The mirror was a cruel judge and the eyes that looked back no longer seemed her own. The sad longing behind them had been exposed to her fellow knights and the pain of her past flaunted for all like a battle flag. Nothing in the mirror looked quite right, she stood naked before it for hours wondering if she had changed or if it was all in her mind. Everything seemed wrong, her own face a blur of unrecognition. The only element of herself that she could stand to look at was her hair, the beautiful mane of deep flowing red hair that had been the cause of so much teasing when she was a child; it was one of the only things that Danica had ever had in common with her sister.
When the tailor finally knocked on her door the man was taken aback and nearly ran away when greeted by Danica’s nude figure. The man was known across the lands for his penchant for rare dyes and hues of singular depth. He acted as if he had never seen a nude woman before, by the look of him… maybe he hadn’t.
“Where are my manners? Do come in.” Danica looked down upon the short pungent man as if he were a toad.
He entered and attempted to avert his eyes from her as much as possible.
“Were you able to match the color scrap I sent you?”
“Yes Lady Danica, but it will not be cheap, the color is… not easily procured.” The tailor bumbled and sputtered in a way that lacked any sort of confidence and self worth. How do you attempt to bargain with a naked woman?
“It does not matter, take the measurements you need. Give enough room so that it may be worn with armor. Plate.” She looked away as he got close with his measuring tape, his smell was simply profane.
“I have what I need, shall I do the sewing here? It would be faster, much.”
“Absolutely, I have two other appointments. Do not steal anything or Ill have your hands.”
She did not wait for a response, a scrap of the dress that had been recovered from the corpse of her sister went over her head and out the door she walked.
The streets of Jhelom were quiet for once. Many guests had come to inquire as to her health. Friends some, allies and acquaintances mostly. What she really wanted, and needed, was time, time alone in the dark to wrestle with the shared load within her mind. Two sisters in a subconscious battle with one another a constant, restless war between two minds fighting to survive. Adamu had said that eventually the two would come to peace, and the two of them would become one.
Danica could feel it, things she had never questioned, now demanded questioning. The Order driven personality that had once been so unfaltering now found itself wrapped in a Chaos that was both terrifying and comforting. A paradox of endless depth. Over the preceding weeks her clothes began to disgust her, the bright blues and polished metal, sisters always fought over clothes. Her own opinions began to swerve in directions that before would have never occurred as possibilities.
Her next stop was the Farris, who better to craft the finest armor for her than a female blacksmith? Her order had been a strange one, the Farris would normally have turned it down. But this was a dangerous time, no one said no to Danica, not anymore. Her Knights of the Crux Ansata were all that was keeping the kingdom together. One does not say “No” to a military commander in a time of Martial Law.
When Danica heard the name of the farris an uneasy laughter had overcome her, it was as if someone had taken a whole box of giggles, shook it up and tossed it down a staircase. The farris, Charlotte, thought that Danica was insane.
“Your order is ready Lady Amandine. I used the coal in the mixture, as you said. You were wanting a sort of darkened damascus look to the metal, yes?”
“This will do fine, send me the bill.”
Danica dressed herself in the armor with the help of its maker, beautiful armor that Danica wore indifferently. It was a set of plate that was the masterpiece of the young farris’ life, worn now by someone who could hardly appreciate its beauty. Maybe one day.
Upon her return home she found the tailor had already departed, in the chair she had left him sitting were clothes the two voices in her head could agree on, a beautiful shade of green. And as instructed a sash of blood red, in honor of her parents. Black in mourning for her sister and so many others, red for the blood that had been spilled, and green… because it was pretty.
Her appointment with Adamu would be soon, he had told her midday. Vague as always, who would question him if he was late? Honestly? Danica found the irony of Addie being late hysterical, and found herself laughing loudly when he knocked on the door.
“How are you feeling today Danica?” Adamu Edom said as he entered without invitation with a large parcel under his arm.
“Is that it? Did you find out anything?” Danica found herself excited for the first time in a long while.
“You understand that this is a strange and powerful thing, a man poured his whole life into making it, that mans son spent his whole life enchanting it. And many other men have spent their lives trying to understand it. Even I, do not fully understand all of its, nuances.” Addie looked down his nose at her, as if he was sizing her up.
“I am not a man.” Danica spoke coldly and seemed to take offense. She hated being looked at as a creature, she was no longer herself and didn’t feel right in her own skin. She hated being looked at, even by a dear friend.
