she cannot tear her eyes away from the stroking of the blade , something mesmerising in the twisted way a mere sharp edge of a cut of steel can be capable for copious loss of life . she can hear the smirk in his voice , though , even without looking .
+
“ would you have me keep a dull blade ? ” he ran a cloth over the metal , a swift swipe of his hand .
then quieter , the pale line of his mouth curving upwards : “ through vigilance , we honour the warrior , mother . ”
curious eyes cast a sideways glance at the movements occurring in the peripheral of her vision . juice like dark tears curling the weapon , the sour of it all makes her swallow heavily .
“ i see that has been sharpened recently . is battle in your plans .ᐣ ”
before him , the sword lay at rest . its steel so dark , like ripples of black water .
he dragged a slice of lemon over the blade . upwards , downwards —— a slow , meticulous motion of his hand .
the suddenness of the question takes her aback , gazing upon her daughter with a slight downturn of her mouth . “ they have a harder time seeing the joy in the littler things , i believe . ”