? But I am young. Maybe not so young anymore. She pictures the elder clerics who trained her - powerful priests and crones with their glory behind them. Dedicated to Gwydion, no real families.

Her future suddenly spreads out before her, a bleak landscape. She thinks of the lives of other women she has met over the years: peasants, barkeeps, queens. Soft hair and skin, a man by their side and children at their feet. Blair can’t recall if she deliberately chose the solitary warrior life, punctuated occasionally with a brief tumble with a handsome man, or if the days just ticked by unnoticed, leading to this moment with strands of gray in her hair.

The fire is warm and she stretches out a hand. The unforgiving light casts shadows on the sinews and scars of her long thin arms. She is proud of these strong hands, which can wield a sword or conjure protection for her companions. But never has someone reached out in the night to grasp one, checking to make sure she is still there. If she died in battle tomorrow, Winter’s Bane would be less protected, but they would move on after a very brief period of mourning.

They say everyone dies twice, once when they take their last breath and again the last time someone speaks their name. How long before the name Blair Weala is lost to all memory?

Earlier today she noticed a tender glance pass between Solera and Valindra. She suddenly wants to cry out: Cling to each other!

Shouldn’t a deeper connection exist for everyone? Blair tips her head back so a tear will not fall onto her dagger, and pulls herself back a bit from the fire, returning the silver of her hair to the cold shadows.
Viewable by: Public
4 comments

4 Comments

This is really poignant. I like it a lot! I especially like the bit about dying twice. So very true, and sad...
Yes very poignant. A moment of existential crisis by the fire. Great post.
Really good post!
Solera would mourn Blair for more than a brief period of time and always remember her.