The blade lay shattered, the silvered slivers shone in the clear, starlit night as if they could somehow imitate the glow of the stars above. All around it lay darkened husks of armor, lifeless corpses that reflected no light back to the heavens. The light of their lives was gone, their spirits passed on to whatever world they were destined to.
A silent form passed among the dead, her pale hair reflected the starlight just as the blades pieces did. She moved listlessly, her eyes searching desperately among the bodies that lay scattered among the patches of tall grass. She spotted the glowing points of the shattered blade and somehow put them together in her mind. With a quiet scream she rushed over the well trodden ground to the body nearest the blade’s shattered remains.
She knelt into the cold moisture that had settled on the grass of the field, the chill of the water nothing compared the frost that was settling over her heart. Her body bent to place her ear next to his mouth. A soft warmth broke the cold night. He was still breathing. “Justin. . .can you hear me, love?”
The man’s eyes opened, the jagged gash on his brow being accented as his face contorted in focus, “Sierra? Is that you Sierra?”
She reached out and stroked his cheek, “Yes, I’m here. I’m here.” she repeated the phrase with each stroke.
“I can see you…” he coughed, a spray of blood stained the pristine white of her dress, “the stars are in your eyes, my love, just as when we first met.” the gash became a hidious contrast to his soft smile.
Sierra looked up and saw that the stars were indeed shining behind her, but how they could be reflected she did not know, “I’m going to take you home, love. . .”
“I’m not going home.” Justin replied, “The battle is not yet won and Death comes for me. Already only you and the starlight remain.”
A tear fell from her cheek as she knelt over the spent form. It rested on his cheek, his eyes staring up at her, pulling the starlight to hold her features as the wash of death came to him. Sierra held his hand as the cold of the dew took the warmth from his empty husk.
The fragments of his sword glittered spitefully at her, as if celebrating his death in battle.
In a fury she snatched up several of the bits and clenched them in her fist. She felt the still sharp steel cut into the tender flesh as she threw them, pouring her hatred and her loss into the action. The glittering piece flashed through the air to land with a dead thump in a pile of rushes where still it reflected the light.
Sierra tore a piece from her sleeve and wrapped her hand to stop the bleeding. Her tears joined the remaining fragments on the ground in their starry reflection as she stood. A numbness was coming to her now chilled hand- the sword fragments had been wet. She did not care, she welcomed the cold. It was something to feel.
And as the starlight began to clear she could see across the field. Women were standing in the field dressed in many different colors, all with the same expression of loss and pain that she knew she too was wearing. It did not matter who’s side they had fallen for, they stood in mourning. The battle had both divided and united in its grief.
Silently Sierra made her way to the rushes and retrieved the red stained sword piece. As she held it, her tears washed away the blood allowing the dawning sun to blind her with its brilliance. She wrapped it carefully in the bandage she had created, the cool of the metal a strange comfort to the wound in her hand and in her heart.