View source for The Story of Three Moons, Sword of Lucaine Pyramides

[[Category:Bardic Runners Up]][[Category:2007 Bardics]]
By: Madelyne
Posted on: April 26, 2007


He laid me aside for but a moment.


I was his first love. He called me Three Moons, and with me he perfected the
fighting style called Two Arts on the island of Kashar. When he drew me from my
sheath, it was as if we became one. I felt his every emotion - anger,
desperation, rage ... even his fear. I felt his emotions and I embraced them as
if they were my own. In one desperate moment I became an angel of mercy to his
victims, sending them each with a single stroke to the bowels of the
Underworld.

Do you doubt a blade can feel? Perhaps you should ask Lucius Errikale. His fang
was no help at King's Tomb, when he tried to compromise our beloved Catarin. I
say ours. Perhaps because the love Lucaine felt for her only intensified his
desperation and fear as he drew me that day. As my razor-sharp edge cut through
Lucius' skin and his blood dripped warm and sticky against me, I felt only smug
satisfaction.


He laid me aside for but a moment.


His second most powerful tool his quill, he laid me aside to write his last
missive to her. I implored him to write faster from my place in the grass as he
scratched words upon the parchment addressed to Catarin. Even without his touch,
I felt the urgency of the energy that flowed through him as he wrote. The
euphoria he felt that day was strong enough to levitate the heaviest mammoth,
and I felt every rapid heartbeat in his chest as our bond was mightier than the
bars of any cell. His body grew numb with raw emotion for this mortal woman as
he poured his soul to her.

Meanwhile, I grew numb as the gloved hand of Trenton Deis gripped my hilt. Even
at that short distance while Trenton confronted him, I felt Lucaine's
confidence. I felt my master's brash fearlessness even as Trenton sank me two
feet deep into a mighty oak. I hummed with tension, calling out as our foe
pushed against me. It mattered not how many lives I ended, nor the powerful
union between myself and the one who called me Three Moons. I was snapped in
two as a twig snaps under the foot of a man walking through the forest.


He laid me aside for but a moment.


I was his first love, set aside for but a moment due to a distraction by the
woman who unwillingly brought about our demise. Without my master, I was never
again the same. Catarin recovered me and held me as a sceptre during her
campaign to reclaim Seleucar from Castomira and in their final battle I slashed
through Castomira's neck, separating her head from her body in a single arc.

Today, I lie hidden. Without a master to wield me, I feel nothing. Even if one
were to find me and grip my hilt it would not be the same as being wielded by
the warrior poet who rose from a life of slavery on a distant isle to
single-handedly kill over three hundred soldiers at the battle of King's Tomb.
As I wait to be rediscovered I often wonder how different life would be had I
not left his sheath that day.


He laid me aside for but a moment.