After the battle.

This was spawned by a comment about feeling the story that your writing and I got the vision of a warrior freshly returned from a battle.

The cold metal calmed her racing mind as she ran her hand along the freshly cleaned and sharpened blade. Not one spot of blood stained the swords mirror like surface and not a single nick marred its smooth razor thin cutting edge. Running her bare hand along its surface again to check for any slight imperfections, she placed the long heavy antique sword down slowly and reverently onto the smooth blue silk cloth that had been draped over the cold marble plinth, knelt down on the cold stone floor of the family’s mausoleum and gave thanks to her father’s spirit for allowing her to take his place in the latest of the king’s battles. One her prayers and been offered to her fallen family and to her gods for helping to keep her alive, she stood up, opened her eyes and took in a deep breath of the chilled air and left for her chambers to remove the blood stained armour that she still wore.

The idea is that the Knight ( I chose a woman to do away with the stereo typical male model) had just come home from a fight beside her king haven taken the place of her father using an old family sword used but many generations. Duty and honour is more important to her then her own health and I wanted to show that the sword had priority over everything in her life.

Will that have a place in my books, maybe. If I can finish the first trilogy in my Steampunk/Victorian fantasy, I have a pure fantasy novel series I want to start on.

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