“I took the liberty of cleaning it up for you, buffed out the fouling and I think it came out rather nicely.” Adamu removed the sack cloth to reveal the Shield that she had recovered from Shame with her Knights supporting her. The shield was hardly recognizable. It looked like a mirror, round and wide. Rubies had been set into the surface in a symbol Danica had only recently found acceptable to look at. The entire surface of the shield, front back and edge held runic writing in a form wholly unfamiliar to both Danica and even Adamu himself. He had lost much of his knowledge from his lifetime in the infinite, every day he seemed to lose more and more, however his intuition remained solid. He had told her that she would find a sign, something her mind could fixate on and something that would help her in the days and years to come. The shield was beautiful.
Danica stood and put the shield on her arm, gripped it and held it close to her. The straps were tight, but well oiled, they would stretch and form to her usage. Perfect. She knelt her head and kissed the shield gently with her eyes closed.
A noise filled the room, a terrible screeching and tearing. The sound was all around, loud and deafening. The sort of grating sound that comes from metal upon metal with much force behind both. It was the sound Danica heard in her own mind every night when she closed her eyes. This sound was real and even Adamu seemed unnerved. The sound slowed and Danica looked down upon herself, the lettering from the shield had spread onto every surface of her armor. The words of power wrapped around her, penetrating into the metal creating its own aegis upon the damascus metal.
“Strange, it seems to like you.” Adamu stood and made his way to the door. “What will you do with this one?” He motioned to one of the Artifacts of Virtue, The Shield of Valor. Priceless, it had never really belonged to her. It was the property of Britannia, an artifact that was always bigger than her, worn by generations of knights before her.
“Take it, and put it with its Sister in Skara Brae where it belongs.” She replied and he picked it up, wrapping it in the sackcloth bag that he had come with.
“And that?” Adamu then motioned to the Sword Caliburn.
“That, that I will never part from. It is as much a piece of me as my own sister.” Danica reached down and put the sword at her hip in its place.
“I’ll leave you to yourself then Danica.”
“Addie, please don’t call me Danica. Lady Amandine would be more appropriate, my own name hurts my ears.”
“Very well. This time of turbulence will pass, you will find peace. Give it time. I… I am sorry there was not another way.”
“It was my choice old friend, it was my choice and is my burden to carry.”
The door shut and she was alone, again standing in front of the mirror. The image she saw was not herself, and she liked that. In front of her was a stranger, but someone she felt comfortable with. In front of her was a piece of her, and a piece of her sister. In the mirror was the visage of a new Lady Amandine, two cleaved into one. Her red mane wrapped around her face and a smile crossed her lips.
“Pleased to meet you Lady Amandine, we have work to do. Britannia needs us.” She said to herself.
“I agree Lady Amandine.” She said in reply. “Let’s get to work.”
When the tailor finally knocked on her door the man was taken aback and nearly ran away when greeted by Danica’s nude figure. The man was known across the lands for his penchant for rare dyes and hues of singular depth. He acted as if he had never seen a nude woman before, by the look of him… maybe he hadn’t.
“Where are my manners? Do come in.” Danica looked down upon the short pungent man as if he were a toad.
He entered and attempted to avert his eyes from her as much as possible.
“Were you able to match the color scrap I sent you?”
“Yes Lady Danica, but it will not be cheap, the color is… not easily procured.” The tailor bumbled and sputtered in a way that lacked any sort of confidence and self worth. How do you attempt to bargain with a naked woman?
“It does not matter, take the measurements you need. Give enough room so that it may be worn with armor. Plate.” She looked away as he got close with his measuring tape, his smell was simply profane.
“I have what I need, shall I do the sewing here? It would be faster, much.”
“Absolutely, I have two other appointments. Do not steal anything or Ill have your hands.”
She did not wait for a response, a scrap of the dress that had been recovered from the corpse of her sister went over her head and out the door she walked.
The streets of Jhelom were quiet for once. Many guests had come to inquire as to her health. Friends some, allies and acquaintances mostly. What she really wanted, and needed, was time, time alone in the dark to wrestle with the shared load within her mind. Two sisters in a subconscious battle with one another a constant, restless war between two minds fighting to survive. Adamu had said that eventually the two would come to peace, and the two of them would become one.
Danica could feel it, things she had never questioned, now demanded questioning. The Order driven personality that had once been so unfaltering now found itself wrapped in a Chaos that was both terrifying and comforting. A paradox of endless depth. Over the preceding weeks her clothes began to disgust her, the bright blues and polished metal, sisters always fought over clothes. Her own opinions began to swerve in directions that before would have never occurred as possibilities.
Her next stop was the Farris, who better to craft the finest armor for her than a female blacksmith? Her order had been a strange one, the Farris would normally have turned it down. But this was a dangerous time, no one said no to Danica, not anymore. Her Knights of the Crux Ansata were all that was keeping the kingdom together. One does not say “No” to a military commander in a time of Martial Law.
