My Perspective | Teen Ink

My Perspective

May 7, 2019
By Anonymous

Stab, cleave, skewer, and divide that is all I have known and done in my long life. Ever since I was forged in the great Prague smithy I have wrought nothing but sadness and grief to others. When those happy faces turn into a frown of dread I am the last those faces see. From my sleek blade of tainted steel to my leather wrapped handle, I am deadly. My current master and caretaker has owned me the longest compared to the others. I have been in the hands of many people, some on the verge of greatness while others far from it. Sir Delvig of Pribslavitz has treated me with great care over the past few years, and has even made some modifications to my hilt to make me more appealing to those who are scared of me. Sir Delvig is a man of great posture and holds himself very highly. I like my new master more than the others, mainly because he tries not to use me just for erasing souls, but also to have an image shown to others when he walks past them in the streets and they stop in their tracks to admire us in awe.

Currently I am on the way towards a bandit camp set in the great Rattay forest. 7 bandits, each worthy of my stain, are settled there, but only me and my master will leave. This trip has taken us the majority of the day, but it will not be long until the deed is wrought and we can return home. Just a little longer and we will arrive to the camp, my master starts to sharpen and oil my blade while his steed carries us onward. After he is done with me I am sheathed, I hear him unfasten his bow from the saddle and proceed to string it as he always does before a conflict starts. I start to hear voices in the distance, but I can’t see anything due to me being shrouded in the darkness of the sheath. The hoarse voices of several drunken men become clear, they must be celebrating the recent stolen cargo from the merchant’s wagon in which hired my master and me his blade.

We are suddenly halted by my master as he settles, then dismounts from the horse and grabs me, as he is in the movement, he fastens me around his waist. Next he grabs his bow and quiver full of recently fetched goose feathers. He slowly makes his way towards the camp, the voices are more prominent now. He stops once again and prepares for his first shot. One breath in, as it is exhaled the first dart of battle fly’s, the sound of the arrow buzzing through the air and stopping as it eases is to a squishy thud is all that can be heard, 6 left. I can hear my master notch another arrow and lets it go within seconds of the first, 5 left. I can hear the men crashing about, like the big oafs they are, hurting each other in the confusion.

After another arrow is let off and the sound of it disappearing into the woods is heard my master drops his bow and draws me. As I’m the motion of being drawn, I am swung with the might worthy of foretold gods and the wrenching of bone being splintered underneath me is heard, 4 left. Just as I’m pulled from the collar of the previous man, the point of me is shoved roughly into the sternum of another, 3 left. I’m quickly swiveled around to block an oncoming attack from one of the men. The clamor of me and the rival blade rings throughout the nightly air. Just as quickly as the others, after a fast and precise flurry of blows from my master, 2 left.

The last two men are smarter, they attack together, but they are still no match for my master and me. The first of them charges in with his shield raised high as the other shuffles around to try and catch us off guard, but to no avail they failed. My master quickly kicked dust into the oncoming brutes’ eyes and darts behind his guard and to slay him before he could see again, 1 left. On the backswing of the last blow master used the momentum to turn around and catch the bandit right between the hip and bottom ribs. The man crumpled without a sound, 0 left.

After my masters’ breath is caught, he wipes me off on the jerkin of one of the fallen men, I feel the build up of filth as I’m rubbed against the fabric. We waltz over to a chest centered in the middle of the camp that matches the merchant’s description and break it open. Inside I dozens of exquisite wines which sparkle with the nectar of Christ, besides two open spots which is probably due to the bandit’s drunken feast all wines are accounted for. After 10 minutes of collecting items of interest from around the camp master returns to the horse with me, his bow, the wine, and the new items. He tightly fastens the chest to the side of the saddle and me to the other side with the bow. Once a few more things were finished being packed he returned to the saddle and begins to trot away, our work here is done.



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