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The hunt was going just as she expected: Terribly. They had spent days traveling in circles, tiring out their poor horses and men for one singular person, all to no avail. Thankfully, her act of waking up before dawn and sightseeing through the forest proved incredibly successful, and Cassandra wasn’t dragged along on the hunt (although, not like she would have gone anyway, despite actually knowing tracking spells). She smirked, triumphantly humming while polishing one of her swords. Another beautiful day, it will not have to shed any blood.
The bonfire crackled calmly before her, casting long shadows across the dirt. In the citrus skies, the sun was nearly set, a short day making way for a long, cold night. The evergreens shivered in the breeze, wafting their scent through the air. Faintly, far off into the distance, the sound of the hunting party’s return could be heard. Perched on the log beside her was her loyalest companion, Nix(her albino crow), munching away on an assortment of only the finest berries and nuts available.
Behind them, Modeus, the newly minted birdhouse, scopes the area before standing behind Cassandra. It seems safe enough to talk, since no one is around.
Cass has always been a kind face to Modeus, even before he could speak. If he isn’t with Lucia, he enjoys it when Cassandra steals him away from the tower to “run errands”(really to show him different animals in the royal garden). Earlier on the trip, she climbed to the top of a tree in her nightgown just to catch a flying squirrel, then went into every fact she knew about it, all because he mistook it for a chipmunk. To him, Cassandra viewed him as a friend since the beginning, and it is something he cherishes in her. Excitedly, he approached Cassandra, ready for another long ramble.
“Boa tarde, Modeus! How’s that bird watching going?” she greeted with a grin.
“Good.” He opens his cupped gauntlets and reveals the sleeping bird, a small tuft of feathers in the palm of his huge hands. “Is it normal for them to sleep this much?”
“Not at all, but this little one needs all the rest they can get. The spell I cast takes a while to work, but they will be good as new by the morning,” she smiles, gently rubbing a tuft of feathers before closing back up his hands. “Come, sit next to me, I’ll warm up your hands a little bit.”
He sat down, notably scrunched to fit on such a tiny log. Cupping his huge hands in hers, she cast a small spell to make the inside of his hands toasty. Putting his hands down, she flicks her wrist and from her rings come 4 intricate swords. She sets three down and begins polishing them gently, getting in every groove. Normally, Modeus would have focused on the motions of how she polished each sword; the way in which she precisely cleaned each groove and buffed out any dirt. However, he noticed the swords glinted a purple hue in the light of the campfire. The color of her magic.
Unknowingly, Modeus hunched over closer to her, his face inches from her head. Cassandra giggled to herself. “How curious, for a person with no eyes, it is very apparent when and where you are staring.”
He doesn’t pick up what she’s implying. “Your sword…it is magical?”
“Enchanted? Yes. Just some simple collapsing enchantments- oh, and a few for their glimmer.” She twirled the sword in the air with her magic, threads of violet weaving around the hilt, and with a click, it collapsed into a ring snuggly put on her finger. With a flick of the wrist, it came off her finger and turned back into a sword again. “They allow me to do this, and some other cool tricks I can show you later!” She twirls the sword and puts it back on her finger, then grabs the next ring.
…
“I can tell you have more questions? Go on, I’m listening.”
He thought deeply about how to put it in the words he knew. “Why do you make them? You do not seem to enjoy sparring with Marulho.”
She stopped polishing, staring blankly at her reflection in the sword. Her mind raced with thoughts, words, and memories, trying to figure out how to piece them together to formulate an explanation. The fire crackled amidst their silence.
“I apologize.” Modeus finally says, turning his face to the fire. “If that question was-.”
The sword nearly slips through her fingers before she tightens her grip. “No, you are fine, Modeus,” she said, her breath hitching. She sighs heavily, turning to him. “It is… hard to explain in this language. I’m sure you’re familiar with that feeling in a sense.” He hums in agreement.
“These weapons and my magic…they are a reminder to me, Modeus,” she speaks softly, almost sadly. “A lifetime worth of memories, good and bad, forged into something I can see and feel.” She holds the sword up, close enough to Modeus so that he can observe the intricacies etched into the metal. “Look- this is a sword, yes, but look at what you find when you take a closer look.”
Etched onto the blade on one side is an inscription, and on the other a feathery design. In the rising moonlight and the light from the fire, each letter gleans with a purple hue, pulsating off the blade as though it were alive. The details are small but mesmerizing to stare at…which is all Modeus can do because…
“I…forgot you can’t read, can you…” Cassandra bursts into awkward laughter, collecting herself and running her finger along the designs.
“Beauty, Modeus. Outside,” she snaps the sword in half, and from its broken halves pour magic. The magic slips into the ground and sprouts flowers at their feet. “and inside.” Plucking one of the flowers, she sticks one in the fur of his cloak.
“But,” Modeus is mesmerized but confused. “You broke it. Why?”
“Not broke,” purple magic runs along the sword and puts all the fragmented pieces back together. It is as good as new, but there are cracks where it broke. “These swords I make and I alike are intricate creations capable of acts of love, passion, pain, and violence. However,” she runs her hands along the cracks of the sword, and her own scars faintly glow. “I get to choose what I do with them now. They remind me that I, too, am a weapon; but now I have the power to choose when to be.”
She flicks her wrist and puts on the ring, then places Nix on her lap, gently stroking her sleepy feathers. “After the war back home…that saying helped me keep going. It gave me purpose bigger than…what was intended of me at first.” She paused, looking up at Modeus now. “It…will be harder for you to reach a point where you can say this about yourself and act to it. But I have faith in you, Modeus.”
They sat in respectful silence together…until Cassandra got embarrassed by him not saying anything.
“Ah…forgive me! I’m afraid I got carried away.”
“You have no need to apologize. I enjoy hearing you speak. I learn many new things with every conversation.”
“Awwwwn!” she starts happily flapping her hands, but contains them somewhat because of Nix. “Well, if you are so eager, why don’t I tell you more about some of my birds back at home?”
“I would enjoy that.”