When Danica heard the name of the farris an uneasy laughter had overcome her, it was as if someone had taken a whole box of giggles, shook it up and tossed it down a staircase. The farris, Charlotte, thought that Danica was insane.
“Your order is ready Lady Amandine. I used the coal in the mixture, as you said. You were wanting a sort of darkened damascus look to the metal, yes?”
“This will do fine, send me the bill.”
Danica dressed herself in the armor with the help of its maker, beautiful armor that Danica wore indifferently. It was a set of plate that was the masterpiece of the young farris’ life, worn now by someone who could hardly appreciate its beauty. Maybe one day.
Upon her return home she found the tailor had already departed, in the chair she had left him sitting were clothes the two voices in her head could agree on, a beautiful shade of green. And as instructed a sash of blood red, in honor of her parents. Black in mourning for her sister and so many others, red for the blood that had been spilled, and green… because it was pretty.
Her appointment with Adamu would be soon, he had told her midday. Vague as always, who would question him if he was late? Honestly? Danica found the irony of Addie being late hysterical, and found herself laughing loudly when he knocked on the door.
“How are you feeling today Danica?” Adamu Edom said as he entered without invitation with a large parcel under his arm.
“Is that it? Did you find out anything?” Danica found herself excited for the first time in a long while.
“You understand that this is a strange and powerful thing, a man poured his whole life into making it, that mans son spent his whole life enchanting it. And many other men have spent their lives trying to understand it. Even I, do not fully understand all of its, nuances.” Addie looked down his nose at her, as if he was sizing her up.
“I am not a man.” Danica spoke coldly and seemed to take offense. She hated being looked at as a creature, she was no longer herself and didn’t feel right in her own skin. She hated being looked at, even by a dear friend.
“I took the liberty of cleaning it up for you, buffed out the fouling and I think it came out rather nicely.” Adamu removed the sack cloth to reveal the Shield that she had recovered from Shame with her Knights supporting her. The shield was hardly recognizable. It looked like a mirror, round and wide. Rubies had been set into the surface in a symbol Danica had only recently found acceptable to look at. The entire surface of the shield, front back and edge held runic writing in a form wholly unfamiliar to both Danica and even Adamu himself. He had lost much of his knowledge from his lifetime in the infinite, every day he seemed to lose more and more, however his intuition remained solid. He had told her that she would find a sign, something her mind could fixate on and something that would help her in the days and years to come. The shield was beautiful.
Danica stood and put the shield on her arm, gripped it and held it close to her. The straps were tight, but well oiled, they would stretch and form to her usage. Perfect. She knelt her head and kissed the shield gently with her eyes closed.
A noise filled the room, a terrible screeching and tearing. The sound was all around, loud and deafening. The sort of grating sound that comes from metal upon metal with much force behind both. It was the sound Danica heard in her own mind every night when she closed her eyes. This sound was real and even Adamu seemed unnerved. The sound slowed and Danica looked down upon herself, the lettering from the shield had spread onto every surface of her armor. The words of power wrapped around her, penetrating into the metal creating its own aegis upon the damascus metal.
“Strange, it seems to like you.” Adamu stood and made his way to the door. “What will you do with this one?” He motioned to one of the Artifacts of Virtue, The Shield of Valor. Priceless, it had never really belonged to her. It was the property of Britannia, an artifact that was always bigger than her, worn by generations of knights before her.
“Take it, and put it with its Sister in Skara Brae where it belongs.” She replied and he picked it up, wrapping it in the sackcloth bag that he had come with.
“And that?” Adamu then motioned to the Sword Caliburn.
“That, that I will never part from. It is as much a piece of me as my own sister.” Danica reached down and put the sword at her hip in its place.
“I’ll leave you to yourself then Danica.”
“Addie, please don’t call me Danica. Lady Amandine would be more appropriate, my own name hurts my ears.”
“Very well. This time of turbulence will pass, you will find peace. Give it time. I… I am sorry there was not another way.”
“It was my choice old friend, it was my choice and is my burden to carry.”
The door shut and she was alone, again standing in front of the mirror. The image she saw was not herself, and she liked that. In front of her was a stranger, but someone she felt comfortable with. In front of her was a piece of her, and a piece of her sister. In the mirror was the visage of a new Lady Amandine, two cleaved into one. Her red mane wrapped around her face and a smile crossed her lips.
“Pleased to meet you Lady Amandine, we have work to do. Britannia needs us.” She said to herself.
“I agree Lady Amandine.” She said in reply. “Let’s get to work.”
